ature understood how little I feared him, he
would make way for me. I shrugged my shoulders and made a gesture of
contempt. I even whistled. The creature thought I called it, for he
approached with alacrity. I kept my face boldly towards him, but I
walked swiftly backwards. When one is young and active, one can almost
run backwards and yet keep a brave and smiling face to the enemy. As I
ran I menaced the animal with my cane. Perhaps it would have been
wiser had I restrained my spirit. He regarded it as a challenge--which,
indeed, was the last thing in my mind. It was a misunderstanding, but a
fatal one. With a snort he raised his tail and charged.

Have you ever seen a bull charge, my friends? It is a strange sight. You
think, perhaps, that he trots, or even that he gallops. No, it is worse
than this. It is a succession of bounds by which he advances, each more
menacing than the last. I have no fear of anything which man can do.
When I deal with man, I feel that the nobility of my own attitude, the
gallant ease with which I face him, will in itself go far to disarm him.
What he can do, I can do, so why should I fear him? But when it is a ton
of enraged beef with which you contend, it is another matter. You
cannot hope to argue, to soften, to conciliate. There is no resistance
possible. My proud assurance was all wasted upon the creature. In
an instant my ready wit had weighed every possible course, and had
determined that no one, not the Emperor himself, could hold his ground.
There was but one course--to fly.

But one may fly in many ways. One may fly with dignity or one may fly in
panic. I fled, I trust, like a soldier. My bearing was superb though
my legs moved rapidly. My whole appearance was a protest against the
position in which I was placed. I smiled as I ran--the bitter smile of
the brave man who mocks his own fate. Had all my comrades surrounded
the field, they could not have thought the less of me when they saw the
disdain with which I avoided the bull.

But here it is that I must make my confession. When once flight
commences, though it be ever so soldierly, panic follows hard upon it.
Was it not so with the Guard at Waterloo? So it was that night with
Etienne Gerard. After all, there was no one to note my bearing--no one
save this accursed bull. If for a minute I forgot my dignity, who would
be the wiser? Every moment the thunder of the hoofs and the horrible
snorts of the monster drew nearer to my heels