"Ah, my poor boy!" he exclaimed.
Croisier began to sob bitterly.
"Come," said Bonaparte, "have a little courage."
"Ah," said Croisier, lifting himself up in his litter, "you think I am weeping because I am going to die? I am weeping because you called me a coward; and I tried to get myself killed just because you did call me that."
"But," said Bonaparte, "I sent you a sword after that. Didn't Roland give it to you?"
"Here it is," replied Croisier, seizing the weapon which was at his side, and carrying it to his lips. "Those who are carrying me know that I want to have it buried with me. Tell them to do that, general."
And the wounded man clasped his hands imploringly.
Bonaparte dropped the corner of the cloth which covered the litter, gave the necessary order, and walked away.
When they left Tentoura on the following day they came upon a quicksand of considerable extent. There was no other road, so the artillery was obliged to take it, and the guns sank deep in the sand. They laid all the sick and wounded on the edge for a time, while they harnessed all the horses to the gun-carriages and wagons. But it was useless; wagons and cannon sunk to their middle in the sand. The able-bodied soldiers asked to be allowed to make a last effort. They exhausted themselves uselessly.