Up a straight street, so steep and so narrow that it seemed a stair, with hundreds of men crowding around me, I was borne along. Now, they were sailors who carried me; now, white-bearded grenadiers, with their bronzed, bold faces; now, they were the wild-looking Faquini of the Mole, with long-tasselled red caps, and gaudy sashes around their waists. Windows were opened on either side as we went, and eager faces protruded to stare at me; and then there were shouts and cries of triumphant joy bursting forth at every moment, amidst which I could hear the ever-recurring words—‘Escaped from the English fleet.’

By what means, or when, I had exchanged my dripping trousers of coarse sailcloth for the striped gear of our republican mode—how one had given me his jacket, another a cap, and a third a shirt—I knew not; but there I was, carried along in triumph, half fainting from exhaustion, and almost maddened by excitement. That I must have told something of my history—Heaven knows how incoherently and unconnectedly—is plain enough, for I could hear them repeating one to the other—‘Had served with Moreau’s corps in the Black Forest;’ ‘A hussar of the Ninth;’ ‘One of Humbert’s fellows’; and so on.

As we turned into a species of ‘Place,’ a discussion arose as to whither they should convey me. Some were for the ‘Cavalry Barracks,’ that I might be once more with those who resembled my old comrades. Others, more considerate, were for the hospital; but a staff-officer decided the question by stating that the general was at that very moment receiving the report in the church of the Annunziata, and that he ought to see me at once.

‘Let the poor fellow have some refreshment,’ cried one. ‘Here, take this, it’s coffee.’ ‘No, no, the petite goutte is hotter—try that flask.’ ‘He shall have my chocolate,’ said an old major, from the door of a cafÉ; and thus they pressed and solicited me with a generosity that I had yet to learn how dear it cost.

‘He ought to be dressed’; ‘He should be in uniform’; ‘Is better as he is’; ‘The general will not speak to him thus’; ‘He will’; ‘He must.’

Such, and such like, kept buzzing around me, as with reeling brain and confused vision they bore me up the great steps, and carried me into a gorgeous church, the most splendidly ornamented building I had ever beheld. Except, however, in the decorations of the ceiling, and the images of saints which figured in niches high up, every trace of a religious edifice had disappeared. The pulpit had gone—the chairs and seats for the choir, the confessionals, the shrines, altars—all had been uprooted, and a large table, at which some twenty officers were seated writing, now occupied the elevated platform of the high altar, while here and there stood groups of officers, with their reports from their various corps or parties in out-stations. Many of these drew near to me as I entered, and now the buzz of voices in question and rejoinder swelled into a loud noise; and while some were recounting my feat with all the seeming accuracy of eye-witnesses, others were as resolutely protesting it all to be impossible. Suddenly the tumult was hushed, the crowd fell back, and as the clanking muskets proclaimed ‘a salute,’ a whispered murmur announced the ‘general.’

I could just see the waving plumes of his staff, as they passed up; and then, as they were disappearing in the distance, they stopped, and one hastily returned to the entrance of the church.

‘Where is this fellow? let me see him,’ cried he hurriedly, brushing his way through the crowd. ‘Let him stand down; set him on his legs.’

‘He is too weak, capitaine,’ said a soldier.

‘Place him in a chair, then,’ said the aide-de-camp, for such he was. ‘You have made your escape from the English fleet, my man?’ continued he, addressing me.

‘I am an officer, and your comrade,’ replied I proudly; for with all my debility, the tone of his address stung me to the quick.

‘In what service, pray?’ asked he, with a sneering look at my motley costume.

‘Your general shall hear where I have served, and how, whenever he is pleased to ask me,’ was my answer.

‘Ay, parbleu!, cried three or four sous-officiers in a breath, ‘the general shall see him himself.’

And with a jerk they hoisted me once more on their shoulders, and with a run—the regular storming tramp of the line—they advanced up the aisle of the church, and never halted till within a few feet of where the staff were gathered around the general. A few words—they sounded like a reprimand—followed; a severe voice bade the soldiers ‘fall back,’ and I found myself standing alone before a tall and very strongly built man, with a large, red-brown beard; he wore a grey upper coat over his uniform, and carried a riding-whip in his hand.

‘Get him a seat. Let him have a glass of wine,’ cried he quickly, as he saw the tottering efforts I was making to keep my legs. ‘Are you better now?’ asked he, in a voice which, rough as it was, sounded kindly.

Seeing me so far restored, he desired me to recount my late adventure, which I did in the fewest words, and the most concise fashion, I could. Although never interrupting, I could mark that particular portions of my narrative made much impression on him, and he could not repress a gesture of impatience when I told him that I was impressed as a seaman to fight against the flag of my own country.

‘Of course, then,’ cried he, ‘you were driven to the alternative of this attempt.’

