“What, Tiernay—this you?” cried he. “How is this? have I forgotten you all this time? What’s to be done now? You ought to have gone on with the rest, monsieur. You should have volunteered with some corps, eh?”
“I hoped to have been attached to yourself, general. I thought I could, perhaps, have made myself useful.”
“Yes, yes, very true; so you might, I’ve no doubt; but my staff is full, I’ve no vacancy. What’s to be done now? Lestocque, have we any spare cattle?”
“Yes, general; we’ve your own eight horses, and two of Cambronne’s.”
“Ah, poor fellow, he’ll not want them more. I suppose Tiernay may as well take one of them, at least.”
“There’s an undress uniform, too, of Cambronne’s would fit Monsieur de Tiernay,” said the officer, who, I saw, had no fancy for my motley costume alongside of him.
“Oh, Tiernay doesn’t care for that; he’s too old a soldier to bestow a thought upon the color of his jacket,” said Massena.
“Pardon me, general, but it is exactly one of my weaknesses; and I feel that until I get rid of these trappings I shall never feel myself a soldier.”
“I thought you had been made of other stuff,” muttered the general, “and particularly since there’s like to be little love-making in the present campaign.” And with that he rode forward, leaving me to follow when I could.