“Qui va la?” The rattle of musketry, the flash of steel before my eyes.
Instinctively I stopped, though close behind me came a rush of my
pursuers.
Another word or two, and out from a gateway poured, as it seemed to me,
a tide of red and blue, as the guard turned out. All around seemed
blazing with light, and the flash of steel, the clink and rattle of
arms, and the loud, harsh voices of command. As I fell forward, utterly
exhausted, a soldier caught me. I looked back in dreadful expectation,
and saw the mass of dark forms disappearing into the night. Then I must
have fainted. When I recovered my senses I was in the guard room. They
gave me brandy, and after a while I was able to tell them something of
what had passed. Then a commissary of police appeared, apparently out
of the empty air, as is the way of the Parisian police officer. He
listened attentively, and then had a moment’s consultation with the
officer in command. Apparently they were agreed, for they asked me if I
were ready now to come with them.
“Where to?” I asked, rising to go.
“Back to the dust heaps. We shall, perhaps, catch them yet!”
“I shall try!” said I.
He eyed me for a moment keenly, and said suddenly:
“Would you like to wait a while or till tomorrow, young Englishman?”
This touched me to the quick, as, perhaps, he intended, and I jumped to
my feet.
“Come now!” I said; “now! now! An Englishman is always ready for his
duty!”
The commissary was a good fellow, as well as a shrewd one; he slapped
my shoulder kindly. “Brave garçon!” he said. “Forgive me, but I knew
what would do you most good. The guard is ready. Come!”
And so, passing right through the guard room, and through a long
vaulted passage, we were out into the night. A few of the men in front
had powerful lanterns. Through courtyards and down a sloping way we
passed out through a low archway to a sunken road, the same that I had
seen in my flight. The order was given to get at the double, and with a
quick, springing stride, half run, half walk, the soldiers went swiftly
along. I felt my strength renewed again—such is the difference between
hunter and hunted. A very short distance took us to a low-lying pontoon
bridge across the stream, and evidently very little higher up than I
had struck it. Some effort had evidently been made to damage it, for
the ropes had all been cut, and one of the chains had been broken. I
heard the officer say to the commissary:
“We are just in time! A few more minutes, and they would have destroyed
the bridge. Forward, quicker still!” and on we went. Again we reached a
pontoon on the winding stream; as we came up we heard the hollow boom
of the metal drums as the efforts to destroy the bridge was again
renewed. A word of command was given, and several men raised their
rifles.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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