‘Not so, general,’ said I, interrupting; ‘I had grown to be very indifferent about my own fortunes. I had become half fatalist as to myself. It was on very different grounds, indeed, that I dared this danger. It was to tell you, for if I mistake not I am addressing General Massvna, tidings of deep importance.’

I said these words slowly and deliberately, and giving them all the impressiveness I was able.

‘Come this way, friend,’ said he, and, assisting me to arise, he led me a short distance off, and desired me to sit down on the steps in front of the altar railing. ‘Now, you may speak freely. I am the General MassÉna, and I have only to say, that if you really have intelligence of any value for me, you shall be liberally rewarded; but if you have not, and if the pretence be merely an effort to impose on one whose cares and anxieties are already hard to bear, it would be better that you had perished on sea than tried to attempt it.’

There was a stern severity in the way he said this, which for a moment or two actually overpowered me. It was quite clear that he looked for some positive fact, some direct piece of information on which he might implicitly rely; and here was I now with nothing save the gossip of some English lieutenants, the idle talk of inexperienced young officers. I was silent. From the bottom of my heart I wished that I had never reached the shore, to stand in a position of such humiliation as this.

‘So, then, my caution was not unneeded,’ said the general, as he bent his heavy brows upon me. ‘Now, sir, there is but one amende you can make for this; tell me frankly, have others sent you on this errand, or is the scheme entirely of your own devising? Is this an English plot, or is there a Bourbon element in it?’

‘Neither one nor the other,’ said I boldly, for indignation at last gave me courage. ‘I hazarded my life to tell you what I overheard among the officers of the fleet yonder; you may hold their judgment cheap; you may not think their counsels worth the pains of listening to; but I could form no opinion of this, and only thought if these tidings could reach you, you might profit by them.’

‘And what are they?’ asked he bluntly.

‘They said that your force was wasting away by famine and disease; that your supplies could not hold out above a fortnight; that your granaries were empty, and your hospitals filled.’

‘They scarcely wanted the gift of second-sight to see this,’ said he bitterly. ‘A garrison in close siege for four months may be suspected of as much.’

‘Yes; but they said that as Soult’s force fell back upon the city, your position would be rendered worse.’

‘Fell back from where?’ asked he, with a searching look at me.

‘As I understood, from the Apennines,’ replied I, growing more confident as I saw that he became more attentive. ‘If I understood them aright, Soult held a position called the “Monte Faccio.” Is there such a name?’

‘Go on,’ said he, with a nod of assent.

‘That this could not long be tenable without gaining the highest fortified point of the mountain. The “Monte Creto” they named it.’

‘The attempt on which has failed!’ said MassÉna, as if carried away by the subject; ‘and Soult himself is a prisoner! Go on.’

‘They added, that now but one hope remained for this army.’

‘And what was that, sir?’ said he fiercely. ‘What suggestion of cunning strategy did these sea-wolves intimate?’

‘To cut your way through the blockade, and join Suchet’s corps, attacking the Austrians at the Monte Ratte, and by the sea-road gaining the heights of Bochetta.’

‘Do these heroic spirits know the strength of the same Austrian corps? did they tell you that it numbered fifty-four thousand bayonets?’

‘They called them below forty thousand; and that now that Bonaparte was on his way through the Alps, perhaps by this over the Mount Cenis——’

‘What! did they say this? Is Bonaparte so near us?’ cried he, placing a hand on either shoulder, as he stared me in the face.

‘Yes; there is no doubt of that. The despatch to Lord Keith brought the news a week ago, and there is no secret made about it in the fleet.’

‘Over Mount Cenis!’ repeated he to himself. ‘Already in Italy!’

‘Holding straight for Milan, Lord Keith thinks,’ added I.

‘No, sir, straight for the Tuileries,’ cried MassÉna sternly; and then correcting himself suddenly, he burst into a forced laugh. I must confess that the speech puzzled me sorely at the time, but I lived to learn its meaning; and many a time have I wondered at the shrewd foresight which even then read the ambitious character of the future Emperor.

‘Of this fact, then, you are quite certain. Bonaparte is on his march hither?’

‘I have heard it spoken of every day for the last week,’ replied I; ‘and it was in consequence of this that the English officers used to remark, if MassÉna but knew it, he’d make a dash at them, and clear his way through at once.’

‘They said this, did they?’ said he, in a low voice, and as if pondering over it.

‘Yes; one and all agreed in thinking there could not be a doubt of the result.’

‘Where have you served, sir?’ asked he, suddenly turning on me, and with a look that showed he was resolved to test the character of the witness.

‘With Moreau, sir, on the Rhine and the Schwarz-wald; in Ireland with Humbert.’

‘Your regiment?’

