Original Short Stories — Volume 01Maupassant, Guy de
General
Original Short Stories — Volume 01
Maupassant, Guy de
Short stories, French -- Translations into English
The officer had given a command. Some men had started off. They came
back with branches they had cut, and in a minute a litter was ready. The
whole detachment had joined them by this time.
“Here is a woman dying of cold,” said the lieutenant. “Who will give his
cape to cover her?”
Two hundred capes were taken off. The young girl was wrapped up in these
warm soldiers' capes, gently laid in the litter, and then four' hardy
shoulders lifted her up, and like an Eastern queen borne by her slaves
she was placed in the center of the detachment of soldiers, who resumed
their march with more energy, more courage, more cheerfulness, animated
by the presence of a woman, that sovereign inspiration that has stirred
the old French blood to so many deeds of valor.
At the end of an hour they halted again and every one lay down in the
snow. Over yonder on the level country a big, dark shadow was moving.
It looked like some weird monster stretching itself out like a serpent,
then suddenly coiling itself into a mass, darting forth again, then
back, and then forward again without ceasing. Some whispered orders
were passed around among the soldiers, and an occasional little, dry,
metallic click was heard. The moving object suddenly came nearer, and
twelve Uhlans were seen approaching at a gallop, one behind the other,
having lost their way in the darkness. A brilliant flash suddenly
revealed to them two hundred mete lying on the ground before them. A
rapid fire was heard, which died away in the snowy silence, and all the
twelve fell to the ground, their horses with them.
After a long rest the march was resumed. The old man whom they had
captured acted as guide.
Presently a voice far off in the distance cried out: “Who goes there?”
Another voice nearer by gave the countersign.
They made another halt; some conferences took place. It had stopped
snowing. A cold wind was driving the clouds, and innumerable stars were
sparkling in the sky behind them, gradually paling in the rosy light of
dawn.
A staff officer came forward to receive the detachment. But when he
asked who was being carried in the litter, the form stirred; two little
hands moved aside the big blue army capes and, rosy as the dawn, with
two eyes that were brighter than the stars that had just faded from
sight, and a smile as radiant as the morn, a dainty face appeared.
“It is I, monsieur.”
The soldiers, wild with delight, clapped their hands and bore the young
girl in triumph into the midst of the camp, that was just getting to
arms. Presently General Carrel arrived on the scene. At nine o'clock the
Prussians made an attack. They beat a retreat at noon.
That evening, as Lieutenant Lare, overcome by fatigue, was sleeping on a
bundle of straw, he was sent for by the general. He found the commanding
officer in his tent, chatting with the old man whom they had come across
during the night. As soon as he entered the tent the general took his
hand, and addressing the stranger, said:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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