When I reached the quarters of the état-major, I found the great
courtyard of the ‘hotel’ crowded with soldiers of every rank and arm of
the service. Some were newly joined recruits waiting for the orders
to be forwarded to their respective regiments, some were invalids
just issued from the hospital, some were sick and wounded on their way
homeward. There were sergeants with their billet-rolls, and returns, and
court-martial sentences. Adjutants with regimental documents hastening
hither and thither. Mounted orderlies, too, continually came and went;
all was bustle, movement, and confusion. Officers in staff uniforms
called out the orders from the different windows, and despatches were
sent off here and there with hot haste. The building was the ancient
palace of the Dukes of Lorraine, and a splendid fountain of white marble
in the centre of the _cour_, still showed the proud armorial bearings of
that princely house. Around the sculptured base of this now were seated
groups of soldiers, their war-worn looks and piled arms contrasting
strangely enough with the great porcelain vases of flowering plants that
still decorated the rich plateau. Shakos, helmets, and greatcoats were
hung upon the orange-trees. The heavy boots of the cuirassier, the white
leather apron of the sapeur, were drying along the marble benches of the
terrace. The richly traceried veining of gilt iron-work, which separated
the court from the garden, was actually covered with belts, swords,
bayonets, and horse-gear, in every stage and process of cleaning. Within
the garden itself, however, all was silent and still--two sentries, who
paced backwards and forwards beneath the grille, showing that the spot
was to be respected by those whose careless gestures and reckless air
betrayed how little influence the mere ‘genius of the place’ would
exercise over them.
To me the interest of everything was increasing; and whether I lingered
to listen to the raw remarks of the new recruit, in wonder at all he
saw, or stopped to hear the campaigning stories of the old soldiers
of the army, I never wearied. Few, if any, knew whither they were
going--perhaps to the north to join the army of the Sambre; perhaps
to the east to the force upon the Rhine. It might be that they were
destined for Italy--none cared! Meanwhile, at every moment, detachments
moved off, and their places were filled by fresh arrivals--all dusty and
wayworn from the march. Some had scarcely time to eat a hurried morsel,
when they were called on to ‘fall in,’ and again the word ‘forward’ was
given. Such of the infantry as appeared too weary for the march were
sent on in great charrettes drawn by six or eight horses, and capable of
carrying forty men in each; and of these there seemed to be no end. No
sooner was one detachment away than another succeeded. Whatever their
destination, one thing seemed evident, the urgency that called them was
beyond the common. For a while I forgot all about myself in the greater
interest of the scene; but then came the thought that I too should have
my share in this onward movement, and now I set out to seek for my young
friend, the sous-lieutenant. I had not asked his name, but his regiment
I knew to be the 22nd Chasseurs à cheval. The uniform was light green,
and easily enough to be recognised; yet nowhere was it to be seen.
There were cuirassiers, and hussars, heavy dragoons, and carabiniers in
abundance--everything, in short, but what I sought.
At last I asked of an old quartermaster where the 22nd were quartered,
and heard, to my utter dismay, that they had marched that morning at
eight o’clock. There were two more squadrons expected to arrive at noon,
but the orders were that they were to proceed without further halt.
‘And whither to,’ asked I.
‘To Treves, on the Moselle,’ said he, and turned away as if he would not
be questioned further. It was true that my young friend could not have
been much of a patron, yet the loss of him was deeply felt by me. He was
to have introduced me to his colonel, who probably might have obtained
the leave I desired at once; and now I knew no one, not one even to
advise me how to act. I sat down upon a bench to think, but could
resolve on nothing; the very sight of that busy scene had now become a
reproach to me. There were the veterans of a hundred battles hastening
forward again to the field; there were the young soldiers just flushed
with recent victory; even the peasant boys were ‘eager for the fray’;
but I alone was to have no part in the coming glory. The enthusiasm of
all around only served to increase and deepen my depression. There was
not one there, from the old and war-worn veteran of the ranks to the
merest boy, with whom I would not gladly have exchanged fortunes. Some
hours passed over in these gloomy reveries, and when I looked up from
the stupor my own thoughts had thrown over me, the _cour_ was almost
empty. A few sick soldiers, waiting for their billets of leave, a few
recruits not yet named to any corps, and a stray orderly or two standing
beside his horse, were all that remained.
