The Enchanted City by Eugene Hennebert

Author:Eugene Hennebert [Hennebert, Eugene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Coat Press
Published: 2015-03-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter XIII

A Council of War

It was the twenty-eighth of March. It would soon be a month that a handful of Europeans had been holding firmly at bay the forces of an army of savages. Without improving the situation greatly, the return of Isidore might perhaps occasion modifications in the general nature of the defense. The zouave-cook, who had just presided over the operations of the attack in the capacity of commanding general, could, at any rate, supply useful information. Given that, Monsieur Fresnel thought that he ought to hold a council of war.

He assembled his companions in the shade of a palm tree, under a hut affecting an octagonal form, atop the soil of which was covered with a thick layer of goat dung. Such is, in those latitudes, the only means one has of protecting oneself against the attacks of the large ferocious ants that, in order better to bite a traveler and suck his blood, stick their entire head under his skin. A flagpole bearing the French colors was planted in front of the hut.

The members of the council presided over by the Commandant were engineer Duvivier, Professor Cornelius Bernard and Dr. Quentin. Abbé Le Couëdic, the mechanic, the smith and the carpenter represented the audience.

“Isidore Chauvelot,” called the Commandant, opening the session.

“Present!”

“You left the ranks of the column on 26 January 1877. It’s now the twenty-eighth of March. You have, therefore, been absent without leave for more than two months.”

“Two months! Well, it seemed longer than that to me.”

“I invite you to abstain from all useless or unhealthy reflections. In the course of that period of absence you accepted the command of a body of indigenous troops.”

“Yes, Commandant, that’s true.

“You, a French subject, have, without the authorization of your government, which I represent here, entered the service of a foreign power.”

“Those people were, in fact, strangers to me.”

“Please remain silent; let me establish the facts. At the head of these troops, which you describe yourself as ‘the diabolical army,’ you fought against us.”

“Oh! Commandant, I didn’t know….”

“I know what you can allege, for your defense; the court will take that into account. It understands that the circumstances in which you found yourself were exceptional; but it is nevertheless an established fact that you’ve borne arms against your fatherland. Do you admit that?”

“I can’t deny it, Commandant.”

“That’s good; stand down. The council will deliberate.”

Having saluted militarily, Isidore left the hut and went tranquilly to smoke a cigarette a short distance away. Hardened by the events that had taken place during those two months, he was quite calm.

After a quarter of an hour, hearing himself summoned, he returned with a firm tread, making the military salute once again. The members of the council of war were standing up.

“Isidore Chauvelot,” said the president, “the facts being incontestable and the terms of the law being precise….” At this point, Monsieur Fresnel’s voice caught in his throat. He had to pause.

It was the accused who went on: “Have no fear of continuing, Commandant.

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