A few paces behind these were the colours, carried by a subaltern, and flanked by their guard with bayonets fixed. In front of the band and facing the barrack gates, which were in the centre and open side of the square, was Colonel Barbery, our commanding officer, mounted on a white Arab stallion with streaming mane and tail.
Our chief, if one could judge by the anxious glances he threw at his men and the repeated tugs he gave to his heavy white moustache, was impatient and a little nervous, for the corps was about to undergo the searching inspection of the General commanding the 19th corps d'armée, of which our regiment was a unit.
Only those who have assisted as an actor in an ordeal of this kind, can fully appreciate the nervous tension produced on all present by the last few minutes of waiting prior to the event.
The previous day, and indeed part of the night, has been spent in preparations.
"Troops to be paraded in full campaigning order"—so ran the general command; and in consequence there were stores and ammunition to be served out in addition to the ordinary work which devolves on the private and his superiors previous to a big review. Into the preceding twenty-four hours has been crammed as much hustling, rushing, brushing, scrubbing, polishing as the men and their officers can be expected to support; and now that the activity has been suddenly succeeded by a dead calm, and the query has arisen in the minds of all present as to whether everything necessary to the upholding of the good traditions of the corps has been done, the three thousand rank and file present and their chief can be reasonably excused the feeling of nervous tension which pervades them, and which owes its origin to the brusque reaction of the change from febrile activity to silent and immobile expectancy.
At such moments the most trivial incidents, which at ordinary times would pass unnoticed, will produce a general impression, even as a tiny twig falling into a well will create a ripple on the surface of its water.
Impressed, perhaps, by the silence of the motionless men around him, the Colonel's charger arches his beautiful neck, paws the stone pavement and whinnies. The mounts of the majors and company commanders take up and echo his shrill cry, break into little impatient movements, and are at once curbed by their riders. The incident, if so it can be called, is over in less time than it takes to describe; but even this banality has sufficed to provoke a grin which passes on from face to face, until a wave of still and nervous mirth ripples across the features of all.
Some one's steel-shod rifle-butt, breaking the tense silence, clangs on the stones, and one can almost feel the passing of the silent curses which, quicker than thought, go out from each to the comrade for his carelessness. Then in the distance there is a sound—at first a murmur—which as it approaches gains volume, until the noise of trotting hoofs and the occasional clink of steel can be distinguished.
All eyes are at once turned to the barrack railings and the gate with its flanking guard house. Beyond this, on the opposite pavement, can be seen the expectant crowd, composed of a big element of French and Spanish colonists in ordinary European attire, many stately Arabs clad in long white burnous, and head-dress of the same colour, which is secured with the usual cord of camel's hair; a sprinkling of Algerian Jews in baggy knickerbockers and gaudy-hued embroidered jackets, and here and there a few native women of the lower classes, most of whom wear the haik or long veil which conceals their hair and all their features save the eyes, unless they be of Kabyle blood, and expose their small and comely traits.
The faces of the crowd are all turned in one direction, their hands raised, shading their eyes from the glare of the African sun, which brings out, with almost painful vividness, the bright dashes of colour in their costumes, as they gaze eagerly towards the approaching cavalcade, the sound of which is now so near that it mingles with the sharp words of command, and the rattle of the rifles of the guard at the gate as they come to the salute. The Colonel draws his sword, and spurs his charger forward a few paces.