He took a step or two to meet them. After the usual salutes, one of the three colonels delivered a large paper, with a large seal, to Dujardin. He read it out to his captains and lieutenants, who had assembled at sight of the cocked hats and full uniforms.
“Attack by the army to-morrow upon all the lines. Attack of the bastion St. Andre this evening. The 22d, the 24th, and 12th brigades will furnish the contingents; the operation will be conducted by one of the colonels of the second division, to be appointed by General Raimbaut.”
“Aha!” sounded a voice like a trombone at the reader’s elbow. “I am just in the nick of time. When, colonel, when?”
“At five this evening, Colonel Raynal.”
“There,” said Raynal, in a half-whisper, to Dujardin; “could they choose no hour but that?”
“Do not be uneasy,” replied Dujardin, under his breath. He explained aloud—“the assault will not take place, gentlemen; the bastion is mined.”
“What of that? half of them are mined. We will take our engineers in with us,” said Raynal.
“Such an assault will be a useless massacre,” resumed Dujardin. “I reconnoitred the bastion last night, and saw their preparations for blowing us to the devil; and General Raimbaut, at my request, is even now presenting my remarks to the commander-in-chief, and enforcing them. There will be no assault. In a day or two we shall blow the bastion, mines, and all into the air.”
At this moment Raynal caught sight of a gray-haired officer coming at some distance. “There IS General Raimbaut,” said he. “I will go and pay my respects to him.” General Raimbaut shook his hand warmly, and welcomed him to the army. They were old and warm friends. “And you are come at the right time,” said he. “It will soon be as hot here as in Egypt.”
Raynal laughed and said all the better.