There are none but brigands, _emigres_, and hirelings of England
now remaining in the West.
The army is composed of more than fifty thousand brave men. Let me
speedily hear from them that the rebel chiefs have ceased to live.
Glory is won by toil alone; if it could be had by living in
barracks in a town, all would have it.
Soldiers, whatever be the rank you hold in the army, the gratitude
of the nation awaits you. To be worthy of it, you must brave the
inclemencies of weather, ice, snow, and the excessive coldness of
the nights; you must surprise your enemies at daybreak, and
exterminate those wretches, the disgrace of France.
Make a short and sure campaign; be inexorable to those brigands,
and maintain strict discipline.
National Guards, join the strength of your arms to that of the
line.
If you know among you any men who fraternize with the brigands,
arrest them. Let them find no refuge; pursue them; if traitors
dare to harbor and defend them, let them perish together.
“What a man!” cried Hulot. “It is just as it was in the army of
Italy--he rings in the mass, and he says it himself. Don’t you call that
talking, hey?”
“Yes, but he speaks by himself and in his own name,” said Gerard, who
began to feel alarmed at the possible results of the 18th Brumaire.
“And where’s the harm, since he’s a soldier?” said Merle.
A group of soldiers were clustered at a little distance before the same
proclamation posted on a wall. As none of them could read, they gazed at
it, some with a careless eye, others with curiosity, while two or three
hunted about for a citizen who looked learned enough to read it to them.
“Now you tell us, Clef-des-Coeurs, what that rag of a paper says,” cried
Beau-Pied, in a saucy tone to his comrade.
“Easy to guess,” replied Clef-des-Coeurs.
At these words the other men clustered round the pair, who were always
ready to play their parts.
“Look there,” continued Clef-des-Coeurs, pointing to a coarse
woodcut which headed the proclamation and represented a pair of
compasses,--which had lately superseded the level of 1793. “It means
that the troops--that’s us--are to march firm; don’t you see the
compasses are open, both legs apart?--that’s an emblem.”
“Such much for your learning, my lad; it isn’t an emblem--it’s called
a problem. I’ve served in the artillery,” continued Beau-Pied, “and
problems were meat and drink to my officers.”
“I say it’s an emblem.”
“It’s a problem.”
“What will you bet?”
“Anything.”
“Your German pipe?”
“Done!”
“By your leave, adjutant, isn’t that thing an emblem, and not a
problem?” said Clef-des-Coeurs, following Gerard, who was thoughtfully
walking away.
“It is both,” he replied, gravely.
“The adjutant was making fun of you,” said Beau-Pied. “That paper means
that our general in Italy is promoted Consul, which is a fine grade, and
we are to get shoes and overcoats.”