r,' he say, 'twas to
your drum,' and his eye flash out where Gudin carved his way through
those pigs of Prussians. 'I'd take my head off to keep your saddle
filled, comrade,' say I. Ping! come a bullet and catch me in the calf.
'You hold your head too high, brother,' the general say, and he smile.
'I'll hold it higher,' answer I, and I snatch at a soldier. 'Up with
me on your shoulder, big comrade,' I say, and he lift me up. I make my
sticks sing on the leather. 'You shall take off your hat to the Little
Corporal to-morrow, if you've still your head, brother'--speak Davoust
like that, and then he ride away like the devil to Morand's guns. Ha,
ha, ha!" The sergeant's face was blazing with a white glare, for he was
very pale, and seemed unconscious of all save the scene in his mind's
eye. "Ha, ha, ha!" he laughed again. "Beautiful God, how did Davoust
bring us on up to Sonnenberg! And next day I saw the Little Corporal.
'Drummer,' say he, 'no head's too high for my Guard. Come you, comrade,
your general gives you to me. Come, Corporal Lagroin,' he call; and
I come. 'But, first,' he say, 'up on the shoulder of your big soldier
again, and play.' 'What shall I play, sire?' I ask. 'Play ten thousand
heroes to Walhalla,' he answer. I play, and I think of my brother
Jacques, who went fighting to heaven the day before. Beautiful God! that
was a day at Auerstadt."

"Soldier," said Valmond, waving his hand, "step on. There is a drum at
Louis Quinze. Let us go together, comrade."

The old sergeant was in a dream. He wheeled, the crowd made way for
him, and at the neck of the white horse he came on with Valmond. As
they passed the carriage of Madame Chalice, Valmond made no sign. They
stopped in front of the hotel, and Valmond, motioning to the garcon,
gave him an order. The old sergeant stood silent, his eyes full fixed
upon Valmond. In a moment the boy came out with the drum. Valmond took
it, and, holding it in his hands, said softly: "Soldier of the Old
Guard, here is a drum of France." Without a word the old man took the
drum, his fingers trembling as he fastened it to his belt. When the
sticks were in his hand, all trembling ceased, and his hands became
steady. He was living in the past entirely.

"Soldier," said Valmond in a loud voice, "remember Austerlitz. The
Heights of Pratzen are before you. Play up the feet of the army."

For an instant the old man did not move, and then a sullen sort of look
came over his face. He w