When he crossed the ground over which Desaix's troops had made their first charge the fallen became thicker, and several times he had to jump his horse over twisted corpses or groaning men who were endeavouring to staunch the blood seeping from their wounds. Here and there groups of stretcher bearers were at work seeking in the murk to carry off casualties whose wounds they judged unlikely to be fatal, but their numbers were hopelessly inadequate to cope for many hours yet with the carnage that had taken place.
Behind the village the smoke grew denser. Many of the buildings were already burnt out, but others were still blazing and the flames from them showed as patches of lurid glare in the semi-darkness.
The air stank of gunpowder, burning wood, sweat and excrement to a degree that made Roger want to vomit, and he was half choked by the smoke that he could not escape drawing down into his lungs with every breath he look. As he pressed on he caught the sound of cheering and the thunder of massed hoofbeats. A minute later there came surging towards him out of the murk a long line of cavalry approaching at a furious gallop. Instantly he realized what had happened. Young Kellermann had also judged it time for him to bring his heavy Brigade into action and, anticipating Bonaparte's order, had already launched his charge.
The onrushing line of horsemen was over a hundred yards long and three men deep. Roger was almost in the centre of it. There was no time for him to turn his horse and gallop clear of either end of the line. Kellermann flashed past him waving his sword on high. All Roger could do was to cause his horse to rear and swing it round on its hind legs. Even as he did so he found himself almost wedged between two dragoons yelling like maniacs. After being carried with them a hundred yards, he tried desperately to rein in his mount, so that the two rear lines of horsemen should pass him and leave him free to make his way back to Bonaparte. But by then, maddened by the shouting and thunder of several hundred hooves, his horse was out of control. After frantically sawing at its jaw for a minute he realized that, even if he could bring the beast up and pull out of the crush, it would afterwards be said that he had acted as a coward. There was nothing for it but, as had happened to other A.D.C.s in similar circumstances, to take part in the charge.
Within a few minutes they were crossing the ground from which Desaix had launched his first attack, trampling down dead, dying and wounded alike, it being impossible to avoid them. Through the smoke Roger caught a glimpse of the white-uniformed enemy. The charge, delivered on their flank, had taken them by surprise, but they were swiftly forming square in order to resist it. Irregular flashes of flame stabbed .he semi-darkness as they fired a ragged volley. Roger felt a hammcr blow well up on the left side of his chest. It knocked him right back on to the crupper of his saddle. His hands lost their grip on the reins, and his feet were jerked free of the stirrups. His mount jumped some unseen obstacle. He bumped in his saddle and was then flung off. In an attempt o protect his head from the flying hooves of the other horses he flung his arms round it. As he crashed to the ground the breath was driven out of his body. Gulping for air he felt the salt taste of blood in his mouth. The sound of the battle grew dim in his cars and then he lost consciousness.
Leading a charge only a little earlier the gallant Desaix had been shot through the body and killed instantly. But he, and Kellermann's charge, had saved the day for the French. At Bonaparte's Headquarters on the night of the battle the loss of Desaix was lamented as a great blow. Roger, too, was mourned as dead.
6
Idyll by the Sea
It was several hours later when Roger came to. At first he could not think what had happened to him and knew only that his chest hurt excruciatingly. Then he became conscious that he was very cold. Slowly it dawned upon him that he had been shot during the charge, left for dead on the battlefield and was now naked.
The last fact did not surprise him. because he knew that swarms of camp followers always hovered in the rear of every army, and that among them were many human vultures who made a living by robbing the dead after every battle and stripping them of their clothes.
After some moments, making a great effort, he managed to half sit up; but the pain of his wound stabbed him violently, blood welling up into his mouth choked him and, his eyes starting out of his head, he fell back into a dead faint.
When he came round he lay still for a long time then, very cautiously, raised himself on one elbow. In that position he could make out by the moonlight his immediate surroundings. Here and there, some way off, he could sec small groups of shadowy figures carrying lanterns. They might be stretcher bearers looking for wounded whose lives could be saved, or ghouls seeking fresh bodies to plunder; but he now had nothing to lose and he desperately craved water. Even body robbers might give him that, so he assayed to attract the attention of the nearest group by a shout. No sound issued from his cracked lips; a flush of blood strangled it in his throat.
Temporarily suffocated and half stupefied by pain he fell back once more, now convinced that he was doomed to die there. When he got back his breath he moaned at the thought. He had performed no gallant action, rendered no great service to his own country and had not even delivered the message from Bonaparte. That he should lose his life through having unwillingly got himself mixed up in a cavalry charge seemed to him monstrously unfair. Again he raised himself a little and endeavoured to attract the attention of the group by waving his arm.
It was then that he heard Georgina's voice. It came to him clearly out of the night. He recognized it immediately and it did not even occur to him that he might be the victim of an hallucination. Owing to her sensitivity as a psychic and the strong affinity that bound them, she had often fell unaccountably uneasy when he was in danger; and more than once when he was faced with a major threat to his life, during sleep she had come to him and saved him by her counsel. Now, she said urgently:
'Lie still, Roger! Lie still! Conserve your strength. 'Tis your only hope of remaining alive until someone finds you.'
In spite of the awful pains in his chest and back and his terrible thirst, he forced himself to do as she bade him, shut his eyes and lay there endeavouring to check his spasmodic movements.
Not long afterwards he was rewarded. Through his closed eyelids he became conscious of a rosy glow. Opening his eyes he saw a man with a lantern bending over him and a voice said. 'This is not he.'
Then came another with a heavy German accent, 'No. But! . . . But, teufel nochmal, 'tis le brave Breuc!...'
Roger knew that voice. It seemed to have some connection with the Great Pyramid of Cheops. Then he remembered. It was that of German-born Colonel Rapp, and the other voice must be that of Colonel Savary. One sweltering day in Egypt he had climbed the Pyramid with them. They were Desaix's two A.D.C.s. From their next few sentences Roger dimly gathered that the General was dead and they were searching for his body.
While Rapp went to look for a stretcher party, Savary knelt down beside Roger and from his flask gave him enough water to rinse out his mouth. Ten minutes later, covered with a blanket, he was lying on a stretcher. After wishing him a good recovery, the two A.D.Cs resumed their search for their dead General, and he was carried away to a field hospital.
For some days he knew very little about what was happening to him as, to keep him quiet, whenever he roused from unconsciousness, he was given a draught of opium. Gradually, as the doses were reduced he learned from General Soult, who was in the bed next to his, where he was, and what had been taking place.