The Young Franc Tireurs, and Their Adventures in the Franco-Prussian War by Henty (fun to read .txt) 📗

by Colonel Tempe and his franc tireurs, and by the irregular forces. A considerable army was now fast gathering at Besancon, and the regimental and superior staff officers were hard at work at the organization As aides-de-camp, the boys had little to do; and therefore requested leave, for two or three days, to go up to their old friends, the franc tireurs of Dijon. The general at once granted the required permission; adding, with a smile:

"Don't forget you are officers now, lads, and get into any hare-brained adventures, you know; and be sure you are back on Thursday, as I expect General Michel--my successor--to arrive on Friday; and I shall have to give you, as part of my belongings."

"We are sure to be back, general."

And so they set off; taking, as usual, Tim Doyle with them, as orderly and servant.

"Faith, and I am glad enough to be out in the open again, Mister Ralph," Tim said, as they left Besancon behind. "After living out in the woods, for six weeks; there does not seem room to breathe, in a crowded town."

"It's jolly to be out again, Tim; but I don't know that I mind a town again, for a few days."

"Ah, it's all very well for the likes of yees, Mister Ralph--with your officer's uniform, and your arm in a sling, and the girls all looking at you as a hero--but for me it's different, entirely. Out in the open I feel that--except when there's anything to do for your honors--I am my own master, and can plase myself. Here in the town I am a common hussar; and my arm is just weary with saluting to all the fellows, with a sword by their side, that I meet in the street.

"Then there's no chance of any fighting, as long as we're shut up in the walls of a town; and what's the use of being decked up in uniform, except to fight? Is there any chance of just the least scrimmage in the world, while we are back again with the boys?" he asked, persuasively.

The boys laughed.

"Not much, Tim; but we shall be pretty close to the enemy, and something may turn up, at any moment. But surely you've had enough, in the last six weeks?"

"Pretty well, Mister Percy--pretty well; but you see, the last affair didn't count."

"Oh, didn't it count!" Ralph said, looking at his arm. "I think it counted for two or three fights and, if you were not hit, I am sure you were fired at often enough to satisfy the most desperate lover of fighting, Tim."

"I was fired at often enough, I daresay, Mister Ralph; and I can't say that I liked it, entirely. It isn't so mighty pleasant--sitting like a stiff statue behind the general, with the shells falling about you like peas, and not allowed the divarshin of a single shot back, in return.

"'Shoot away,' says I, 'as hard as you like; but let's shoot back, in return.'"

The boys laughed, and the day passed pleasantly as they rode, and talked. The dusk had already fallen when they reached a party of franc tireurs. It was not their own corps, nor could the officer in command tell exactly where they could find them.

"We are scattered over a considerable extent of country," he said; "and the colonel, alone, could tell you how we are all placed. I expect that he will be here, tonight; and your best plan will be to stay here, till he comes. We have not much to offer you, but such as it is, it is at your service."

After a moment's consultation, the boys agreed to accept the offer; as they had palpably more chance of meeting Colonel Tempe, there, than in a journey through the woods, at night; and in another ten minutes their horses were tied to trees, and they were sitting by a blazing fire, with the officers of franc tireurs. The village consisted of only three or four houses and, as there were fifty men in the party upon which they had come, they bivouacked under the trees, hard by.

"How far off are the Germans?" Ralph asked, when dinner was over; and they lay by the fire, smoking cigars.

"Ten miles or so," the officer answered, carelessly.

"No chance of their coming this way, I hope," Ralph laughed. "We were very nearly caught near Saverne, once."

"So I heard," the officer said, "but I am rather skeptical as to these night surprises. In nine cases out of ten--mind, I don't mean for a moment that it was so in your case--but in nine cases out of ten, these rumors of night attacks are all moonshine."

"Perhaps so," Ralph said, a little gravely--for he had already noticed that the discipline was very different, among these men, than that to which he had been accustomed among the franc tireurs of Dijon; "perhaps so, but we can hardly be too careful.

"How do you all like Colonel Tempe?"

"The colonel would be an excellent fellow, were he not our colonel," the officer laughed. "He is a most unconscionable man. For ever marching, and drilling, and disciplining. If he had his way, he would make us like a regiment of line; as if there could be any good in carrying out all that sort of thing, with franc tireurs. He had about half of us together, for three or four days; and I give you my word it was as bad as slavery. Drill, drill, drill, from morning till night. I was heartily glad, I can tell you, when I got away with this detachment."

Ralph saw that his new acquaintance was one of that innumerable class who conceived that drill and discipline were absurdities, and that it was only necessary for a Frenchman to shoulder a gun for him to be a soldier; so he easily avoided argument, by turning the subject. For a couple of hours they chatted; and then, as the fire was burning low, and the men had already laid down to sleep, Ralph suggested that they should do the same.

"I will walk round the sentries first, with you, if you like," he said.

"Sentries!" the other said, with a laugh; "there is my sentry," and he pointed to a man standing, ten paces off, leaning against a tree. "The men have marched all day--they only came in an hour before you did--and I am not going to waste their strength by putting half of them out to watch the forest.

"No, no, I am no advocate for harassing my men."

"Good night, then," Ralph said, briefly, and he wrapped himself in his cloak, and lay down.

