For Love of a Bedouin Maid

CHAPTER III

Towards the end of April in the following year, a trooper rode into the courtyard of the palace. St. Just was standing at the main entrance. The man advanced to meet him and saluted.

"Lieutenant St. Just?" he said inquiringly.

"I am he," replied St. Just.

"I am instructed to deliver this, Lieutenant."

At the same time, he handed a packet to St. Just. Then, once more saluting, the man wheeled his charger round and trotted off.

With trembling hands and his mind strongly agitated, St. Just opened the despatch. His most ardent hopes were fulfilled. The document contained his formal discharge from his present duties and his appointment as aide-de-camp on General Buonaparte's staff. He was instructed to wait on the General at head-quarters for orders at three o'clock that afternoon.

To say that St. Just was overjoyed, would scarcely do justice to his feelings; he was mad with delight, and could scarce contain himself. By way of relief to his emotions, he indulged in a loud hurrah and threw his cap up into the air, for all the world as though he were only a common soldier. Then, recollecting where he was, and the extraordinary figure he must be cutting before his men, he replaced his cap on his head, straightened himself and made his way, as steadily as his exuberance would allow, into the palace, to hand over his command to the sub-lieutenant, preparatory to taking his departure.

With a soldier's regard for punctuality, at the stroke of three he presented himself at General Buonaparte's quarters, and was almost immediately admitted to his presence. The General was standing with his back to St. Just in front of a temporary table supported on trestles, and bending over a large scale map of Egypt and the surrounding country. Other maps and documents were spread about. He had a pair of compasses in his hand, and with it he was taking off the distances between the various places he had marked out as his route. At St. Just's entrance he turned round.

"Ah! Lieutenant," he exclaimed. "You are glad then to go with me to Egypt?"

"So glad, General, and so grateful, that I scarce know how to express my thanks. I—"

"Do not try then," interrupted Buonaparte abruptly; "nor are any due. Your appointment on my staff has not been made from personal motives, but solely in the interests of France, who has need of those of her sons who are distinguished for bravery and promptitude of action. From the circumstances of our introduction, I believe you to possess both. Further, I have made inquiries of General Augereau concerning you, and his report is eminently favorable. Your appointment, therefore, is the consequence of your own merit. But, if you still think any thanks are due to me, let them be expressed by deeds; by obedience, fidelity, courage, coolness and promptness in emergency; in a word, by unswerving devotion to France—and to me."

He shot a piercing glance at St. Just, as though to emphasize his words; a glance so keen and stern that the young officer felt that he trembled under it. But he replied, "General, you shall have no cause to regret your confidence in me. To my country I have dedicated myself body and soul. She possesses my unshared allegiance. I have no father or mother, no brothers or sisters. France stands for all these to me. To make her respected—aye feared—among the nations; to add to her glory, so far as my humble efforts can avail, is my sole ambition. If she demand my life, it shall be willingly laid down."

"Your sentiments do you honor, sir," said Buonaparte. "See that you live up to them. Now go, and make your preparations for departure. Present yourself here at daybreak on the third day from this—the 3rd of May—when we shall march out of Paris. Your horses will be provided for you. Till then, farewell." The General waved his hand towards him in token of dismissal, and St. Just saluted and took his leave.

When the young officer left General Buonaparte, he strode onward with a rapid, springy step, treading on air, as the saying is. At last, he thought, he had his opportunity; his fortune was secured. He was resolute to earn distinction in the career he had adopted; and, with the sanguine exuberance of youth and strength, he already saw himself mounting with nimble steps the successive rungs of the military ladder—Captain, Major, Colonel, Brigadier, General of Division; until he had attained the summit and found himself in command of an army, smiting the enemies of France—perhaps even rivalling the great Captain under whom he was about to serve. Such was the mental vision that gradually unfolded itself to his excited gaze. At this moment he had the most unbounded enthusiasm for the successful general whose marvelous achievements were the theme of Europe; the most absolute devotion to him. Later events will show how far these sentiments were destined to be lasting; for the present they were paramount.

St. Just had few preparations to make; having no near relatives, and being heart whole, there were no painful leavetakings; only a farewell dinner to his friends and intimate brother officers, the payment of a few bills, the purchase of sundry necessary articles, and he was ready.

