The Great White Army

by Max Pemberton

I looked at the girl in his arms and wondered if he spoke truly.

We were now within a quarter of a mile of the building and could see a portcullis and a gate from which men on horseback were riding out. When they approached nearer it was plain that they were the servants of the dead man whose body lay in the woods behind us; and observing this we drew aside behind the trees to let them pass. It was evident that they had told the story of their trouble to the good monks in yonder building; and some of the latter, clad in brown habits with white cords about their waists, were going down to their assistance.

I noticed that the servants were five in number and were all heavily armed. Obviously they must have been men of little sense to have left their master alone with a bandit in such a place and so to have contributed to his death. The same idea occurred to Léon, who did not fail to point out to me the nature of the peril from which he had saved the girl, who now lay trembling in his arms.

"They would have cut her to pieces if we had not come up," said he. "We are doing a work of mercy, mon oncle, in saving her from them. Let us get on to the monastery and tell our own story. Of course we know nothing of any carriage or its owners; we are just officers of the Grand Army, and if we are not treated properly our comrades will see to it. I count it very fortunate that things have turned out so. We shall get an excellent dinner and a good night's rest, and to-morrow we shall be with the regiment again. Could anything be better?"

He seemed well pleased enough, and I did not know what answer to make to him. As for the Eastern woman, common sense said that he would send her about her business in the morning; but not until he had made sure that she could go in safety. These things pertain to war, and it is not possible to disguise them. Léon was just as fifty thousand others who marched at the Emperor's summons, neither better nor worse; and if there be any excuse to be made for him, it is that he had a sentiment towards the sex which was rarely lacking in nobility.

"Let no man consider himself happy until he is dead," said I, imitating the philosopher; and with that I pressed on at his side until we came to the gate of the monastery, and nothing remained but to tell our story to the good monks within. This was easier than might have seemed, for they had no word of our own tongue and we none of theirs. It was a matter of gesture from the beginning, and in this we excelled them without question. But first let me speak of the building we now entered.

The monastery covered some three acres of ground. There were a few tilled fields about it and a considerable courtyard in the Eastern fashion. The chapel was a rude imitation of the Church of St. Ivan at Moscow, and had a similar cross, though of smaller size, upon its gilded dome.

The whole enclosure had been heavily walled about as a protection against any raiding bands of brigands; and there were even ancient cannon upon its battlement. Although lacking a moat, there was a big pool or lake before its main gate, and this was spanned by a primitive bridge with a portcullis beyond it. Here we found the keeper of the gate, a sturdy bearded monk, filthy in aspect if servile in manner. He seemed not a little awed by our uniform and equipment, but when he caught sight of the girl on Léon's saddle, a broad grin animated his features and he no longer delayed to open.

So we rode into a small courtyard and there tethered our horses. The chapel lay to the south of this, and there came to us rude sounds of Gregorian chanting, which is the fashion in their Church, and very melodious when executed by the best singers. Those who now recited the sacred office were not of such a class, and their barbarous voices suggested that we were in Araby rather than in civilised Europe. This, however, did not concern us. Our desire was for food and shelter, and following a monk into a vast refectory we signified our wants to him and commanded him to satisfy them. In his turn he did not appear unwilling to oblige us, and motioning us to sit at the table, he went from the refectory and left us alone.

Now I should tell you that the girl Zayde had entered this monastery with some reluctance, and in spite of Léon's endearments she seemed very ill at ease while we remained there. Léon, on the other hand, had found his best spirit, and was in the mood for any adventure which might come to him. Perhaps the church and the habit suggested the absurdity on which he now set his heart, for, turning to me suddenly, he said: