The Exploits of Brigadier Gerard

The Exploits of Brigadier Gerard

Arthur Conan Doyle

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The Exploits of

SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

This book is published by arrangement with the Estate of the late Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

1896

BY SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes

The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes

The Return of Sherlock Holmes

His Last Bow

The Hound of the Baskervilles

The Sign of Four

The Valley of Fear

Sir Nigel

The White Company

Micah Clarke

The Refugees

Rodney Stone

Uncle Bernac

Adventures of Gerard

The Exploits of Brigadier Gerard

The Lost World

The Tragedy of the Korosko

OMNIBUS VOLUMES

Great Stories

The Conan Doyle Stories

The Sherlock Holmes Short Stories

The Sherlock Holmes Long Stories

The Historical Romances

The Complete Professor Challenger Stories

The Complete Napoleonic Stories

The Life of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

by John Dickson Carr

The hard weather, and especially the great battle at Eylau, had killed so many of the horses that there was some danger of our beautiful Tenth of Hussars becoming a battalion of light infantry. We knew, therefore, both the Major and I, that we should be very welcome at the front. We did not advance very rapidly, however, for the snow was deep, the roads detestable, and we had but twenty returning invalids to assist us. Besides, it is impossible, when you have a daily change of forage, and sometimes none at all, to move horses faster than a walk. I am aware that in the story-books the cavalry whirls past at the maddest of gallops; but for my own part, after twelve campaigns, I should be very satisfied to know that my brigade could always walk upon the march and trot in the presence of the enemy. This I say of the hussars and chasseurs, mark you, so that it is far more the case with cuirassiers or dragoons.

For myself I am fond of horses, and to have four hundred of them, of every age and shade and character, all under my own hands, was a very great pleasure to me. They were from Pomerania for the most part, though some were from Normandy and some from Alsace, and it amused us to notice that they differed in character as much as the people of those provinces. We observed also, what I have often proved since, that the nature of a horse can be told by his colour, from the coquettish light bay, full of fancies and nerves, to the hardy chestnut, and from the docile roan to the pig-headed rusty-black. All this has nothing in the world to do with my story, but how is an officer of cavalry to get on with his tale when he finds four hundred horses waiting for him at the outset? It is my habit, you see, to talk of that which interests myself and so I hope that I may interest you.

We crossed the Vistula opposite Marienwerder, and had got as far as Riesenberg, when Major Legendre came into my room in the post-house with an open paper in his hand.

'You are to leave me,' said he, with despair upon his face.

It was no very great grief to me to do that, for he was, if I may say so, hardly worthy to have such a subaltern. I saluted, however, in silence.

'It is an order from General Lasalle,' he continued; 'you are to proceed to Rossel instantly, and to report yourself at the headquarters of the regiment.'

No message could have pleased me better. I was already very well thought of by my superior officers. It was evident to me, therefore, that this sudden order meant that the regiment was about to see service once more, and that Lasalle understood how incomplete my squadron would be without me. It is true that it came at an inconvenient moment, for the keeper of the post-house had a daughter—one of those ivory-skinned, black-haired Polish girls—with whom I had hoped to have some further talk. Still, it is not for the pawn to argue when the fingers of the player move him from the square; so down I went, saddled my big black charger, Rataplan, and set off instantly upon my lonely journey.