I arose to go away, but in my preoccupation of mind, instead of turning
toward the street, I passed beneath a large archway into another court
of the building, somewhat smaller, but much richer in decoration and
ornament than the outer one. After spending some time admiring the
quaint devices and grim heads which peeped out from all the architraves
and friezes, my eye was caught by a low, arched doorway, in the middle
of which was a small railed window, like the grille of a convent. I
approached, and perceived that it led into a garden, by a long, narrow
walk of clipped yew, dense and upright as a wall The trimly raked
gravel, and the smooth surface of the hedge, showed the care bestowed
on the grounds to be a wide contrast to the neglect exhibited in the
mansion itself; a narrow border of hyacinths and carnations ran along
either side of the walk, the gorgeous blossoms appearing in strong
relief against the background of dark foliage.
The door, as I leaned against it, gently yielded to the pressure of my
arm, and almost without knowing it, I found myself standing within the
precincts of the garden. My first impulse, of course, was to retire and
close the door again, but somehow, I never knew exactly why, I could not
resist the desire to see a little more of a scene so tempting. There was
no mark of footsteps on the gravel, and I thought it likely the garden
was empty. On I went, therefore, at first with cautious and uncertain
steps, at last with more confidence, for as I issued from the
hedge-walk, and reached an open space beyond, the solitude seemed
unbroken. Fruit-trees, loaded with blossom, stood in a closely shaven
lawn, through which a small stream meandered, its banks planted with
daffodils and water-lilies. Some pheasants moved about through the
grass, but without alarm at my presence; while a young fawn boldly came
over to me, and although in seeming disappointment at not finding an old
friend, continued to walk beside me as I went.
The grounds appeared of great extent: paths led off in every direction;
and while, in some places, I could perceive the glittering roof and
sides of a conservatory, in others the humble culture of a vegetable
garden was to be seen. There was a wondrous fascination in the calm and
tranquil solitude around; and coming, as it did, so immediately after
the busy bustle of the ‘soldiering,’ I soon not only forgot that I was
an intruder there, but suffered myself to wander ‘fancy free,’ following
out the thoughts each object suggested. I believe at that moment, if the
choice were given me, I would rather have been the ‘Adam of that Eden’
than the proudest of those generals that ever led a column to victory!
Fortunately, or unfortunately--it would not be easy to decide which--the
alternative was not open to me. It was while I was still musing, I found
myself at the foot of a little eminence, on which stood a tower whose
height and position showed it had been built for the view it afforded
over a vast tract of country. Even from where I stood, at its base, I
could see over miles and miles of a great plain, with the main roads
leading towards the north and eastward. This spot was also the boundary
of the grounds, and a portion of the old boulevard of the town formed
the defence against the open country beyond. It was a deep ditch, with
sides of sloping sward, cropped neatly, and kept in trimmest order, but,
from its depth and width, forming a fence of a formidable kind. I was
peering cautiously down into the abyss, when I heard a voice so close to
my ear that I started with surprise. I listened, and perceived that the
speaker was directly above me, and leaning over the battlements at the
top of the tower.
‘You’re quite right,’ cried he, as he adjusted a telescope to his eye,
and directed his view towards the plain. ‘He has gone wrong! He has
taken the Strasbourg road, instead of the northern one.’
An exclamation of anger followed these words; and now I saw the
telescope passed to another hand, and, to my astonishment, that of a
lady.
‘Was there ever stupidity like that? He saw the map like the others, and
yet---- _Parbleu!_ it’s too bad!’
I could perceive that a female voice made some rejoinder, but did not
distinguish the words; when the man again spoke--
‘No, no; it’s all a blunder of that old major; and here am I without an
orderly to send after him. _Diable!_ it is provoking.’
‘Isn’t that one of your people at the foot of the tower?’ said the lady,
as she pointed to where I stood, praying for the earth to open and close
over me; for, as he moved his head to look down, I saw the epaulettes of
a staff-officer.
‘Holloa!’ cried he, ‘are you on duty?’
‘No, sir; I was----’
Not waiting for me to finish an explanation, he went on--
‘Follow that division of cavalry that has taken the Strasbourg road, and
tell Major Roquelard that he has gone wrong; he should have turned off
to the left at the suburbs. Lose no time, but away at once. You are
mounted, of course?’
