Something seemed to take me by the throat and choke me. And then
in an instant Olivier's arms were round me, Pelletan had seized
me by the right hand, Mortier by the left, some were patting me
on the shoulder, some were clapping me on the back, on every side
smiling faces were looking into mine; and so it was that I knew
that I had won my footing in the Hussars of Conflans.
III.
How the Brigadier Slew the Fox[*]
[*] This story, already published in The Green Flag, is included
here so that all of the Brigadier Gerard stories may appear
together.
In all the great hosts of France there was only one officer
toward whom the English of Wellington's Army retained a deep,
steady, and unchangeable hatred.
There were plunderers among the French, and men of violence,
gamblers, duellists, and roues. All these could be forgiven, for
others of their kidney were to be found among the ranks of the
English. But one officer of Massena's force had committed a
crime which was unspeakable, unheard of, abominable; only to be
alluded to with curses late in the evening, when a second bottle
had loosened the tongues of men.
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