Adventure stories, English; France -- History -- Consulate and First Empire, 1799-1815 -- Fiction; Soldiers of fortune -- Fiction
‘Just so,’ rejoined he; ‘every man of sense and discretion must confess
it. Happily for you, too, I know it; ay, Tiernay I know it, and practise
it. When a young fellow has acquitted himself to my satisfaction during
the day--not that I mean to say that the performance has not its fair
share of activity and zeal--when evening comes and stable duty finished,
arms burnished, and accoutrements cleaned, what do you think I say to
him?--eh, Tiernay--just guess now?’
‘Probably, sir, you tell him he is free to spend an hour at the canteen,
or take his sweetheart to the theatre.’
‘What! more fatigue! more exhaustion to an already tired and worn-out
nature!’
‘I ask pardon, sir, I see I was wrong; but I had forgotten how
thoroughly the poor fellow was done up. I now see that you told him to
go to bed.’
‘To bed! to bed! Is it that he might writhe in the nightmare, or suffer
agony from cramps? To bed after fatigue like this! No, no, Tiernay; that
was not the school in which I was brought up; we were taught to think of
the men under our command; to remember that they had wants, sympathies,
hopes, fears, and emotions like our own. I tell him to seat himself
at the table, and with pen, ink, and paper before him, to write up the
blanks. I see you don’t quite understand me, Tiernay, as to the meaning
of the phrase, but I’ll let you into the secret. You have been kind
enough to give me a peep at your note-book, and you shall in return have
a look at mine. Open that volume, and tell me what you find in it.’
I obeyed the direction, and read at the top of a page the words,
‘Skeleton, 5th Prarial,’ in large characters, followed by several
isolated words, denoting the strength of a brigade, the number of guns
in a battery, the depth of a fosse, the height of a parapet, and such
like. These were usually followed by a flourish of the pen, or sometimes
by the word ‘Bom.,’ which singular monosyllable always occurred at the
foot of the pages.
‘Well, have you caught the key to the cipher?’ said he, after a pause.
‘Not quite, sir,’ said I, pondering; ‘I can perceive that the chief
facts stand prominently forward, in a fair round hand; I can also guess
that the flourishes may be spaces left for detail; but this word “Bom.”
puzzles me completely.’
‘Quite correct, as to the first part,’ said he approvingly; ‘and as to
the mysterious monosyllable, it is nothing more than an abbreviation for
“Bombaste,” which is always to be done to the taste of each particular
commanding officer.’
‘I perceive, sir,’ said I quickly; ‘like the wadding of a gun, which may
increase the loudness, but never affect the strength of the shot.’
‘Precisely, Tiernay; you have hit it exactly. Now I hope that, with a
little practice, you may be able to acquit yourself respectably in this
walk; and now to begin our skeleton. Turn over to a fresh page, and
write as I dictate to you.’
So saying, he filled his pipe and lighted it, and disposing his limbs in
an attitude of perfect ease, he began:--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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