THE MILITARY REVIEW
The different troops, assembled for review, were massed on the parade-
ground at Vincennes, facing the tribunes.
In the centre, the artillery brigade, surrounded by two divisions of
infantry, was drawn up in two straight columns, connected by regiments;
each division of infantry, in double columns, was connected by brigades.
These six columns were separated by spaces varying from twenty to twenty-
five metres.
In the background, the cavalry division was lined up in columns; behind
that was its artillery, in the same order of formation.
At a given signal, the troops advanced five hundred metres, and, as soon
as they halted, drums, clarinets and trumpets beat and sounded from all
parts of the field, saluting the arrival of the military governor of
Paris.
This functionary, followed by his staff, in the midst of which group
glittered the brilliant Russian uniform of the aide-decamp General
Leniaeff, rode slowly past the front and the flanks of the massed body,
the troops facing to the left or the right as he passed.
This inspection finished, he took up his stand before the pillars at the
entrance, and the march past began by battalions en masse, in the midst
of the acclamations of numerous spectators who had come to witness this
imposing display, well calculated to stir patriotic pride.
The enthusiasm increased; the Prerolles division marched past after its
artillery, and, as always, the martial and distinguished profile of its
general produced its usual effect on the public.
He rode Aida, his favorite mare, an Irish sorrel of powerful frame, with
solid limbs, whose horizontal crupper and long tail indicated her race;
she was one of those animals that are calm and lively at the same time,
capable of going anywhere and of passing through all sorts of trials.
After its parade, the infantry, whose part in the affair was finished,
retraced their steps and took up a position on the other side of the
field of manoeuvres, facing the north, and in front of rising ground, in
preparation for the discharge of musketry.
During this time the artillery brigade, re-formed in battle array on the
parade-ground, detached six batteries, which advanced at a trot to within
one hundred and fifty metres of the tribunes, where they discharged a
volley. The long pieces were run rapidly to right and left, unmasking
the cavalry, which, after a similar volley from its own batteries,
appeared behind them in battle order, and executed a galloping march, its
third line held in reserve.
A few moments later all the troops rejoined the infantry on the ground
set apart for rest and for the purpose of partaking of a cold repast,
consisting of potted meats, with which each man was furnished.
Nothing more picturesque could be imagined than this temporary camp, with
its stacked arms, knapsacks lying on the ground, holes dug in the ground
in which to kindle fires, and the clattering of cans. On the other side
of the field the artillerymen and cavalrymen ate, holding their reins
under their arms, while their officers stood around some temporary table,
served by canteen men of the united divisions. Tiny columns of blue
smoke rose where coffee was making, and everywhere were the swift
movement and sprightly good-fellowship in which the soldier feels himself
in his natural element.
The curious spectators crowded themselves in front of the banner, while
in the centre of the square the military governor of Paris, and the other
officers, talked with some privileged persons who had been able to
present themselves among them.
Descending from his mount a little apart from the group, and plunged in
thought, the former sub-lieutenant of 'chasseurs a pied' gazed at the old
fortress, the sight of which recalled so many sad memories.
Vincennes had been his first garrison, and its proximity to Paris had
been disastrous for him. There he had entered one morning, stripped of
his fortune!
And what a series of disasters had followed! But for his heavy losses
upon that fatal night, he would not have been compelled to sell
Prerolles, the income of which, during his long absence, would have
sufficed to lessen the tax on the land, transmissible, had events turned
out otherwise, to some heir to his name. If only fate had not made Paul
Landry cross his path!
"Good morning, General!" came the sound of a fresh, gay voice behind,
which sent a thrill through him.
He turned and saw Zibeline, who had just stopped a few steps distant from
him, sitting in her carriage, to which was harnessed a pretty pair of
cobs, prancing and champing their bits.
"Ah, it is you, Mademoiselle!" he said, carrying his hand to the visor
of his kepi, fastened under his chin.
"I found your card last night," said Zibeline, "and I have come here this
morning to return your call!"
Then, leaning back in her driving-seat in order to reveal Edmond Delorme
installed beside her, she added:
"I have brought also my painter-in-ordinary. We have watched the review
together, and he is as enthusiastic as I over the picturesque effect of
this improvised bivouac. See! He is so much occupied with his sketch
that I can not get a word out of him."
It was Aida, whose bridle was held by a dragoon, that served as a model
for the artist's pencil.
"Will you permit me?" he said to Henri.
"It appears decidedly, that my mare has caught your eye," replied the
General, approaching the carriage and resting his spurred foot on its
step.
"She has superb lines," said the painter, without interrupting his
drawing.
"Well, I am curious to know whether she could beat Seaman," said
Zibeline. "Are you willing to run a race with me, General?"
"As you please--some morning when you return to the Bois."