‘The Ninth Hussar.’

‘The “Tapageurs”’ said he, laughing. ‘I know them, and glad I am not to have their company here at this moment; you were a lieutenant?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Well, supposing that, on the faith of what you have told me, I was to follow the wise counsel of these gentlemen, would you like the alternative of gaining your promotion in the event of success, or being shot by a peloton if we fail.’

‘They seem sharp terms, sir,’ said I, smiling, ‘when it is remembered that no individual efforts of mine can either promote one result or the other.’

‘Ay, but they can, sir,’ cried he quickly. ‘If you should turn out to be an Austro-English spy; if these tidings be of a character to lead my troops into danger; if, in reliance on you, I should be led to compromise the honour and safety of a French army—your life, were it worth ten thousand times over your own value of it, would be a sorry recompense. Is this intelligible?’

‘Far more intelligible than flattering,’ said I, laughing; for I saw that the best mode to treat him was by an imitation of his own frank and careless humour. ‘I have already risked that life you hold so cheaply to convey this information, but I am still ready to accept the conditions you offer me, if, in the event of success, my name appear in the despatch.’

He again stared at me with his dark and piercing eyes; but I stood the glance with a calm conscience, and he seemed so to read it, for he said—

‘Be it so. I will, meanwhile, test your prudence. Let nothing of this interview transpire—not a word of it among the officers and comrades you shall make acquaintance with. You shall serve on my own staff. Go now, and recruit your strength for a couple of days, and then report yourself at headquarters when ready for duty.—Latrobe, look to the Lieutenant Tiernay; see that he wants for nothing, and let him have a horse and a uniform as soon as may be.’

Captain Latrobe, the future General of Division, was then a young gay officer of about five-and-twenty, very good-looking, and full of life and spirits—a buoyancy which the terrible uncertainties of the siege could not repress.

‘Our general talks nobly, Tiernay,’ said he, as he gave me his arm to assist me; ‘but you ‘ll stare when I tell you that “wanting for nothing” means, having four ounces of black bread, and ditto of blue cheese, per diem; and as to a horse, if I possessed such an animal, I’d have given a dinner-party yesterday and eaten him. You look surprised, but when you see a little more of us here, you’ll begin to think that prison rations in the fleet yonder were luxuries compared to what we have. No matter, you shall take share of my superabundance; and if I have little else to offer, I’ll show you a view from my window, finer than anything you ever looked on in your life, and with a sea-breeze that would be glorious if it didn’t make one hungry.’

While he thus rattled on, we reached the street, and there, calling a couple of soldiers forward, he directed them to carry me along to his quarters, which lay in the upper town, on an elevated plateau that overlooked the city and the bay together.

From the narrow lanes, flanked with tall, gloomy houses, and steep, ill-paved streets, exhibiting poverty and privation of every kind, we suddenly emerged into an open space of grass, at one side of which a handsome iron railing stood, with a richly ornamented gate, gorgeously gilded. Within this was a garden and a fish-pond, surrounded with statues, and farther on, a long, low villa, whose windows reached to the ground, and were shaded by a deep awning of striped blue and white canvas.

Camellias, orange-trees, cactuses, and magnolias abounded everywhere; tulips and hyacinths seemed to grow wild; and there was in the half-neglected look of the spot something of savage luxuriance that heightened the effect immensely.

‘This is my Paradise, Tiernay, only wanting an Eve to be perfect,’ said Latrobe, as he set me down beneath a spreading lime-tree. ‘Yonder are your English friends; there they stretch away for miles beyond that point. That’s the Monte Creto, you may have heard of; and there’s the Bochetta. In that valley, to the left, the Austrian outposts are stationed; and from those two heights closer to the shore, they are gracious enough to salute us every evening after sunset, and even prolong the attention sometimes the whole night through. Turn your eyes in this direction, and you’ll see the “cornice” road, that leads to la belle France, but of which we see as much from this spot as we are ever like to do. So much for the geography of our position; and now to look after your breakfast. You have, of course, heard that we do not revel in superfluities. Never was the boasted excellence of our national cookery more severely tested, for we have successively descended from cows and sheep to goats, horses, donkeys, dogs, occasionally experimenting on hides and shoe-leather, till we ended by regarding a rat as a rarity, and deeming a mouse a delicacy of the season. As for vegetables, there would not have been a flowering plant in all Genoa, if tulip and ranunculus roots had not been bitter as aloes. These seem very inhospitable confessions, but I make them the more freely since I am about to treat you en gourmet. Come in now, and acknowledge that juniper bark isn’t bad coffee, and that commissary bread is not to be thought of “lightly.”’

In this fashion did my comrade invite me to a meal, which, even with this preface, was far more miserable and scanty than I looked for.