My guide was an officer of the garrison, and seemed considerably flattered by the testimony I bore to the impregnability of the fortress; describing as we went along, for my better instruction, the various remarkable features of the place. Lord, how weary I was of casemates and embrasures, of bomb-proofs and culverins, half-moons and platforms; and as I continued, from politeness to express my surprise and wonderment, he took the more pains to expound those hidden treasures; and I verily believe he took me a mile out of my way, to point out the place, in the dark, where a large gun lay, that took a charge of one hundred and seventy livres weight. I was now fairly done up; and having sworn solemnly that the French army dare not show their noses this side of the Rhine, so long as a Corporal’s guard remained at Erfurt, I begged hard to have a peep at the “Kaiser.”
“Won’t you see the Rothen Stein?” said he.
“To-morrow,—if I survive,” said I, dropping my voice for the last words.
“Nor the Wunder Brucke?——”
“With God’s blessing, to-morrow, I’ll visit them all; I came for the purpose.” Heaven pardon the lie, I was almost fainting.
“Be it so, then,” said he, “We must go back again now. We have come a good distance out of our road.”
With a heavy groan, I turned back; and if I did not curse Vauban and Carnot, it was because I am a good Christian, and of a most forgiving temper.
“Here we are now, this is the Kaiser,” said he, as after half an hour’s sharp walking, we stood within a huge archway, dimly lighted by a great old-fashioned lantern.
“You stop here some days, I think you said?”
“Yes, for a fortnight; or a week, at least.”