‘No, sir, my horse is at quarters; but I can----’
‘No, no; it will be too late,’ he broke in again. ‘Take my troop-horse,
and be off. You’ll find him in the stable to your left.’
Then turning to the lady I heard him say--
‘It may save Roquelard from an arrest.’
I did not wait for more, but hurried off in the direction he had
pointed. A short gravel walk brought me in front of a low building, in
the cottage style, but which, decorated with emblems of the chase, I
guessed to be the stable. Not a groom was to be seen; but the door being
unlatched I entered freely. Four large and handsome horses were feeding
at the racks, their glossy coats and long silken manes showing the care
bestowed upon them. Which is the trooper? thought I, as I surveyed them
all with keen and scrutinising eye. All my skill in such matters
was unable to decide the point; they seemed all alike valuable and
handsome--in equally high condition, and exhibiting equal marks of
careful treatment. Two were stamped on the haunches with the letters ‘R.
F.’; and these, of course, were cavalry horses. One was a powerful black
horse, whose strong quarters and deep chest bespoke great action, while
the backward glances of his eye indicated the temper of a ‘tartar.’
Making choice of him without an instant’s hesitation, I threw on the
saddle, adjusted the stirrups to my own length, buckled the bridle, and
led him forth. In all my ‘school experience’ I had never seen an animal
that pleased me so much; his well-arched neck and slightly dipped back
showed that an Arab cross had mingled with the stronger qualities of the
Norman horse. I sprang to my saddle with delight; to be astride such a
beast was to kindle up all the enthusiasm of my nature; and as I grasped
the reins, and urged him forward, I was half wild with excitement.
Apparently the animal was accustomed to more gentle treatment, for he
gave a loud snort, such as a surprised or frightened horse will give,
and then bounded forward once or twice, as if to dismount me. This
failing, he reared up perfectly straight, pawing madly, and threatening
even to fall backwards. I saw that I had, indeed, selected a wicked one;
for in every bound and spring, in every curvet and leap, the object was
clearly to unseat the rider. At one instant he would crouch, as if to
lie down, and then bound up several feet in the air, with a toss up
of his haunches that almost sent me over the head. At another he would
spring from side to side, writhing and twisting like a fish, till the
saddle seemed actually slipping away from his lithe body. Not only did
I resist all these attacks, but vigorously continued to punish with whip
and spur the entire time--a proceeding, I could easily see, he was not
prepared for. At last, actually maddened with his inability to throw
me, and enraged by my continuing to spur him, he broke away, and
dashing headlong forward, rushed into the very thickest of the grove.
Fortunately for me, the trees were either shrubs or of stunted growth,
so that I had only to keep my saddle to escape danger; but suddenly
emerging from this, he gained the open sward, and as if his passion
became more furious as he indulged in it, he threw up his head, and
struck out in full gallop. I had but time to see that he was heading for
the great fosse of the boulevard, when we were already on its brink. A
shout, and a cry of I know not what, came from the tower; but I heard
nothing more. Mad as the maddened animal himself, perhaps at that moment
just as indifferent to life, I dashed the spurs into his flanks, and
oyer we went, lighting on the green sward as easily as a seagull on a
wave. To all seeming, the terrible leap had somewhat sobered him; but
on me it had produced the very opposite effect. I felt that I had gained
the mastery, and resolved to use it. With unrelenting punishment, then,
I rode him forward, taking the country as it lay straight before me. The
few fences which divided the great fields were too insignificant to be
called leaps, and he took them in the ‘sling’ of his stretching gallop.
He was now subdued, yielding to every turn of my wrist, and obeying
every motive of my will like an instinct. It may read like a petty
victory; but he who has ever experienced the triumph over an enraged
and powerful horse, well knows that few sensations are more pleasurably
exciting. High as is the excitement of being borne along in full speed,
leaving village and spire, glen and river, bridge and mill behind
you--now careering up the mountain-side, with the fresh breeze upon
your brow; now diving into the dark forest, startling the hare from
her cover, and sending the wild deer scampering before you--it is still
increased by the sense of a victory; by feeling that the mastery is with
you, and that each bound of the noble beast beneath you has its impulse
in your own heart.
Although the cavalry squadrons I was despatched to overtake had quitted
Nancy four hours before, I came up with them in less than an hour,
and inquiring for the officer in command, rode up to the head of the
division. He was a thin, gaunt-looking, stern-featured man, who listened
to my message without changing a muscle.
