Methuen's Colonial Library
A MODERN LEGIONARY
UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME
A FRONTIERSMAN
By Roger Pocock
A
MODERN LEGIONARY
BY
JOHN PATRICK LE POER
METHUEN & CO.
36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
LONDON
1904
Colonial Library
A MODERN LEGIONARY
CHAPTER I
On a January morning in the early eighties I found myself in Pariswith less than a dozen francs in my purse, or rather my pockets, for Ihave always had a habit of distributing my money between waistcoat andtrousers, so that if one pocket be picked the contents of the othersmay have a chance of remaining still in my possession.
How I arrived in Paris is easily explained. After two years and ahalf in a boarding-school I had become so tired of its monotonousroutine and, indeed, of the idleness which prevailed there—for themasters never tried to teach, and, naturally, the boys never tried tolearn—that I resolved, when the Christmas vacation came to an end,to leave my home in the south of Ireland and seek my fortune throughthe world. Accordingly, instead of going back to school, I set outfor Dublin, whence I started for London by the first boat. In LondonI spent a day, and then came on to Paris, filled with vague hopes andvaguer misgivings as to my future. Thus it happened that I at the ageof sixteen was walking the streets of Paris on the 6th of January 188-.
I considered anxiously what lay before me. I could not go home, evenif pride did not forbid. True, I could write for money, having enoughto maintain myself until it came, but that would be too great ahumiliation. To dig I was not able, and to beg I[Pg 2] was ashamed, so I sawbut one course open to me—to enlist. Having made up my mind, which Idid the more easily as I had been brought up in a garrison town, andlike most boys loved to follow the soldiers in their bright uniformsand to march along with head erect, keeping step to the music of theband, I at once set about carrying my resolve into effect. I was notlong in beginning. As I walked along the streets I saw a soldier with agold chevron on his arm, and, going across the road, I addressed him. Idid not speak French very well, but had something more than the usualschoolboy knowledge of it, as I had read a good many French books andpapers when I should have been at Greek or Mathematics in the studyhall. Very soon, therefore, he learned my purpose, and a conversationensued, somewhat as follows:—
"You are English; is it not so?"
"No; I am Irish, from the south of Ireland."
"Very well, my friend; but you must go to the Foreign Legion, and thatwill not be very pleasant, you may well believe. Always in Algeria,except when serving in Tonquin and other devil's colonies on the earth."
"I do not mind that; in the English army one has to go to India andSouth Africa, so what matter?"
"Ah! and you are doubtless without money, and one has to live."
"Let us go in here," said I, pointing to a wine shop. "We can talkbetter over a glass."
"Good comrade! good comrade!" he cried, slapping me on the shoulder;"I see that you will be a soldier after my own heart. Have no fear,"he continued; "I will tel