Le 13e Hussards, types, profils, esquisses et croquis militaires... á pied et á cheval

Le 13e Hussards, types, profils, esquisses et croquis militaires... á pied et á cheval

Emile Gaboriau

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Le 13e Hussards, types, profils, esquisses et croquis militaires... á pied et á cheval by Emile Gaboriau

Le 13e Hussards, types, profils, esquisses et croquis militaires... á pied et á cheval Chapter 1 No.1

-Mille millions de tonnerres! s'écria le hussard Gédéon Flambert, j'y vois clair à la fin. Moi qui m'étais engagé pour servir glorieusement ma patrie, je suis tout simplement entré au service d'un cheval-de mon cheval.

Encore, ai-je bien le droit de l'appeler mon cheval, et n'est-ce pas lui, qui, à plus juste titre, pourrait dire: mon cavalier?

Le hussard Gédéon, de garde d'écurie ce soir-là était alors à demi couché sur une botte de paille. Pour la première fois, depuis cinq mois qu'il était soldat, il trouvait un instant pour réfléchir.

-Oui, continua-t-il, tout pour mon cheval, impossible de sortir de là. C'est, ma parole d'honneur, à en être jaloux. Je lui appartiens comme l'ombre au corps, ma vie est à lui, il l'absorbe, il la dévore. Car enfin, à quoi se passent mes jours, qu'ai-je fait aujourd'hui?

Ce matin, à cinq heures, bien avant le jour, j'ai été éveillé par les éclats enragés des trompettes.-Premier déjeuner et toilette de mon cheval.

Nouveau coup de trompette à six heures; pansage.-Cinq quarts d'heure durant j'ai étrillé, brossé, bouchonné, épongé, peigné mon cheval.

A neuf heures, promenade de mon cheval.

A midi, autre repas de mon cheval.

A deux heures, second pansage de mon cheval, nouveaux soins, autre repas.

A sept heures enfin, souper de mon cheval.

Et encore et toujours mon cheval! Pour lui on a remis en vigueur le cérémonial décrété par Caligula à l'usage de celui dont il fit un consul.

Cependant mon cheval est en bonne santé. Que serait-ce, grand Dieu! s'il était au régime. Je tremble à la seule pensée qu'il peut tomber malade et qu'alors je deviendrais son infirmier.

Mes journées ne lui suffisent pas, il lui faut mes nuits. Ainsi, à cette heure, lorsque je serais si aise de reposer dans mon lit, je suis ici de garde d'écurie, c'est-à-dire que je vais passer la nuit à veiller sur le sommeil de mon cheval, et du cheval de mon brigadier, et des chevaux de tous mes camarades...

-Garde d'écurie! cria une voix formidable, garde d'écurie!

D'un bond, Gédéon fut sur pied et en présence du brigadier de semaine qui faisait une ronde.

-Je présuppose que vous dormiez, dit sévèrement le brigadier; vous aurez le plaisir de me faire celui de deux jours de consigne.

-Brigadier, je vous assure...

-Silence dans le rrrang ou je réitère. Que je sais que les chevaux ils se plaignent que vos ronflements ils les empêchent de dormir.

Il n'y avait rien à répondre. Le brigadier s'éloigna en amortissant le bruit de ses pas, afin de surprendre quelque autre délinquant.

-évidemment, se dit Gédéon, je suis dans mon tort. Je songerai une autre fois à ne plus réfléchir, mieux vaut dormir maintenant et tacher de mériter ma punition. Mais pourquoi diable me suis-je engagé! Pourquoi ai-je été précisément choisir la cavalerie?

Pourquoi?

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