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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"The Adventures of Gerard"


The rest in a melancholy group were herded into the porch of the
town-hall, a sotnia of Cossacks keeping guard over them. Alas!
what could I say, what could I do? It was evident that I had led
my men into a carefully- baited trap. They had heard of our
mission and they had prepared for us. And yet there was that
despatch which had caused me to neglect all precautions and to
ride straight into the town. How was I to account for that? The
tears ran down my cheeks as I surveyed the ruin of my squadron,
and as I thought of the plight of my comrades of the Grand Army
who awaited the food which I was to have brought them. Ney had
trusted me and I had failed him. How often he would strain his
eyes over the snow-fields for that convoy of grain which should
never gladden his sight! My own fate was hard enough. An exile
in Siberia was the best which the future could bring me. But you
will believe me, my friends, that it was not for his own sake,
but for that of his starving comrades, that Etienne Gerard's
cheeks were lined by his tears, frozen even as they were shed.


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