French fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories
To conclude. We all three arrived at Florence. Don Ottavio married
Lucrezia, and they left immediately for Paris. My father gave him as
warm a welcome as I had received at the hands of the Marquise. He took
upon him to bring about a reconciliation, and after a good deal of
trouble he succeeded. The Marquis Aldobrandi was opportunely taken with
Roman fever and died; so Ottavio inherited his title and fortune, and I
became god-father to his firstborn.
_27th April_, 1846.
DJOUMANE
On the 21st of May, 18--, we returned to Tlemcen. The expedition had
been a fortunate one: we brought back oxen, sheep, goats, prisoners and
hostages.
After a thirty-seven days' campaign, or rather of incessant hunt, our
horses were thin and lean-ribbed, but their eyes were still lively and
full of fire; not one was saddle-galled. We men were bronzed by the sun,
our hair was long, our cross-belts were dirty, and our waistcoats were
worn to threads; we all presented that appearance of indifference to
danger and hardship which characterises the true soldier.
What general would not have chosen our light cavalry for a battle-charge
rather than the smartest of squadrons all decked out in new clothes.
Since morning I had thought of all the little pleasures that awaited me.
Now I should sleep in my iron bedstead, after having slept for
thirty-seven nights on a square of oilcloth. I should sit on a chair to
take my dinner, and should have as much soft bread and salt as I liked.
Next I wondered to myself whether Mademoiselle Coucha would wear a
pomegranate flower or jessamine in her hair, and if she had kept the
vows made when I left; but, faithful or inconstant, I knew she could
reckon on the great depth of tenderness that a man brings home from the
wilds. There was not anyone in our squadron who had not made plans for
the evening.
The colonel received us in a most fatherly manner, and even told us he
was satisfied with us; then he took our commanding officer aside and for
five minutes, and in low tones, communicated to him some not very
agreeable intelligence, so far as we could judge from their expressions.
We noticed the movements of the colonel's moustaches, which rose up to
his eyebrows, whilst those of the commandant fell, piteously out of
curl, almost on to his breast. A young trooper, whom I pretended not to
hear, maintained that the commandant's nose stretched as far as one
could see; but very soon ours lengthened too, for the commandant came to
tell us to "Go and feed your horses, and be ready to set off at sunset!
The officers will dine with the colonel at five o'clock, in the open;
the horses must be mounted after the coffee.... Is it possible that you
are not pleased at this, gentlemen?..."
It did not suit us, and we saluted in silence, inwardly sending him to
all the devils we could think of, and the colonel into the bargain.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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