"Seems to me you are only the second unluckiest this time," said a young soldier with his mouth full; and, with a certain dry humor, he pointed vaguely over his shoulder with the fork towards the corpse.
The trenches laughed and assented.
This want of sympathy and justice irritated Dard."You cursed fools!" cried he."He is gone where we must all go--without any trouble.But look at me.I am always getting barked.Dogs of Prussians! they pick me out among a thousand.I shall have a headache all the afternoon, you see else."Some of our heads would never have ached again: but Dard had a good thick skull.
Dard pulled out his spilikin savagely.
"I'll wrap it up in paper for Jacintha," said he."Then that will learn her what a poor soldier has to go through."Even this consolation was denied Private Dard.
Corporal Coriolanus Gand, a bit of an infidel from Lyons, who sometimes amused himself with the Breton's superstition, told him with a grave face, that the splinter belonged not to him, but to the sutler, and, though so small, was doubtless a necessary part of his frame.
"If you keep that, it will be a bone of contention between you two,"said he; "especially at midnight.HE WILL BE ALWAYS COMING BACK TOYOU FOR IT."
"There, take it away!" said the Breton hastily, "and bury it with the poor fellow."Sergeant La Croix presented himself before the colonel with a rueful face and saluted him and said, "Colonel, I beg a thousand pardons;your dinner has been spilt--a shot from the bastion.""No matter," said the colonel."Give me a piece of bread instead."La Croix went for it himself, and on his return found Cadel sitting on one side of Death's Alley, and Dard with his head bound up on the other.They had got a bottle which each put up in turn wherever he fancied the next round shot would strike, and they were betting their afternoon rations which would get the Prussians to hit the bottle first.
La Croix pulled both their ears playfully.
"Time is up for playing marbles," said he."Be off, and play at duty," and he bundled them into the battery.
It was an hour past midnight: a cloudy night.The moon was up, but seen only by fitful gleams.A calm, peaceful silence reigned.
Dard was sentinel in the battery.
An officer going his rounds found the said sentinel flat instead of vertical.He stirred him with his scabbard, and up jumped Dard.
"It's all right, sergeant.O Lord! it's the colonel.I wasn't asleep, colonel.""I have not accused you.But you will explain what you were doing.""Colonel," said Dard, all in a flutter, "I was taking a squint at them, because I saw something.The beggars are building a wall, now.""Where?"
"Between us and the bastion."
"Show me."
"I can't, colonel; the moon has gone in; but I did see it.""How long was it?"
"About a hundred yards."
"How high?"
"Colonel, it was ten feet high if it was an inch.""Have you good sight?"
"La! colonel, wasn't I a bit of a poacher before I took to the bayonet?""Good! Now reflect.If you persist in this statement, I turn out the brigade on your information.""I'll stand the fire of a corporal's guard at break of day if I make a mistake now," said Dard.
The colonel glided away, called his captain and first lieutenants, and said two words in each ear, that made them spring off their backs.
Dard, marching to an fro, musket on shoulder, found himself suddenly surrounded by grim, silent, but deadly eager soldiers, that came pouring like bees into the open space behind the battery.The officers came round the colonel.
"Attend to two things," said he to the captains."Don't fire till they are within ten yards: and don't follow them unless I lead you."The men were then told off by companies, some to the battery, some to the trenches, some were kept on each side Death's Alley, ready for a rush.
They were not all of them in position, when those behind the parapet saw, as it were, something deepen the gloom of night, some fourscore yards to the front: it was like a line of black ink suddenly drawn upon a sheet covered with Indian ink.
It seems quite stationary.The novices wondered what it was.The veterans muttered--"Three deep."Though it looked stationary, it got blacker and blacker.The soldiers of the 24th brigade griped their muskets hard, and set their teeth, and the sergeants had much ado to keep them quiet.
All of a sudden, a loud yell on the right of the brigade, two or three single shots from the trenches in that direction, followed by a volley, the cries of wounded men, and the fierce hurrahs of an attacking party.
Our colonel knew too well those sounds: the next parallel had been surprised, and the Prussian bayonet was now silently at work.
Disguise was now impossible.At the first shot, a guttural voice in front of Dujardin's men was heard to give a word of command.There was a sharp rattle and in a moment the thick black line was tipped with glittering steel.
A roar and a rush, and the Prussian line three deep came furiously like a huge steel-pointed wave, at the French lines.A tremendous wave of fire rushed out to meet that wave of steel: a crash of two hundred muskets, and all was still.Then you could see through the black steel-tipped line in a hundred frightful gaps, and the ground sparkled with bayonets and the air rang with the cries of the wounded.
A tremendous cheer from the brigade, and the colonel charged at the head of his column, out by Death's Alley.
The broken wall was melting away into the night.The colonel wheeled his men to the right: one company, led by the impetuous young Captain Jullien, followed the flying enemy.
The other attack had been only too successful.They shot the sentries, and bayoneted many of the soldiers in their tents: others escaped by running to the rear, and some into the next parallel.
Several, half dressed, snatched up their muskets, killed one Prussian, and fell riddled like sieves.
A gallant officer got a company together into the place of arms and formed in line.
Half the Prussian force went at them, the rest swept the trenches:
