related it all to you--No? Well, that does not astonish me; for he was
no braggart, that father of yours; he was a man! Had he not quitted the
army, a brilliant career was before him. People talk a great deal of
Pelissier, of Canrobert, of MacMahon, and of others. I say nothing
against them; they are good men doubtless--at least I hear so; but your
father would have eclipsed them all had he taken the trouble. But he
didn't take the trouble!

"Well, for the story: We were crossing a gorge of the Atlas; we were in
retreat; I had lost my command; I was following as a volunteer. It is
useless to weary you with details; we were in retreat; a shower of stones
and bullets poured upon us, as if from the moon. Our column was slightly
disordered; I was in the rearguard--whack! my horse was down, and I
under him!

We were in a narrow gorge with sloping sides some fifteen feet high; five
dirty guerillas slid down the sides and fell upon me and on the beast--
forty devils! I can see them now! Just here the gorge took a sudden
turn, so no one could see my trouble; or no one wished to see it, which
comes to the same thing.

"I have told you things were in much disorder; and I beg you to remember
that with a dead horse and five live Arabs on top of me, I was not very
comfortable. I was suffocating; in fact, I was devilish far from
comfortable.

"Just then your father ran to my assistance, like the noble fellow he
was! He drew me from under my horse; he fell upon the Arabs. When I was
up, I aided him a little--but that is nothing to the point--I never shall
forget him!"