But the strange part of it is that this gallant gentleman did this hateful thing, and made himself the most unpopular man in the Peninsula, without ever knowing that he had done a crime for which there is hardly a name amid all the resources of our language.  He died of old age, and never once in that imperturbable self-confidence which adorned or disfigured his character knew that so many thousand Englishmen would gladly have hanged him with their own hands.  On the contrary, he numbered this adventure among those other exploits which he has given to the world, and many a time he chuckled and hugged himself as he narrated it to the eager circle who gathered round him in that humble cafe where, between his dinner and his dominoes, he would tell, amid tears and laughter, of that inconceivable Napoleonic past when France, like an angel of wrath, rose up, splendid and terrible, before a cowering continent.  Let us listen to him as he tells the story in his own way and from his own point of view.

You must know, my friends, said he, that it was towards the end of the year eighteen hundred and ten that I and Massena and the others pushed Wellington backwards until we had hoped to drive him and his army into the Tagus.  But when we were still twenty-five miles from Lisbon we found that we were betrayed, for what had this Englishman done but build an enormous line of works and forts at a place called Torres Vedras, so that even we were unable to get through them!  They lay across the whole Peninsula, and our army was so far from home that we did not dare to risk a reverse, and we had already learned at Busaco that it was no child’s play to fight against these people.  What could we do, then, but sit down in front of these lines and blockade them to the best of our power?  There we remained for six months, amid such anxieties that Massena said afterwards that he had not one hair which was not white upon his body.  For my own part, I did not worry much about our situation, but I looked after our horses, who were in great need of rest and green fodder.  For the rest, we drank the wine of the country and passed the time as best we might.  There was a lady at Santarem—­but my lips are sealed.  It is the part of a gallant man to say nothing, though he may indicate that he could say a great deal.

One day Massena sent for me, and I found him in his tent with a great plan pinned upon the table.  He looked at me in silence with that single piercing eye of his, and I felt by his expression that the matter was serious.  He was nervous and ill at ease, but my bearing seemed to reassure him.  It is good to be in contact with brave men.

“Colonel Etienne Gerard,” said he, “I have always heard that you are a very gallant and enterprising officer.”

It was not for me to confirm such a report, and yet it would be folly to deny it, so I clinked my spurs together and saluted.

“You are also an excellent rider.”