.

"To me, comrades! To me!" I yelled. I heard a buzz as when the angry
bees swarm from their nest. Then my splendid white Arab fell dead under
me and I was hurled on to the cobble-stones of the yard, where I can
remember no more.

Such was my last and most famous exploit, my dear friends, a story which
rang through Europe and has made the name of Etienne Gerard famous in
history.

Alas! that all my efforts could only give the Emperor a few weeks more
liberty, since he surrendered upon the 15th of July to the English. But
it was not my fault that he was not able to collect the forces still
waiting for him in France, and to fight another Waterloo with a happier
ending. Had others been as loyal as I was the history of the world might
have been changed, the Emperor would have preserved his throne, and such
a soldier as I would not have been left to spend his life in planting
cabbages or to while away his old age telling stories in a cafe. You ask
me about the fate of Stein and the Prussian horsemen! Of the three
who dropped upon the way I know nothing. One you will remember that I
killed. There remained five, three of whom were cut down by my Hussars,
who, for the instant, were under the impression that it was indeed the
Emperor whom they were defending. Stein was taken, slightly wounded, and
so was one of the Uhlans. The truth was not told to them, for we thought
it best that no news, or false news, should get about as to where the
Emperor was, so that Count Stein still believed that he was within a few
yards of making that tremendous capture. "You may well love and honour
your Emperor," said he, "for such a horseman and such a swordsman I have
never seen." He could not understand why the young colonel of Hussars
laughed so heartily at his words--but he has learned since.

VIII. The Last Adventure of the Brigadier

I will tell you no more stories, my dear friends. It is said that man is
like the hare, which runs in a circle and comes back to die at the point
from which it started.

Gascony has been calling to me of late. I see the blue Garonne winding
among the vineyards and the bluer ocean toward which its waters sweep.
I see the old town also, and the bristle of masts from the side of the
long stone quay. My heart hungers for the breath of my native air and
the warm glow of my native sun.

Here in Paris are my friends, my occupations, my pleasures. There all
who have known me are in their grave. And yet th