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Updated: May 28, 2025
The tents had come from lumber-camps, from river-driving gangs, and from private stores; there was some regular uniform, flags were flying everywhere, many fires were burning, the voice of Lagroin in command came up the valley loudly, and Valmond watched the drill and a march past. The fires lit up the sides of the valley and glorified the mountains beyond.
"I know my enemy, madame," he said. "Your enemy is not here," she rejoined kindly. He stooped over her hand, and bowed Lagroin and Parpon to the door. "Madame," he said, "I thank you. Will you accept a souvenir of him whom we both love, martyr and friend of France?" He drew from his breast a small painting of Napoleon, on ivory, and handed it to her. "It was the work of David," he continued.
Lagroin then put five gold pieces each into the hands of Muroc and Duclosse, and said: "I take you into the service of Prince Valmond Napoleon, and you do hereby swear to serve him loyally, even to the shedding of your blood, for his honour and the honour of France; and you do also vow to require a like loyalty and obedience of all men under your command. Swear."
Come, Corporal Lagroin, he call; and I come. 'But, first, he say, 'up on the shoulder of your big soldier again, and play. 'What shall I play, sire? I ask. 'Play ten thousand heroes to Walhalla, he answer. I play, and I think of my brother Jacques, who went fighting to heaven the day before. Beautiful God! that was a day at Auerstadt." "Soldier," said Valmond, waving his hand, "step on.
He brought his stick down smartly on the ground, drew himself up, squared his shoulders, and said: "Courage, Eustache Lagroin. It is not forty Prussians, but one rogue! Crush him! Down with the pretender!" So, with a defiant light in his eye, he came on, the old uniform sagging loosely on the shrunken body, which yet was soldier-like from head to foot.
Handing one to each, he poured them brimming full. Then, filling his own, he spilled a little in the steely dust of the smithy floor. All did the same, though they knew not why. "What's that for?" asked the mealman. "To show the Little Corporal, dear Corporal Violet, and my comrades of the Old Guard, that we don't forget them," cried Lagroin.
In this inspiring air it was impossible to feel an accent of disaster or to hear the stealthy footfall of ruin. The three journeyed down into the valley, then up onto the plateau, where they were challenged, allowed to pass, and came to where Valmond sat upon his horse. At sight of them, with a suspicion of the truth, he ordered Lagroin to march the men down the long plateau.
"If he has sense, I'll make a captain of him," remarked Lagroin consequentially. "You shall beat him into a captain on his own anvil," rejoined the little man. They entered the shop. Lajeunesse was leaning on his bellows, laughing, and holding an iron in the spitting fire; Muroc was seated on the edge of the cooling tub; and Duclosse was resting on a bag of his excellent meal.
The Old Guard never surrenders!" Then he made as if to rush forward on the troops. "Fire!" called the officer. Twenty rifles blazed out. Lagroin tottered back, and fell at the feet of his master. Raising himself, he clasped Valmond's knee, and, looking up, said gaspingly: "Adieu, sire! I love you; I die for you." His head fell at his Emperor's feet, though the hands still clutched the knee.
His voice shook as he said it, and the world to him was all a muddle then; for Napoleon the Great had asked a private this question after that battle on the Alle, when Berningsen, the Russian, threw away an army to the master strategist. The private had answered the question in the words of Sergeant Lagroin.
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