tes and balls succeeded
each other; and each night I found myself a guest at some splendid
entertainment, but where I neither knew nor was known to any one.

It was on one morning, after a very magnificent fete at the
Arch-Chancellor's, that I remembered, for the first time, I had not seen
my poor friend Pioche since his arrival at Paris. A thrill of shame
ran through me at the thought of having neglected to ask after my old
comrade of the march, and I ordered my horse at once, to set out for
the Hotel-Dieu, which had now been in great part devoted to the wounded
soldiers.

The day was a fine one for the season; and as I entered the large
courtyard I perceived numbers of the invalids moving about in groups, to
enjoy the air and the sun of a budding spring. Poor fellows! they were
but the mere remnants of humanity. Several had lost both legs, and few
were there without an empty sleeve to their loose blue coats. In a large
hall, where three long tables were being laid for dinner, many were
seated around the ample fireplaces; and at one of these a larger
group than ordinary attracted my attention. They were not chatting and
laughing, like the rest, but apparently in deep silence. I approached,
curious to know the reason; and then perceived that they were all
listening attentively to some one reading aloud. The tones of the voice
were familiar to me; I stopped to hear them more plainly.

It was Minette herself--the vivandiere--who sat there in the midst;
beside her, half reclining in a deep, old-fashioned armchair, was "le
gros Pioche," his huge beard descending midway on his chest, and his
great mustache curling below his upper lip. He had greatly rallied since
I saw him last, but still showed signs of debility and feebleness by the
very attitude in which he lay.

[Illustration 194]

Mingling unperceived with the crowd, who were far too highly interested
in the recital to pay any attention to my approach, I listened
patiently, and soon perceived that mademoiselle was reading some
incident of the Egyptian campaign from one of those innumerable volumes
which then formed the sole literature of the garrison.

"The redoubt," continued Minette, "was strongly defended in front by
stockades and a ditch, while twelve pieces of artillery and a force of
seven hundred Mamelukes were within the works. Suddenly an aide-de-camp
arrived at full gallop, with orders for the Thirty-second to attack the
redoubt with the bayonet, and ca