‘Who sent you with this order?’ said he.
‘A general officer, sir, whose name I don’t know, but who told me to
take his own horse and follow you.’
‘Did he tell you to kill the animal, sir?’ said he, pointing to the
heaving flanks and shaking tail of the exhausted beast.
‘He bolted with me at first, major, and having cleared the ditch of the
boulevard, rode away with me.’
‘Why, it’s Colonel Mahon’s Arab, Aleppo,’ said another officer; ‘what
could have persuaded him to mount an orderly on a beast worth ten
thousand francs?’
I thought I’d have fainted, as I heard these words; the whole
consequences of my act revealed themselves before me, and I saw arrest,
trial, sentence, imprisonment, and Heaven knew what afterwards, like a
panorama rolling out to my view.
‘Tell the colonel, sir,’ said the major, ‘that I have taken the north
road, intending to cross over at Beaumont; that the artillery trains
have cut up the Metz road so deeply, cavalry cannot travel; tell him I
thank him much for his politeness in forwarding this despatch to me; and
tell him, that I regret the rules of active service should prevent my
sending back an escort to place yourself under arrest for the manner in
which you have ridden--you hear, sir?’
I touched my cap in salute.
‘Are you certain, sir, that you have my answer correctly?’
‘I am, sir.’
‘Repeat it, then.’
I repeated the reply, word for word, as he spoke it.
‘No, sir,’ said he as I concluded; ‘I said for unsoldier-like and cruel
treatment to your horse.’
One of his officers whispered something in his ear, and he quietly
added--
‘I find that I had not used these words, but I ought to have done so;
give the message, therefore, as you heard it at first.’
‘Mahon will shoot him, to a certainty,’ muttered one of the captains.
‘I’d not blame him,’ joined another; ‘that horse saved his life at
Quiberon, when he fell in with a patrol; and look at him now!’
The major made a sign for me to retire, and I turned and set ont towards
Nancy, with the feelings of a convict on the way to his fate.
If I did not feel that these brief records of a humble career were
‘upon honour,’ and that the only useful lesson a life so unimportant can
teach, is the conflict between opposing influences, I might possibly
be disposed to blink the avowal, that, as I rode along towards Nancy, a
very great doubt occurred to me as to whether I ought not to desert!
It is a very ignoble expression; but it must out. There were not in
the French service any of those ignominious punishments which, once
undergone, a man is dishonoured for ever, and no more admissible to rank
with men of character than if convicted of actual crime; but there were
marks of degradation, almost as severe, then in vogue, and which men
dreaded with a fear nearly as acute--such, for instance, as being
ordered for service at the Bagne de Brest, in Toulon--the arduous duty
of guarding the galley-slaves, and which was scarcely a degree above the
condition of the condemned themselves. Than such a fate as this, I
would willingly have preferred death. It was, then, this thought that
suggested desertion; but I soon rejected the unworthy temptation, and
held on my way towards Nancy.
Aleppo, if at first wearied by the severe burst, soon rallied, while he
showed no traces of his fiery temper, and exhibited few of fatigue; and
as I walked along at his side, washing his mouth and nostrils at each
fountain I passed, and slackening his saddle-girths to give him freedom,
long before we arrived at the suburbs he had regained all his looks and
much of his spirit.
At last we entered Nancy about nightfall, and, with a failing heart, I
found myself at the gate of the ducal palace. The sentries suffered me
to pass unmolested, and entering, I took my way through the courtyard,
towards the small gate of the garden, which, as I had left it, was
unlatched.
It was strange enough, the nearer I drew towards the eventful moment of
my fate, the more resolute and composed my heart became. It is possible,
thought I, that in a fit of passion he will send a ball through me, as
the officer said. Be it so--the matter is the sooner ended. If, however,
he will condescend to listen to my explanation, I may be able to assert
my innocence, at least so far as intention went. With this comforting
conclusion, I descended at the stable door. Two dragoons in undress were
smoking, as they lay at full length upon a bench, and speedily arose as
I came up.
‘Tell the colonel he’s come, Jacques,’ said one, in a loud voice, and
the other retired; while the speaker, turning towards me, took the
bridle from my hand, and led the animal in, without vouchsafing a word
to me.
