'When you have been with the army for a little time the name of Etienne
Gerard will not be so unfamiliar to you,' said he. 'I believe that I
may claim to be the hero of one or two little stories which the soldiers
love to tell about their camp fires. You will hear of my duel with the
six fencing masters, and you will be told how, single-handed, I charged
the Austrian Hussars of Graz and brought their silver kettledrum back
upon the crupper of my mare. I can assure you that it was not by
accident that I was present last night, but it was because Colonel
Lasalle was very anxious to be sure of any prisoners whom he might make.
As it turned out, however, I only had the one poor chicken-hearted
creature, whom I handed over to the provost-marshal.'
'And the other--Toussac?'
'Ah, he seems to have been a man of another breed. I could have asked
nothing better than to have had him at my sword-point. But he has
escaped. They caught sight of him and fired a pistol or two, but he
knew the bog too well, and they could not follow him.'
'And what will be done to your prisoner?' I asked.
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