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"Ah! if I had thought that priest would have made thee so sad, Mademoiselle, I'd have let him spend his night beneath a wagon rather than in my quarters," said a deep, hollow voice I at once recognized as that of Pioche. "But the morning air will revive thee; so let us forward: by threes open order trot."
As I took the loaf, he disengaged his point, and scratched the back of my hand with it. Obviously an insult was intended. "Ah, an accident, morbleu!" said he, with an impertinent shrug. "So is this!" said I, as I seized his sword and smashed it across my knee. "It's François, maitre d'armes of the Fourth," whispered Pioche; "one of the cleverest duellists of the army."
"Or a lieutenant of hussars, Mademoiselle!" said Pioche, looking fixedly at the vivandière, who held the book close to her face to conceal a deep blush that covered it. "But, halloo, there! Qui vive?" The cuirassier had just caught a glimpse of me at the moment, and every eye was turned at once to where I was standing. "Ah, Lieutenant, you here! Not invalided, I hope?" "No, Pioche.
Everybody in the place ran out of doors to see what the race was about. "Monsieur Pioche I only want your vote," the Attorney panted, closing up with his victim. "Let me go, Master Populus," the peasant cried, clasping his hands and falling on his knees. "Faith of God! I can swear that I have none of that. I never saw one, I assure you, Monsieur.
A few weeks after my return to Paris, the whole garrison was placed in review order to receive the wounded of Austerlitz. As the emperor rode forward bareheaded to greet his maimed veterans, I heard laughter among the staff that surrounded him. Stepping up, I saw my old friend Pioche, who had been dangerously wounded, with his hand in salute.
"You belong to the Guard, my friends," said I, as I paused for breath at a turn of the path. "The Fourth Cuirassiers of the Guard," replied the soldier I addressed; "Milhaud's brigade." How my heart leaped as he said these words! They were part of the division General d'Auvergne once commanded; it was the regiment of poor Pioche, too, before the dreadful day of Austerlitz.
"'Halloo, comrades! shouted the tambour; 'don't leave me behind you. And in an instant two grenadiers stooped down and hoisted him on their shoulders, and then rushed forward through the smoke and flame. Crashing and smashing went the shot through the leading files; but on they went, leaping over the dead and dying." "With the tambour still?" asked Pioche.
On one of these we secured a place for our poor friend, and walked along beside him towards the convent. As we went along I questioned his comrade closely on the point; and he told me that Pioche had resolved never to survive the battle, and had taken leave of his friends the evening before.
A man named Wright, during the same season, built a still finer building just across the street from us; Pioche, Bayerque & Co. were already established on another corner of Jackson Street, and the new Metropolitan Theatre was in progress diagonally opposite us.
When Ulm had capitulated, General d'Auvergne and his staff returned to Elchingen, and on the night when we reached the place I was on the point of lying down supperless in the open air, when I met an old acquaintance, Corporal Pioche, a giant cuirassier of the Guard, who had fought in all Bonaparte's campaigns. "Ah, mon lieutenant," said he, "not supped yet, I'll wager.
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