‘Make way there--out of the road, Mère Madou,’ cried a dragoon, curveting his horse in such a fashion as almost to upset ass and _cantinière_ together, ‘the staff is coming.’ The mere mention of the word sent numbers off in full speed to their quarters; and now all was haste and bustle to prepare for the coming inspection. The mère’s endeavours to drag her beast along were not very successful, for, with the peculiar instinct of his species, the more necessity there was of speed, the lazier he became; and as every one had his own concerns to look after, she was left to her own unaided efforts to drive him forward. ‘Thou’lt have a day in prison if thou’rt found here, Mère Madou,’ said a dragoon, as he struck the ass with the flat of his sabre. ‘I know it well,’ cried she passionately; ‘but I have none to help me. Come here, lad; be good-natured, and forget what passed. Take his bridle while I whip him on.’ I was at first disposed to refuse, but her pitiful face and sad plight made me think better of it, and I seized the bridle at once; but just as I had done so, the escort galloped forward, and the dragoons coming on the flank of the miserable beast, over he went, barrels and all, crushing me beneath him as he fell. [Illustration: 111] ‘Is the boy hurt?’ were the last words I heard, as I fainted; but a few minutes after I found myself seated on the grass, while a soldier was stanching the blood that ran freely from a cut in my forehead. ‘It is a trifle, general--a mere scratch,’ said a young officer to an old man on horseback beside him, ‘and the leg is not broken.’ ‘Glad of it,’ said the old officer; ‘casualties are insufferable, except before an enemy. Send the lad to his regiment.’ ‘He’s only a camp-follower, general. He does not belong to us.’ ‘There, my lad, take this, then, and make thy way back to Paris,’ said the old general, as he threw me a small piece of money. I looked up, and, straight before me, saw the same officer who had given me the assignat the night before. ‘General Lacoste!’ cried I, in delight, for I thought him already a friend. ‘How is this--have I an acquaintance here?’ said he, smiling; ‘on my life! it’s the young rogue I met this morning. Eh! art not thou the artillery-driver I spoke to at the barrack?’ ‘Yes, general, the same.’ ‘_Diantre!_ It seems fated, then, that we are not to part company so easily; for hadst thou remained in Paris, lad, we had most probably never met again.’ ‘_Ainsi, je suis bien tombé, general?_ said I, punning upon my accident. He laughed heartily, less, I suppose, at the jest, which was a poor one, than at the cool impudence with which I uttered it, and then turning to one of the staff, said-- ‘I spoke to Bertholet about this boy already; see that they take him in the 9th. I say, my lad, what’s thy name?’ ‘Tiernay, sir.’ ‘Ay, to be sure, Tiernay. Well, Tiernay, thou shalt be a hussar, my man. See that I get no disgrace by the appointment.’