CHAPTER XV.
THE END OF IT.
And now I have very nearly come to the end of it all, and precious gladI shall be to find myself there; for I began this old memory with alight heart, thinking that it would give me some work for the longsummer evenings, but as I went on I wakened a thousand sleeping sorrowsand half-forgotten griefs, and now my soul is all as raw as the hide ofan ill-sheared sheep. If I come safely out of it I will swear never toset pen to paper again, for it is so easy at first, like walking into ashelving stream, and then before you can look round you are off yourfeet and down in a hole, and can struggle out as best you may.
We buried Jim and de Lissac with four hundred and thirty-one others ofthe French Guards and our own Light Infantry in a single trench. Ah! ifyou could sow a brave man as you sow a seed, there should be a fine cropof heroes coming up there some day! Then we left that bloodybattle-field behind us for ever, and with our brigade we marched on overthe French border on our way to Paris.
I had always been brought up during all these years to look upon theFrench as very evil folk, and as we only heard of them in connectionwith fightings and slaughterings, by land and by sea, it was naturalenough to think that they were vicious by nature and ill to meet with.But then, after all, they had only heard of us in the same fashion, andso, no doubt, they had just the same idea of us. But when we came to gothrough their country, and to see their bonny little steadings, and thedouce quiet folk at work in the fields, and the women knitting by theroadside, and the old granny with a big white mutch smacking the baby toteach it manners, it was all so home-like that I could not think why itwas that we had been hating and fearing these good people for so long.But I suppose that in truth it was really the man who was over them thatwe hated, and now that he was gone and his great shadow cleared from theland, all was brightness once more.
We jogged along happily enough through the loveliest country that ever Iset my eyes on, until we came to the great city, where we thought thatmaybe there would be a battle, for there are so many folk in it that ifonly one in twenty comes out it would make a fine army. But by thattime they had seen that it was a pity to spoil the whole country justfor the sake of one man, and so they had told him that he must shift forhimself in the future. The next we heard was that he had surrendered tothe British, and that the gates of Paris were opened to us, which wasvery good news to me, for I could get along very well just on the onebattle that I had had.
But there were plenty of folk in Paris now who loved Boney; and that wasnatural when you think of the glory that he had brought them, and how hehad never asked his army to go where he would not go himself. They hadstern enough faces for us, I can tell you, when we marched in, and we ofAdams' brigade were the very first who set foot in the city. We passedover a bridge which they call Neuilly, which is easier to write than tosay, and through a fine park--the Bois de Boulogne, and so into theChamps d'Elysees. There we bivouacked, and pretty soon the streets wereso full of Prussians and English that it became more like a camp than acity.
The very first time that I could get away I went with Rob Stewart, of mycompany--for we were only allowed to go about in couples--to the RueMiromesnil. Rob waited in the hall, and I was shown upstairs; and as Iput my foot over the mat, there was Cousin Edie, just the same as ever,staring at me with those wild eyes of hers. For a moment she did notrecognise me, but when she did she just took three steps forward andsprang at me, with her two arms round my neck.
"Oh, my dear old Jock," she cried, "how fine you look in a red coat!"
"Yes, I am a soldier now, Edie," said I, very stiffly; for as I lookedat her pretty face, I seemed to see behind it that other face which hadlooked up to the morning sky on the Belgium battle-field.
"Fancy that!" she cried. "What are you, then, Jock? A general?A captain?"
"No, I am a private."
"What! Not one of the common people who carry guns?"
"Yes, I carry a gun."
"Oh, that is not nearly so interesting," said she. And she went back tothe sofa from which she had risen. It was a wonderful room, all silkand velvet and shiny things, and I felt inclined to go back to give myboots another rub. As Edie sat down again, I saw that she was all inblack, and so I knew that she had heard of de Lissac's death.
"I am glad to see that you know all," said I, for I am a clumsy hand atbreaking things. "He said that you were to keep whatever was in theboxes, and that Antoine had the keys."
"Thank you, Jock, thank you," said she. "It was like your kindness tobring the message. I heard of it nearly a week ago. I was mad for thetime--quite mad. I shall wear mourning all my days, although you cansee what a fright it makes me look. Ah! I shall never get over it.I shall take the veil and die in a convent."
"If you please, madame," said a maid, looking in, "the Count de Betonwishes to see you."
"My dear Jock," said Edie, jumping up, "this is very important. I amsorry to cut our chat short, but I am sure that you will come to see meagain, will you not, when I am less desolate? And would you mind goingout by the side door instead of the main one? Thank you, you dear oldJock; you were always such a good boy, and did exactly what you weretold."
And that was the last that I was ever to see of Cousin Edie. She stoodin the sunlight with the old challenge in her eyes, and flash of herteeth; and so I shall always remember her, shining and unstable, like adrop of quicksilver. As I joined my comrade in the street below, I sawa grand carriage and pair at the door, and I knew that she had asked meto slip out so that her grand new friends might never know what commonpeople she had been associated with in her childhood. She had neverasked for Jim, nor for my father and mother who had been so kind to her.Well, it was just her way, and she could no more help it than a rabbitcan help wagging its scut, and yet it made me heavy-hearted to think ofit. Two months later I heard that she had married this same Count deBeton, and she died in child-bed a year or two later.
And as for us, our work was done, for the great shadow had been clearedaway from Europe, and should no longer be thrown across the breadth ofthe lands, over peaceful farms and little villages, darkening the liveswhich should have been so happy. I came back to Corriemuir after I hadbought my discharge, and there, when my father died, I took over thesheep-farm, and married Lucy Deane, of Berwick, and have brought upseven children, who are all taller than their father, and take mightygood care that he shall not forget it. But in the quiet, peaceful daysthat pass now, each as like the other as so many Scotch tups, I canhardly get the young folks to believe that even here we have had ourromance, when Jim and I went a-wooing, and the man with the cat'swhiskers came up from the sea.
The Great Shadow and Other Napoleonic Tales Page 14