"You noticed my absence, then?"
"I assure you that I did," Henri replied, earnestly.
Then, fearing that he had said too much, he added:
"I, and many others!"
"Good! You were almost making a pretty speech to me, but, as usual, the
disavowal was not slow in coming. Fortunately, here comes your friend
Lenaieff, who is hastening to make amends to me."
"What good fortune to meet you here, Mademoiselle!" cried Constantin,
who, having perceived Valentine from a distance, had taken an abrupt
leave of his general-in-chief.
"I know that you have called to see me several times," said she, "but I
was in the country."
"So early in the month of April?"
"Oh! not to live there. Monsieur de Perolles knows that I have promised
to build our Orphan Asylum at a certain distance from Paris, and hardly
three weeks remain to me before I must hand over the property. If I am
not ready on the day appointed, Monsieur Desvanneaux will be sure to
seize my furniture, and I could not invite you any more to dinner,
Messieurs! A propos, General, Monsieur de Samoreau has failed in his
negotiations. Mademoiselle Gontier refuses to come to recite at my next
soiree!"
"What necessity is there for you to make her acquaintance?" demanded
Henri.
"Ah, that is my secret!"
During this conversation a hired fiacre, well appointed, had stopped
beside the road, and Eugenie Gontier descended from it, inquiring of an
officer belonging to the grounds where she could find General de
Prerolles. When the officer had pointed out the General to her, she
started to walk toward him; but, on seeing her former lover leaning
familiarly against the door of Zibeline's carriage, she immediately
retraced her steps and quickly reentered her own.
"There is no longer any doubt about it!" said Mademoiselle de Vermont,
who had been observing Eugenie's movements. "Mademoiselle Gontier has
made a fixed resolution to avoid meeting me."
"That is because she is jealous of you!" said Lenaieff naively.
"Jealous? And why?" said Zibeline, blushing.
Visibly embarrassed, Henri drew out his watch in order to avert his
countenance.
"Midday!" he cried. "This is the hour for the return of the troops to
their barracks. You would do well not to delay in starting for home,
Mademoiselle. The roads will be very crowded, and your horses will not
be able to trot. I beg your pardon for taking away your model, my dear
Delorme, but I really must be off."
"It is all the same to me; I have finished my sketch," said the painter,
closing his portfolio.
At this moment, as the military governor passed near them, on his way to
the crossway of the Pyramid, Henri made a movement as if to rejoin him.
"Do not disturb yourself, General de Prerolles," said the military
governor. "The compliments which I have made you on the fine appearance
of your troops are probably not so agreeable to you as those to which you
are listening at present!"
And saluting Mademoiselle de Vermont courteously, he went his way.
"Now you are free, Henri. Suppose we accompany Mademoiselle back to
Paris?" suggested Lenaieff, seeming to read his friend's mind.
"What an honor for me!" Valentine exclaimed.
The General made a sign to his orderly, who approached to receive his
instructions.
"Tell the brigadier-generals that I am about to depart. I need no more
escort than two cavalrymen for General Lenaieff and myself. Now I am
ready, Mademoiselle," Henri continued, turning toward Valentine. "If you
will be guided by me, we should do well to reach the fortifications by
way of the Lake of Saint-Mande."
She made a little sound with her tongue, and the two cobs set off in the
direction indicated, the crowds they passed stopping to admire their high
action, and asking one another who was that pretty woman who was escorted
by two generals, the one French, the other a foreigner.
"I must look like a treaty of peace in a Franco-Russian alliance!" said
Zibeline, gayly.
The sun shone brightly, the new leaves were quivering on the trees, the
breeze bore to the ear the echo of the military bands.
Animated by the sound, the two cobs went ahead at a great pace, but they
were kept well in hand by their mistress, who was dressed this morning in
a simple navy-blue costume, with a small, oval, felt hat, ornamented with
two white wings, set on in a manner that made the wearer resemble a
valkyrie. Her whip, an unnecessary accessory, lay across the seat at her
right, on which side of the carriage Henri rode.
The General's eyes missed none of the graceful movements of the young
girl. And his reflections regarding her, recently interrupted, returned
in full force, augmenting still more his regret at the inexorable fate
that separated him from her. "What a pity!" he thought in his turn,
repeating unconsciously the phrase so often uttered by his sister.
Arrived at the Place du Tr&ne, Valentine stopped her horses a moment, and
addressed her two cavaliers:
"I thank you for your escort, gentlemen. But however high may be your
rank, I really can not go through Paris looking like a prisoner between
two gendarmes! So good-by! I shall see you this evening perhaps, but
good-by for the present."
They gave her a military salute, and the carriage disappeared in the
Faubourg St. Antoine, while the two horsemen followed the line of the
quays along the Boulevard Diderot.