"We are not accustomed to this sort of thing, Percy," he whispered to his brother, in English, "and I don't like it. No wonder our franc tireurs do so badly, if this is a sample of their discipline."

"I don't like it either, Ralph. The Prussians are advancing; and if that fellow last heard of them as ten miles off, they are as likely as not to be only two. I shan't be sorry when morning comes."

"Nor I either, Percy. However, here we are, and we have no authority over this fellow; so we must make the best of it, and hope that--for once--folly will not have its just reward."

So saying, the boys remained silent for the night. But although silent, neither of them slept much--Ralph especially, whose arm was still very sore, and at times painful, hardly closed his eyes. He told himself it was absurd, but he could not help listening, with painful attention.

Had the night been a quiet one, he need not have strained his ears; for as he knew, from the many hours he had passed at night upon guard, the hush is so intense--in these great forests--that one can hear the fall of a mountain stream, miles away; and the snapping of a twig, or almost the falling of a leaf, will catch the ear. The night, however, was windy; and the rustle of the pine forest would have deadened all sound, except anything sharp, and near.

The sentry did not appear similarly impressed with the necessity for any extraordinary attention. He was principally occupied in struggling against cold, and drowsiness. He walked up and down, he stamped his foot, hummed snatches of songs, yawned with great vigor, and so managed to keep awake for two hours; when he roused the next for duty, and lay down with a grunt of relief.

At last, after keeping awake for hours, Ralph dozed off. How long he slept, he knew not; but he was roused into full wakefulness by a touch on the shoulder, and by hearing Tim Doyle whisper:

"Hist, Mister Ralph, I've my doubts that there is something wrong. I couldn't sleep, in this camp without watch or outposts; and for the last quarter of an hour, I fancy I've been hearing noises. I don't know which way they are coming, but it seems to me they are all round us. I may be wrong, sir, but as sure as the piper--"

"Hush, Tim!" Ralph said to the Irishman, who had crawled noiselessly along, and had lain down by his side.

"Percy, are you awake?"

"Yes, I woke at Tim's whisper. Listen."

They did listen; and distinctly, above the sighing of the wind, they could hear a rustling, cracking noise. Day was just breaking, but the light was not sufficiently strong to show objects with any distinctness, among the trees.

"By Jove, we are surrounded!" Percy said; and was just going to alarm the camp when the sentry, startled into wakefulness, challenged and fired.

The franc tireurs woke, and leaped to their feet. Percy and Tim were about to do the same, when Ralph held them down.

"Lie still," he said, "for your lives."

His words were not out of his lips, when a tremendous volley rang out all round them; and half the franc tireurs fell.

"Now!" Ralph said, leaping up, "make a rush for a house.

"To the houses, all of you," he shouted, loudly. "It is our only chance. We shall be shot down, here, like sheep."

The officer of the franc tireurs had already atoned for his carelessness, by his life; and the men obeyed Ralph's call and, amidst a heavy fire, rushed across the fifty yards of open space to the houses. The door was burst in, with the rush.

Ralph had not stopped at the first house but, followed by his brother and Tim Doyle, had run farther on; and entered the last house in the village.

"Why did you not go in with the others, Ralph? We have no chance of defending ourselves, here. We have only our revolvers."

"We have no chance of defending ourselves anywhere, Percy," Ralph said. "There must be a couple of hundred of them, at least; and not above fifteen or twenty, at most, of the franc tireurs gained the houses. Resistance is utterly useless; and yet, had I been with those poor fellows, I could not have told them to surrender, when they would probably be shot, five minutes afterwards. We should be simply throwing away our lives, without doing the least good."

There was a heavy firing now heard and, a moment after, half a dozen shots were fired through the window. Then there was a rush of soldiers towards the door, which Ralph had purposely left open.

"We surrender," Ralph shouted, in German, coming forward to meet them. "We are French officers."

"Don't fire," a voice said, and then a young officer came forward.

"You are not franc tireurs?" he asked, for the light was still insufficient to enable him to distinguish uniforms.

"We are officers of the army, upon General Cambriels' staff. This man is an orderly.

"Here are our swords. We surrender, as prisoners of war."

The German officer bowed.

"Keep your swords, for the present, gentlemen. I am not in command."

At this moment, another officer came up.

"Who have we here, Von Hersen? Why do you make prisoners?"

"They are two staff officers, major."

"Hem," said the major, doubtfully.

"Well, if you are an officer," he continued, "order your men to cease their resistance."

The franc tireurs, most of whom had taken refuge in the same cottage, were still defending themselves desperately; and were keeping up a heavy fire, from the windows.

"I will order them to surrender, at once," Ralph said, quietly; "if you give me your word that they shall be treated as prisoners of war."

"I will do nothing of the sort, sir," the German answered.

"Then I shall certainly not advise them to surrender," Ralph said, firmly. "I have no authority, whatever, over them; but if I give advice, it would be that they should sell their lives as dearly as possible."

The officer swore a deep German oath, and strode off. For five more minutes the fight continued round the cottage, many of the Germans falling; then a rush was made, there was a fierce contest inside the house--shouts, shrieks, cries for mercy--and then all was still.

The young Barclays and Tim were now told to sit down near a tree,