France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Fiction; Napoleon I, Emperor of the French, 1769-1821 -- Fiction
During the evening Pichegru had had the forest explored, and had been
told that it was unguarded. At two in the morning they arrived at the
extremity of the horseshoe-shaped forest. They were separated from the
village of Dawendorff by about three miles of woodland. Pichegru gave
the order to halt and bivouac.
It was impossible to leave the men without a fire on such a night, and,
at the risk of being discovered, Pichegru gave the order for the men to
light piles of wood, around which they bivouacked. They had about four
hours before them.
During the entire march the general had kept his eye on Charles, to whom
he had given a trumpeter's horse, with a saddle that was both high in
front and back, and covered with sheepskin, so that it afforded a solid
seat even for the most inexperienced rider. But Pichegru saw with
pleasure that his young secretary placed himself unhesitatingly in the
saddle, and had managed his horse without awkwardness. When they reached
the encampment, he himself showed him how to unsaddle and picket his
horse, and make a pillow of the saddle. A good riding-coat, which had
been put in his portmanteau at the general's direction, made a
comfortable mattress and covering.
Charles, who had not lost his religious feelings in the midst of this
age of irreligion, said his silent prayer, and went to sleep as
peacefully as he would have done in his own room at Besançon.
Advance posts placed in the woods, and as sentinels on the flanks, which
were relieved every half hour, watched over the safety of the little
army. About four o'clock they were awakened by a shot fired by one of
the sentinels, and, in an instant, every one was on his feet.
Pichegru glanced at Charles; he had run to his horse, taken the pistols
from their holsters, and returned to the general's side, where he
remained standing with a pistol in either hand.
The general sent twenty men in the direction whence the shot had been
fired; as the sentinel had not repeated the shot, the probability was
that he had been killed. But when they approached the spot where he had
been posted, the men heard him calling for help; they hastened their
steps, and saw, not men, but beasts, who were put to flight by their
appearance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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