I hurried into the quarters, which already seemed lonely and deserted, so soon does desolation throw its darkening shadow before it. The sword that had hung above the chimney crosswise on my own was gone; the shako, too, and the pistols were missing; the vacant chair stood opposite to mine; and the isolation I felt became so painful that I wandered out into the open air, glad to escape the sight of objects every one of which only suggested how utterly alone I stood in the world when the departure of one friend had left me companionless.
No one save he who has experienced it can form any just idea of the intense hold a career of any kind will take of the mind of him who, without the ties of country, of kindred, and of friends, devotes all his energies in one direction. The affections that might, under other influences, have grown up,—the hopes that might have flourished in the happy sphere of a home,—become the springs of a more daring ambition. In proportion as he deserts other roads in life, the path he has struck out for himself seems wider and grander, and his far-seeing eye enables him to look into the long distance with a prophetic vision, where are rewards for his hard won victories, the recompense of long years of toil. The pursuit, become a passion, gradually draws all into its vortex; and that success which at first he believed only attainable by some one mighty effort, seems at last to demand every energy of his life and every moment of his existence: and as the miser would deem his ruin near should the most trifling opportunity of gain escape him, so does the ambitious man feel that every incident in life must be made tributary to the success which is his mammon. It was thus I thought of the profession of arms: my whole soul was in it; no other wish, no other hope, divided my heart; that passion reigned there alone. How often do we find it in life that the means become the end,—that the effort we employ to reach an object takes hold upon our fancy, gains hourly upon our affections, and at length usurps the place of what before had been our idol? As a boy, liberty, the bold assertion of my country's rights, stirred my heart, and made me wish to be a soldier. As years rolled on, the warlike passion sank deeper and deeper in my nature,—the thirst for glory grew upon me; and forgetting all save that, I longed for the time when on the battle-field I should win my name to fame and honor.
In this wise were my musings, as I loitered homeward and entered my quarters. A sealed packet, addressed Sous-Lieutenant Burke,—how that humble title made my heart beat!—lay on my table. Supposing it referred to my new appointment, I sat down to con it over at my leisure; but no sooner had I torn open the envelope than a card fell to the ground. I took it up hastily, and read,—“D'après l'ordre de Madame Bonaparte, j'ai l'honneur de vous inviter à une soirée—”
“What!” cried I, aloud; “me!—invite me to the Palace! There must be some mistake here.” And I turned again to the envelope, where my name was legibly written, with my grade and the number of my new corps. There could be no doubt of it; and yet was it still inexplicable. I that was so perfectly alone,—a stranger, without a friend, save among the humble ranks of the school,—how came such a distinction as this to be conferred on me? I thought of Tascher; but then we had lived months together, and such a thing had never been even alluded to. The more I reflected on it, the greater became my difficulty; and in a maze of confusion and embarrassment, I passed the day in preparation for the evening,—for, as was customary at the period, the invitations for small parties were issued on the very mornings' themselves.
My first care was to look after the uniform of my new corps, in which I knew I must appear. My last remaining bank note—the sole survivor of my little stock of wealth—was before me; and I sat calculating with myself the costly outlay of a hussar dress, the full uniform of which had not till now entered into my computation. Never was my ingenuity more sorely tried than in the endeavor to bring the outlay within the narrow limits of my little purse; and when at length I would think that all had been remembered, some small but costly item would rise up against me, and disconcert all my calculations.
At noon I set out to wait on my new colonel, whose quarters were in the Place Vendome. The visit was a short and not over pleasant one; a crowd of officers filled the rooms, among whom I edged my way with difficulty towards the place where Colonel Marbois was standing. He was a short, thick-set, vulgar-looking man, of about fifty; his mustache and whiskers meeting above the lip, and his bushy, black beard below, gave him the air of a pioneer, which his harsh Breton accent did not derogate from.
“Ah, c'est vous!” said he, as my name was announced. “You 'll have to learn in future, sir, that officers of your rank are not received at the levies of their colonel. You hear me: report yourself to the chef d'escadron, however, who will give you your orders. And mark me, sir, let this be the last day you are seen in that uniform.”
A short and not very gracious nod concluded the audience; and I took my leave not the less abashed that I could mark a kind of half smile on most of the faces about me as I withdrew from the crowd,—scarcely in the street, however, when my heart felt light and my step elastic. I was a sous-lieutenant of hussars; and if I did my duty, what cared I for the smiles and frowns of my colonel? and had not the General Bonaparte himself told me that “no grade was too high for the brave man who did so?”