At daybreak, on the 3rd of May he reported himself at General Buonaparte's headquarters, and, a few hours later, Buonaparte began the march that the great General hoped and believed would result in the adding of the land of the Pharaohs to the possessions of France. The advance guard had already preceded the main body.

The movement of troops through their own country—except when that country is in the partial occupation of the enemy—is seldom fruitful of adventure, and, in the present instance, it was wholly uneventful. St. Just had the opportunity, to a limited degree, of improving his knowledge of Buonaparte, also of becoming acquainted with some of his entourage. To his annoyance, however, almost immediately on their quitting Paris, a feeling of weakness and lassitude began to overtake him, despite his most strenuous efforts to shake it off. Day by day it grew upon him, until, by the time the army had reached Toulon, which they made on the 8th of May, he felt so prostrated as to be almost unfit for duty.

But he fought hard against his weakness; for all that, it was only by the exercise of unflinching determination to conceal how ill he felt, that he was not left behind invalided. He managed to hold up until the 19th of May, when, with Buonaparte, he embarked on board the Admiral's ship, L'Orient. Then, he broke down altogether, and was carried below. The army surgeons pronounced him to be suffering from low fever, and feared the worst. The efforts he had made to hide the real state of his health had aggravated his condition, so that his vitality was at the lowest ebb.

For more than a fortnight he lay oscillating between life and death; then a change for the better set in, and, from that moment, he began rapidly to improve, so that, at the end of another fortnight, he was able to set foot on the quarter deck, and breathe the pure, fresh air of the Mediterranean. Oh! in the relief, after inhaling the stifling atmosphere below deck, to drink in deep draughts of the ozone laden breezes that swept over the broad expanse of water! His spirits revived, and, once more, he felt that he had it in him to emulate his chief.

Wafted by favorable breezes, the gallant fleet sped on its way, until, on the morning of the first of July, the Admiral's ship sighted, in the far distance, the domes and minarets of Alexandria.

So the fleet was headed for the land. After beating along the coast for several hours in the teeth of a rising gale, in search of a suitable landing place, Marabou was selected, and at one o'clock in the morning of the second of July the disembarkation was begun. The spot was three leagues to the west of Alexandria.

The landing was accomplished with great difficulty, caused, not only by the roughness of the sea, but also by the attacks of the Bedouin Arabs, great swarthy fellows, who appeared in swarms. They showed marvelous horsemanship, circling round the French and making repeated dashes upon the right flank, and picking off many stragglers.

At three in the morning the march upon Alexandria began. The divisions of Bon, Kleber, and Morand heading the advance.

At the moment when the order to march was given, Buonaparte, who was mounted on a white horse—one of the six given him in Italy—turned to Kleber, and, pointing upwards to the sky, where a few stars still lingered before the advent of the dawn, as though loth to have their brightness veiled, said, "See yonder stars scintillate in token of our coming success; foretelling glory out of the clouds of trouble."

"Yet," rejoined Kleber, "they must pale before the glory of the rising sun." And he pointed Eastward to where a faint light showed the approaching dawn.

When Buonaparte appeared, the whole army set up a tremendous shout; cheer after cheer went up and, amidst them, the march began that all hoped and believed would result in the conquest of Egypt, but which to thousands of the sons of France meant but their grave.

After some hours marching under a dropping fire of musketry from the Arabs hovering around, and under a blazing sun, they arrived within gunshot of Alexandria. There was only a show of opposition to the French advance, for what took place was more of a skirmish before the gates than a battle. A few shots were fired, and then the Arabs fled into the city, followed by the French, some scaling the walls, and others making their way through gaps where the walls had been broken down, and through the gates.

Soon after their entrance, Buonaparte, who was attended by St. Just and accompanied by an escort of guides, had a near escape of being killed. The party was going along a narrow street, that but just allowed two persons to ride abreast; it was bounded at the end by a tall house. Those within were watching the approach of Buonaparte and his escort, apparently with friendly interest, when, all of a sudden, the party being about a hundred yards from the house, a musket shot was fired from one of the windows, and a bullet carried away the plume of Buonaparte's hat.

