found him—poor creature, left still by his parents in this baby
school—standing in the playground with his cap on one side and his hands
in his pockets. I stared at him from head to foot, and asked him if he
had any remark to make about my coat, my trousers, my neck-tie, or any
part of my dress. And I inquired if he was sure that he wouldn’t like to
come into a corner with me and learn how they fought at college? He
stared at me with frightened eyes, declined my offer, and rushed into
the schoolroom, where he locked himself in, screaming as loud as he
could. As for Brideau, I called him any nickname I chose, and he dared
not say anything. But alas! I was puffed up with pride and vanity! I
used to look at myself in the glass with admiration and respect, and
murmur to myself the words, “Bravest of the brave!” But everything has a
reverse side: the “Bravest of the brave” unfortunately had his ears one
day well pulled by a footman whose afternoon nap he disturbed by ringing
a large bell close to his head. The “Bravest of the brave” one day had a
dispute with a cur in the street whose temper was more imperfect than
his teeth, the consequence of which was that the brave one’s trowsers
were shortened on one leg by a foot, and his mamma had to sit up half
the night repairing the disaster. Seeing which the “Bravest of the
brave” cried himself to sleep under the bed clothes, vowing he would
never disturb street dogs again.
[Illustration:Decoration]
The “Bravest of the brave” did not like Robert Boissot, and lost no
opportunity of contradicting him and of being generally disagreeable to
him, in order to pay off old scores. Alas! the brave one received from
the said Robert Boissot so violent a blow on the top of his nose, that
he was obliged to bury it in his pocket-handkerchief and fly home amid
shouts of derision. The mischief done was very considerable, the
toucan’s beak had been so badly treated that it was obliged to be
wrapped up in as many bandages as a mummy, and it was more than three
weeks before it could be unrolled, and viewed again by the light of day.
When it was again displayed to the eyes of the public it was discovered
to lean over considerably to one side.
They say that Michael-Angelo one day received a blow on the nose from
his friend Torregiani. This knock on the nose changed for ever the
expression of the great man, and made him morose and solitary. The knock
on _my_ nose, given by Robert Boissot, also changed _my_ expression, and
my character. During the time that my nose was recovering itself I had
leisure to reflect. Those reflections changed my ideas upon many
subjects; and made me wiser.
Little by little, I learned to live without running into the extreme of
either cowardice or bullying; and my life passed much as the lives of
other people.
------------------
XLV.
A LAST CHAPTER, WRITTEN BY ANOTHER HAND.
HERE terminate the confessions of a coward as told by himself. But I
will add some details respecting his after life which his own modesty
prevented him from relating. When he says that his “life passed much as
the lives of other people,” he should have added, “like the lives of
those who, first distinguishing themselves at the college of Saint Cyr,
follow a glorious career in the army.”
When sub-lieutenant, Bicquerot was the first to scale the walls of a
certain Arab village, and then received a severe sabre cut which helped
his promotion to lieutenant.
Lieutenant Bicquerot became captain without any wounds, as he was then
with his regiment at Bordeaux, and not near any fighting. As peace
prevailed at that time and he had not seen his parents since he left
Saint Cyr, he got leave; and then might be observed by the worthy
inhabitants of Loches, two Captains Bicquerot walking arm-in-arm about
the streets.
[Illustration:Decoration]
Captain Bicquerot did his duty nobly at the siege of Sebastopol. He was
wounded by a ball, and became insensible; when he regained consciousness
in the hospital he was shown the rosette of the Legion of Honour which
now decorated his buttonhole, and was told that he lost consciousness as
a Captain, but that he awoke to find himself Major.
At the commencement of the Italian campaign Bicquerot was
Lieutenant-Colonel. He was made full Colonel at the battle of Magenta.
He owed this promotion to his extreme courage and presence of mind
displayed upon the occasion. And he was publicly complimented by the
general in command.
On his return to France, Colonel Bicquerot was sent to Tours with his
regiment. He often went over from thence to Loches to see his beloved
mother and father. Captain Bicquerot called his son “the colonel” with
immense pride. His mother did not call him “the colonel,” but how
rejoiced she was when “_her Paul_” came to see her, and on Sunday gave
her his arm to take her to church.
Dr. Lombalot’s mind was greatly disturbed while Colonel Bicquerot lived
at Tours. He would have liked him to live there always for one reason,
and that was because he played chess so admirably, and often had a game
with the worthy doctor. But for the sake of his phrenological theories
the doctor would have liked to see the colonel start for Cochin China.
For after having said that so distinguished an officer was wanting in
the bump of combativeness, how could he talk of the truths of phrenology
again! However, he did talk of them, though in his heart the obstinate
old man could not have believed in them.
At the time when Bicquerot and his friend Marc Sublaine passed that
happy holiday at Bois-Clair, there was a little baby sister of Marc’s
being carried about by her nurse. Miss Marie Sublaine was then cutting
her first teeth. As that young person, at that time of her life, was of
a somewhat misanthropical turn of mind, and passed all her time in the
nursery, it is not to be wondered at, that “the Coward” omitted to
mention her when he recounted his confessions. However, one knows that,
in general, young gentlemen of nine or ten profess the most extreme
contempt for the society of babies; above all, babies that have a habit,
like Miss Marie Sublaine, of crying for nothing, and of scratching and
biting the noses and fingers of their friends.
Nevertheless Miss Marie Sublaine became in time the wife of Colonel
Bicquerot. And a very happy couple they were.
THE END.
BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
● Transcriber’s Notes:
○ Missing or obscured punctuation was corrected.
○ Unbalanced quotation marks were left as the author intended.
○ Typographical errors were silently corrected.
○ Page 116, “Ulysses came up to us at a hand gallop.” was changed to
“Ulysses came up to us at a hard gallop.”
○ Page 138, “as he lived near here I did” was changed to “as he
lived near where I did”.
○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only
when a predominant form was found in this book.
○ Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); text in
bold by “equal” signs (=bold=).