‘An active beast that,’ said I, affecting the easiest and coolest
indifference. The soldier gave me a look of undisguised amazement, and I
continued--
‘He has had a bad hand on him, I should say--some one too flurried and
too fidgety to give confidence to a hot-tempered horse.’
Another stare was all the reply.
‘In a little time, and with a little patience, I’d make him as gentle as
a lamb.’
‘I’m afraid you’ll not have the opportunity,’ replied he significantly;
‘but the colonel, I see, is waiting for you, and you can discuss the
matter together.’
The other dragoon had just then returned, and made me a sign to follow
him. A few paces brought us to the door of a small pavilion, at which a
sentry stood; and having motioned to me to pass in, my guide left me.
An orderly sergeant at the same instant appeared, and beckoning to me to
advance, he drew aside a curtain, and pushing me forward, let the heavy
folds close behind me; and now I found myself in a richly furnished
chamber, at the farther end of which an officer was at supper with a
young and handsome woman. The profusion of wax-lights on the table--the
glitter of plate, and glass, and porcelain--the richness of the lady’s
dress, which seemed like the costume of a ball--were all objects
distracting enough, but they could not turn me from the thought of my
own condition; and I stood motionless, while the officer, a man of about
fifty, with dark and stern features, deliberately scanned me from head
to foot. Not a word did he speak, not a gesture did he make, but sat,
with his black eyes actually piercing me. I would have given anything
for some outbreak of anger, some burst of passion, that would have put
an end to this horrible suspense, but none came; and there he remained
several minutes, as if contemplating something too new and strange for
utterance. ‘This must have an end,’ thought I--‘here goes’; and so, with
my hand in salute, I drew myself full up, and said--
‘I carried your orders, sir, and received for answer that Major
Roquelard had taken the north road advisedly, as that by Beaumont was
cut up by the artillery trains; that he would cross over to the Metz
Chaussée as soon as possible; that he thanked you for the kindness of
your warning, and regretted that the rules of active service precluded
his despatching an escort of arrest along with me, for the manner in
which I had ridden with the order.’
‘Anything more?’ asked the colonel, in a voice that sounded thick and
guttural with passion.
‘Nothing more, sir.’
‘No further remark or observation?’ ‘None, sir--at least from the
major.’
‘What then--from any other?’
‘A captain, sir, whose name I do not know, did say something.’
‘What was it?’
‘I forget the precise words, sir, but their purport was, that Colonel
Mahon would certainly shoot me when I got back.’
‘And you replied?’
‘I don’t believe I made any reply at the time, sir.’
‘But you thought, sir--what were your thoughts?’
‘I thought it very like what I’d have done myself in a like case,
although certain to be sorry for it afterwards.’
Whether the emotion had been one for some time previous restrained, or
that my last words had provoked it suddenly, I cannot tell, but the lady
here burst out into a fit of laughter, but which was as suddenly checked
by some sharp observation of the colonel, whose stern features grew
sterner and darker every moment.
‘There we differ, sir,’ said he, ‘for I should not’ At the same
instant he pushed his plate away, to make room on the table for a small
portfolio, opening which, he prepared to write.
‘You will bring this paper,’ continued he, ‘to the provost-marshal.
To-morrow morning you shall be tried by a regimental court-martial, and
as your sentence may probably be the galleys and hard labour----’
‘I ‘ll save them the trouble,’ said I, quietly drawing my sword; but
scarcely was it clear of the scabbard when a shriek broke from the lady,
who possibly knew not the object of my act; at the same instant the
colonel bounded across the chamber, and striking me a severe blow upon
the arm, dashed the weapon from my hand to the ground.
‘You want the fusillade--is that what you want?’ cried he, as, in a
towering fit of passion, he dragged me forward to the light. I was now
standing close to the table; the lady raised her eyes towards me, and
at once broke out into a burst of laughter--such hearty, merry laughter,
that, even with the fear of death before me, I could almost have joined
in it.
‘What is it--what do you mean, Laure?’ cried the colonel angrily.
‘Don’t you see it?’ said she, still holding her kerchief to her
face--‘can’t you perceive it yourself? He has only one moustache!’
I turned hastily towards the mirror beside me, and there was the fatal
fact revealed--one gallant curl disported proudly over the left cheek,
while the other was left bare.
‘Is the fellow mad--a mountebank?’ said the colonel, whose anger was now
at its white heat.