Instantly St. Just, followed by a sergeant of the Guides, enraged at the murderous attempt, galloped to the house, threw himself from his horse, scaled a staircase and rushed forward.

Two shots were fired at him by a woman who tried to bar his progress, one passing over his left shoulder and lodging in the arm of the guide behind him. Smarting with the wound, before St. Just could interpose, he cut her down. The other shot went through the metal ornament of St. Just's sabre-tache, and, striking on a button of his tunic, made him think for a moment that he was wounded. The shock made him stagger, and gave others of the Guides, who had followed, the opportunity of rushing past. Their blood was up and they were intent on revenging themselves for the shots fired on their officer and their comrade, and were in no mood to grant quarter. So that, when St. Just came up to them, he had the greatest difficulty in saving the life of a young Arab, who had been knocked down with the butt of a musket and was on the point of being sabered.

At some risk, St. Just interposed his own person, at the same time striking up the sword raised to slay the young man, who was then taken prisoner and bound.

Meantime the other persons in the house, recognizing the futility of attempting a stand, took to their heels with speed, and succeeded in making their escape from the back of the building.

So soon as, after a thorough search, St. Just had satisfied himself that the house was empty, he returned to General Buonaparte with their prisoner.

Buonaparte questioned the young fellow through an interpreter. At first he maintained a sullen silence, but, after a time, when he was reminded that his life had been spared, and was assured that the French had come solely to deliver the people from the tyranny of their rulers, and would reward and protect those who chose to give them information, his reserve and fear began to melt away and he became communicative.

He maintained that it was not he who had fired the shot at General Buonaparte nor, indeed, any shot. It appeared that the house belonged to one Islam Bey, the leader of a corps of Mamelukes. Gaining confidence, the lad went on to warn General Buonaparte against Islam Bey, saying that this Sheik had sworn by the beard of the Prophet to take his life before six months had passed.

In the end, the General not only gave the lad his liberty, but appointed him to be his body servant, and afterwards, took him to Paris. The young fellow became a great favorite with everybody. His name was Ali.

Buonaparte stayed six days in Alexandria, issuing conciliatory edicts to the people and holding many conferences with the chief Sheiks of the city, many of whom had submitted to him. This was on account of the good conduct of the French troops. A few men of the first detachment, doubtless, began to plunder; but, the moment it was discovered such severe punishment was meted out as effectually to check it for the remainder of the French occupation.

On the evening of the third day after the French entry, St. Just received orders to take a detachment of five Guides and a native who knew the track to be traversed, and to start at day-break and make all speed to Damanhour, with despatches for General Dessaix, who was proceeding thither with an advance guard of nearly five thousand men.

CHAPTER IV

At early dawn, therefore, on the morning of the fourth day after Buonaparte's arrival in Alexandria, St. Just and his escort saddled and set out. They were accompanied by some Arabs belonging to a friendly tribe, whose chief was in the city and had offered his services to General Buonaparte. The force was small and both men and horses were picked so that they might ride fast and overtake Dessaix, who was already well on his way to Damanhour. At the last moment they were joined by a young subaltern of infantry in charge of a foraging party sent out in requisition of stores. The stores were to be carried by mules and it was the young subaltern's duty to convoy them and their drivers. St. Just found the young officer, whose name, he ascertained, was Garraud, a pleasant companion; and his men, who were infantry, fraternized with St. Just's troopers, the whole party for the first few miles marching along gayly, whistling and singing and chattering, as French soldiers will; but their chief topic of conversation was the shot that had been fired at the General on his entry into Alexandria. Garraud and his men had not yet been in Alexandria; so he asked St. Just for a full account of the affair; and St. Just gave it him.

As the sun rose higher in the heavens, conversation began to flag, both between the two officers and the men; for, although the march had begun in excellent spirits, the heat of the sun, which would shortly be at its zenith, made talking a fatigue, and movement alone sufficiently exhausting.

