Darcy, whom personal considerations were ever the last to influence, smiled at these brutal demonstrations, delighted at heart to witness such palpable evidence of insubordination in the enemy; nor could he, in the very midst of outrages which perilled his life, avoid comparing to his followers the French troops of former days with these soldiers of the Republic. “I remember them at Quebec,” said he, “under Montcalm. It may be too much to say that the spirit of a monarchy had imparted a sense of chivalry to its defenders, but certainly it is fair to think that the bloody orgies of a revolutionary capital have made a ruffian and ruthless soldiery.”
Nor was this the only source of consolation open; for he beheld on every side of him, in the disorder of the force, the moral discouragement of the army, and the meagre preparations made for the defence of Alexandria. Wounded and weary, he took full note of these various circumstances, and made them the theme of encouragement to his companions in captivity. “There is little here, lads,” said he, “to make us fear a long imprisonment. The gallant fellows, whose watch-fires crown yonder hills, will soon bivouac here. All these preparations denote haste and inefficiency. These stockades will offer faint resistance, their guns seem in many instances unserviceable, and from what we have seen of their infantry to-day, we need never fear the issue of a struggle with them.”
In the brief intervals of an occasional halt, he lost no opportunity of remarking the appearance of the enemy's soldiery,—their bearing and their equipment,—and openly communicated to his comrades his opinion that the French army was no longer the formidable force it had been represented to be, and that the first heavy reverse would be its dismemberment. In all the confidence a foreign language suggests, he spoke his mind freely and without reserve, not sparing the officers in his criticisms, which now and then took a form of drollery that drew laughter from the other prisoners. It was at the close of some remark of this kind, and while the merriment had not yet subsided, that a French major, who had more than once shown interest for the venerable old soldier, rode close up to his side, and whispered a few words of friendly caution in his ear, while by an almost imperceptible gesture he pointed to a group of prisoners who accompanied the Knight's party, and persisted in pressing close to where he walked. These were four dragoons of Hompesch's regiment, then serving with the British army, but a corps which had taken no part in the late action. Darcy could not help wondering at their capture,—a feeling not devoid of distrust, as he remarked that neither their dress nor accoutrements bore any trace of the fierce struggle, while their manner exhibited a degree of rude assurance and effrontery, rather than the regretful feelings of men taken prisoners.
Darcy's attention was not permitted to dwell much more on the circumstance, for at the same instant the column was halted, in order that the wounded might pass on; and in the sad spectacle that now presented itself, all memory of his own griefs was merged. The procession was a long one, and seemed even more so than it was, from the frequent halts in front, the road being choked up by tumbrels and wagons, all confusedly mixed up in the hurry of retreat. Night was now falling fast, but still there was light enough to descry the ghastly looks of the poor fellows, suffering in every variety of agony. Some sought vent to their tortures by shouts and cries of pain; others preserved a silence that seemed from their agonized features an effort as dreadful as the very wounds themselves; many were already mad with suffering, and sang and blasphemed, with shrieks of mingled recklessness and misery. What a terrible reverse to the glory of war, and how far deeper into the heart do such scenes penetrate than all the triumphs the most successful campaign has ever gathered! While Darcy still gazed on this sad sight, he was gently touched on the arm by the same officer who had addressed him before, saying, “There is an English soldier here among the wounded, who wishes to speak with you; it is against my orders to permit it, but be brief and cautious.” With a motion to a litter some paces in the rear, the officer moved on to his place in the column, nor waited for any reply.
The Knight lost not a second in profiting by the kind suggestion, but in the now thickening, gloom it was some time before he could discover the object of his search. At length he caught sight of the well-known uniform of his corps,—the blue jacket slashed with silver,—as it was thrown loosely over the figure, and partly over the face of a wounded soldier. Gently removing it, he gazed with steadfastness at the pale and bloodless countenance of a young and handsome man, who with half-closed eyelids lay scarcely breathing before him. “Do you know me, my poor fellow?” whispered Darcy, bending down over him,—“do you know me? For I feel as if we should know each other well, and had met before this.” The wounded man met his glance with a look of kind acknowledgment, but made no effort to speak; a faint sigh broke from him, as with a tremulous hand he pushed back the jacket and showed a terrible bayonet-stab in the chest, from which at each respiration the blood welled out in florid rivulets.
“Where is the surgeon?” said Darcy, to the soldier beside the litter.
“He is here, Monsieur,” said a sharp-looking man, who, without coat and with shirt-sleeves tucked up, came hastily forward.
“Can you look to this poor fellow for me?” whispered Darcy, while he pressed into the not unwilling hand of the doctor a somewhat weighty purse.
“We can do little more thau put a pad on a wounded vessel just now,” said the surgeon, as with practised coolness he split up with a scissors the portions of dress around the wound. “When we have them once housed in the hospital—Parbleu!” cried he, interrupting himself, “this is a severe affair.”
Darcy turned away while the remorseless fingers of the surgeon probed the gaping incision, and then whispered low, “Can he recover?”