‘Neither, sir,’ said I, tearing off my remaining moustache, in shame
and passion together. ‘Among my other misfortunes I have that of being
young; and what’s worse, I was ashamed of it; but I begin to see my
error, and know that a man may be old without gaining either in dignity
or temper.’
With a stroke of his closed fist upon the table, the colonel made every
glass and decanter spring from their places, while he uttered an oath
that was only current in the days of that army. ‘This is beyond belief,’
cried he. ‘Come, _gredin_, you have at least had one piece of good
fortune: you’ve fallen precisely into the hands of one who can deal with
you.--Your regiment?’
‘The Ninth Hussars.’
‘Your name?’
‘Tiernay.’
‘Tiernay; that’s not a French name?’
‘Not originally; we were Irish once.’
‘Irish,’ said he, in a different tone from what he had hitherto used.
‘Any relative of a certain Comte Maurice de Tiernay, who once served in
the Royal Guard?’
‘His son, sir.’
‘What--his son! Art certain of this, lad? You remember your mother’s
name then--what was it?’
‘I never knew which was my mother,’ said I. ‘Mademoiselle de la Lasterie
or----’
He did not suffer me to finish, but throwing his arms around my neck,
pressed me to his bosom.
‘You are little Maurice, then,’ said he, ‘the son of my old and valued
comrade! Only think of it, Laure--I was that boy’s godfather.’
Here was a sudden change in my fortunes; nor was it without a great
effort that I could credit the reality of it, as I saw myself seated
between the colonel and his fair companion, both of whom overwhelmed me
with attention.
It turned out that Colonel Mahon had been a fellow-guardsman with my
father, for whom he had ever preserved the warmest attachment. One of
the few survivors of the Garde du Corps, he had taken service with
the Republic, and was already reputed as one of the most distinguished
cavalry officers.
‘Strange enough, Maurice,’ said he to me, ‘there was something in your
look and manner, as you spoke to me there, that recalled your poor
father to my memory; and without knowing or suspecting why, I suffered
you to bandy words with me, while at another moment I would have ordered
you to be ironed and sent to prison.’
Of my mother, of whom I wished much to learn something, he would not
speak, but adroitly changed the conversation to the subject of my own
adventures, and these he made me recount from the beginning. If the lady
enjoyed all the absurdities of my chequered fortune with a keen sense of
the ridiculous, the colonel apparently could trace in them but so many
resemblances to my father’s character, and constantly broke out into
exclamations of ‘How like him!’ ‘Just what he would have done himself!’
‘His own very words! ‘and so on.
It was only in a pause of the conversation, as the clock on the
mantelpiece struck eleven, that I was aware of the lateness of the hour,
and remembered that I should be on the punishment-roll the next morning
for absence from quarters.
‘Never fret about that, Maurice--I ‘ll return your name as on a special
service; and to have the benefit of truth on our side, you shall be
named one of my orderlies, with the grade of corporal.’
‘Why not make him a sous-lieutenant?’ said the lady, in a half-whisper.
‘I’m sure he is better worth his epaulettes than any I have seen on your
staff.’
‘Nay, nay,’ muttered the colonel, ‘the rules of the service forbid it.
He’ll win his spurs time enough, or I ‘m much mistaken.’
While I thanked my new and kind patron for his goodness, I could not
help saying that my heart was eagerly set upon the prospect of actual
service; and that proud as I should be of his protection, I would rather
merit it by my conduct than owe my advancement to favour.
‘Which simply means that you are tired of Nancy, and riding drill, and
want to see how men comport themselves where the manoeuvres are not
arranged beforehand. Well, so far you are right, boy. I shall, in all
likelihood, be stationed here for three or four months, during which
you might have advanced a stage or so towards those epaulettes my fair
friend desires to see upon your shoulders. You shall, therefore, be sent
forward to your own corps. I’ll write to the colonel to confirm the
rank of corporal; the regiment is at present on the Moselle, and, if I
mistake not, will soon be actively employed Come to me to-morrow before
noon, and be prepared to march with the first detachments that are sent
forward.’
A cordial shake of the hand followed these words; and the lady having
also vouchsafed me an equal token of her good-will, I took my leave, the
happiest fellow that ever betook himself to quarters after hours, and as
indifferent to the penalties annexed to the breach of discipline as if
the whole code of martial law were a mere fable.