the season
of sadness would pass away, and the road to fame and honour again open
before me.

'You really think so, Tronchon? You think that I shall be something
yet?'

'_Tu iras loin_, I say,' repeated he emphatically, and with the air of
an oracle who would not suffer further interrogation. I therefore shook
his hand cordially, and set out to pay my visit to the general.

CHAPTER IX. A SCRAPE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

When I reached the quarters of the etat-major, I found the great
courtyard of the 'hotel' crowded with soldiers of every rank and arm of
the service. Some were newly joined recruits waiting for the orders
to be forwarded to their respective regiments, some were invalids
just issued from the hospital, some were sick and wounded on their way
homeward. There were sergeants with their billet-rolls, and returns, and
court-martial sentences. Adjutants with regimental documents hastening
hither and thither. Mounted orderlies, too, continually came and went;
all was bustle, movement, and confusion. Officers in staff uniforms
called out the orders from the different windows, and despatches were
sent off here and there with hot haste. The building was the ancient
palace of the Dukes of Lorraine, and a splendid fountain of white marble
in the centre of the _cour_, still showed the proud armorial bearings of
that princely house. Around the sculptured base of this now were seated
groups of soldiers, their war-worn looks and piled arms contrasting
strangely enough with the great porcelain vases of flowering plants that
still decorated the rich plateau. Shakos, helmets, and greatcoats were
hung upon the orange-trees. The heavy boots of the cuirassier, the white
leather apron of the sapeur, were drying along the marble benches of the
terrace. The richly traceried veining of gilt iron-work, which separated
the court from the garden, was actually covered with belts, swords,
bayonets, and horse-gear, in every stage and process of cleaning. Within
the garden itself, however, all was silent and still--two sentries, who
paced backwards and forwards beneath the grille, showing that the spot
was to be respected by those whose careless gestures and reckless air
betrayed how little influence the mere 'genius of the place' would
exercise over them.

To me the interest of everything was increasing; and whether I lingered
to listen to the raw remarks of the new recruit, in wonder at all he
saw, or stopped to hear the campai