books, but at first hand, from contact with the men, and from having
taken part in the events.

After we had pitched camp for the night the others would elect me to
go to his tent, and ask if we could come over and pay our respects.
They always selected me for this errand, because they said it was easy
to see that I was his favorite.

When we were seated about him on the rocks, or on ammunition boxes, or
on the ground, I would say, "Please, General, we want to hear some
stories," and he would smile and ask, "What sort of stories?" and each
of us would ask for something different. Some would want to hear about
the Franco-Prussian war, and others of the Fall of Plevna or Don
Carlos or Garibaldi, or of the Confederate generals with whom Laguerre
had fought in Egypt.

When the others had said good-night he would sometimes call me back on
the pretence of giving me instructions for the morrow, and then would
come the really wonderful stories--the stories that no historian has
ever told. His talk was more educational than a library of histories,
and it filled me with a desire to mix with great people--to be their
companion as he had been, to have kings and pretenders for my
intimates. When one listened it sounded easy of accomplishment. It
never seemed strange to him that great rulers should have made a
friend of a stray soldier of fortune, an Irish adventurer--for
Laguerre's mother was Irish; his father had been Colonel Laguerre, and
once Military Governor of Algiers--and given him their confidence. And
yet I could see why they should do so, for just the very reason that
he took their confidence as a matter of course, knowing that his
loyalty would always be above suspicion. He had a great capacity for