Fiction > Serialisations > London, 1896-1897 - St. Ives > Volume 10

326 THE Px\LL MALL MAGAZINE.
multitude of stars appeared. Meantime, in the midst of us lay Goguelat, and
could not always withhold himself iVom groaning.
We heard the round lar off ; heard it draw slowly nearer. Last of all, it turned
the corner and moved into our field of vision : two file of men and a corporal
with a lantern, which he swung to and fro, so as to cast its light in the recesses
of the yards and sheds.
" Hullo ! " cried the corporal, pausing as he came by Goguelat.
He stooped with his lantern. All our hearts were flying.
" What devil's work is this ? " he cried, and with a startling voice summoned
the guard.
We were all afoot upon the instant ; more lanterns and soldiers crowded in
front of the shed ; an officer elbowed his way in. In the midst was the big naked
body, soiled with blood. Some one had covered him with his blanket; but as he
lay there in agony, he had partly thrown it off.
"This is murder!" cried the officer. "You wild beasts, you will hear of this
to-morrow."
As Goguelat was raised and laid upon a stretcher, he cried to us a cheerful
and blasphemous farewell.
CHAPTER HL
MAJOR CHEVENIX COMES INTO THE STORY, AND GOGUELAT GOES OUT.
There was never any talk of a recovery, and no time was lost in getting the
man's deposition. He gave but the one account of it : that he had committed
suicide because he was sick of seeing so many Englishmen. The doctor
vowed it was impossible, the nature and direction of the wound forbidding it.
Goguelat replied that he was more ingenious than the other thought for, and had
propped up the weapon in the ground and fallen on the point — " just like
Nebuchadnezzar," he added, winking to the assistants. The doctor, who was a
little, spruce, ruddy man of an impatient temper, pished and pshawed and swore
over his patient. " Nothing to be made of him ! " he cried. " A perfect heathen.
If we could only find the weapon ! " But the weapon had ceased to exist. A
little resined twine was perhaps blowing about in the castle gutters ; some bits of
broken stick may have trailed in corners ; and behold, in the pleasant air of the
morning, a dandy prisoner trimming his nails with a pair of scissors !
Finding the wounded man so firm, you may be sure the authorities did not
leave the rest of us in peace. No stone was left unturned. We were had in again
and again to be examined, now singly, now in twos and threes. AVe were
threatened with all sorts of impossible severities and tempted with all manner of
improbable rewards. I suppose I was five times interrogated, and came off from
each with flying colours. I am like old Souvaroff, I cannot understand a soldier
being taken aback by any question ; he should answer as he marches on the fire
with an instant briskness and gaiety. I may have been short of bread, gold or
grace ; I was never yet found wanting in an answer. My comrades, if they were
not all so ready, were none of them less staunch ; and I may say here at once
that the inquiry came to nothing at the time, and the death of Goguelat remained
a mystery of the prison. Such were the veterans of France ! And yet I should
be disingenuous if I did not own this was a case apart ; in ordinary circumstances,
some one might have stumbled or been intimidated into an admission ; and what