The Arabs only, mounted on their trusty ships of the desert, as they are wont to call their camels, seemed to be unconscious of the heat, as well as indifferent to two other evils the French severely felt, namely flies and thirst; to say nothing of the sand, which made marching horribly arduous. "Not good, honest ordinary sand," as an old veteran of Italy exclaimed, "but sand that penetrated through one's shoes and clothes, and made walking painful and tedious."

There was silence now for the most part among them all. It had lasted longer than usual, when St. Just, at last, broke it by inquiring in French of their chief guide how far they were to proceed before they halted. The old man turned his grizzly head round and gazed backwards, as though mentally measuring the distance they had already traversed; then up to the sky, as if seeking inspiration from this source. Finally he said briefly, "A league to the water, then three to the village, where my Masters sleep."

And so they plodded on.

At last, after crawling along in the boiling sun for two hours, they reached one of the stopping places indicated by their guide. There was a small pool of brackish water and there were a number of rocks standing out of the sand nine feet or more, behind which they could shelter themselves from the sun. Here St. Just called a halt. The men dismounted and tethered their horses; then gave them food and water. Afterwards they attended to their own wants and ate and drank. Referring to the water, one of the veterans, with the recollection of the luxuries of sunny Italy before his mind, remarked that one must march through the desert under a burning sun for hours before one would drink from such a hole as that before them; a pool that, in ordinary circumstances, one would not even put one's feet into.

Their inner man refreshed, they rested for a short time, and the Arabs and a few of the French began to smoke. St. Just was among these, for he had picked up this, at that time, uncommon habit from some Gipsies he had come across in Italy.

After an hour's repose, early in the afternoon the little company resumed its march; it was but a repetition of the morning's tramp; more heat, more flies, more sand, with thirst that seemed intensified, rather than appeased, by drinking the tepid, brackish water from the soldiers' water bottles.

By way of contrast, when the sun set, cold cutting winds sprang up that pierced them through.

It was late and quite dark when the party came in sight of the so-called village—a collection of mud-huts—which was to form their resting place for the night.

The advance guard under Dessaix had recently passed through the place, for everywhere there were signs of the presence of the French; but of inhabitants there were none. Worse still, half the huts were dismantled. Many portions of them had been torn away for fire-wood; but one was found after a careful search, large enough to shelter the whole party, with some crowding.

One man was posted as a sentry outside, and relieved every two hours. His duties were not only to give notice of the approach of enemies, but also to keep an eye on the Arab guides, who remained outside and who St. Just felt were not to be trusted.

The night passed without adventure or alarm, and the rest of the men in the hut was unbroken, so that they rose in the early morn in excellent spirits and with bodies refreshed. While the sky was still clothed in its gray mantle, and the sun had scarce given signs of his approach, St. Just and his escort recommenced their march, leaving the young subaltern, Garraud, and his convoy party to make their further way alone.

On the afternoon of the same day, they overtook General Dessaix at Beda. It was fortunate they had started so early as they did; for, otherwise, they would have been overwhelmed in a terrific sandstorm, which spent itself behind them and which they escaped by only one hour.

On handing in his despatches to Dessaix, St. Just received from him a sorry report of his command. Short as had been their stay in the country, the men were always murmuring; the heat, the sand, the flies, the scarcity and badness of the water had made them so discontented that the General had the utmost difficulty in keeping them in hand. They were mutinous, unruly, continually complaining of their lost luxuries. Even the officers complained. After a few days' rest, St. Just set out to return to Buonaparte, who, with the main body of the army, was to have left Alexandria on the 6th. Being anxious to join them with all speed, St. Just decided to travel all night. After marching for some hours and when darkness was setting in, St. Just, to his alarm, was informed by an Arab scout he had sent ahead, but who now rode back, that a large body of desert horsemen was advancing in their direction somewhat to the right of them. This was most unwelcome news. To wheel round and make an effort to escape, St. Just felt would be useless. Their only chance seemed to be to halt and wait until the enemy were close upon them; then to make a dash for it and try to cut their way through, and thus, aided by the darkness, to get clear away.

With this view, St. Just drew up his men as close together as they could stand. This mode of formation surprised the Arab guides, it being the custom of their countrymen to fight in a crescent-shaped wedge, a mode of formation Buonaparte found a strong one, when cavalry is massed in successive crescents one behind another.