The Adventures of Harry Rochester: A Tale of the Days of Marlborough and EugeneStrang, Herbert
General
The Adventures of Harry Rochester: A Tale of the Days of Marlborough and Eugene
Strang, Herbert
Blenheim, Battle of, Blindheim, Bavaria, Germany, 1704 -- Juvenile fiction
Madame de Vaudrey stood in agitated silence while this rapid colloquy
was in progress. Adèle was still bathing the wounded man’s temples; no
one present had sufficient knowledge to attempt more than the roughest
of means to bind the wound. In a few minutes the general opened his
eyes.
"Where am I?" he asked, feebly.
"In the house of Madame de Vaudrey," said that lady.
"How far from where I was shot?"
"Only a few miles," replied the aide-de-camp.
"Then someone must ride to Breda for help, and take my despatches. They
must be at the Hague to-night."
"I will write a note to the commandant," said the aide-de-camp, "and
send one of the troopers."
"No, no, lieutenant, you must ride yourself. I can’t trust the
despatches to a trooper."
"But I do not care to leave you, general."
"It is my wish. The enemy can only capture me, but they may do
unheard-of mischief around. Delay no longer: ride fast."
The exertion of talking was too much for him, and he swooned again.
Loth as he was to go, the aide-de-camp could not ignore the general’s
express instructions. Before leaving he took Harry aside and asked him
to consider himself in command of the troopers.
"You’re not strong enough to beat off the enemy," he said, "but it will
be well for the men to have someone to look to in emergency. Don’t let
the general fall into the enemy’s hands if you can help it."
Harry hesitated. His first duty was undoubtedly to secure the safety of
the convoy, for the sake both of the Breda garrison and Mynheer Grootz.
On the other hand, he scouted the idea of deserting the ladies in their
predicament. Further, the raiding-party were upon the road behind him;
they had clearly swept round Eyndhoven, avoiding Helmund, and in all
probability were on the heels of the general. Even if he got his convoy
safely away from the village it could only move at a walking pace. In
an hour or two it must be overtaken, and he would thus do no good either
for himself or the ladies by instant flight. He therefore made up his
mind to remain at Lindendaal, and assured the aide-de-camp that he would
do his best. But when the lieutenant had ridden off, and Harry
reflected on the position of the ladies, he thought it worth while to
suggest that they should start at once for Breda in order to be out of
harm’s way. Adèle answered at once for her mother.
"Impossible, Monsieur! We cannot leave the general; we will not leave
the house. Consult your own duty."
Her tone was not to be gainsaid. Harry went into the hall, wondering
what he could do for the best. He met Sherebiah at the door.
"Eh, sir, ’tis a pretty pickle o’ fish."
"What are we to do, Sherry?"
"As a man o’ peace, I say cut and run."
"Can’t we defend the house?"
"Wi’ ten Dutch dragoons and a gardener and a maid or two? And two
hundred French, so ’tis said!"
"But men will come in from the villages round."
"Ay, on foot, and with pitchforks and flails. Not much good against
swords and carbines."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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