excitement as he would have found in walking up to a battery
vomiting death, fire, and smoke, then stood looking down with smiling
eyes at the girl whose marriage with him (next week) had been so
carefully arranged by the wise, the good, the admirable Leonie.

"Ah, mademoiselle," he said in a tone of courtly deference. "If I could
be certain that you did not come here this morning only from a sense of
duty to your mother!"

He waited for an answer, imperturbable but inwardly elated. It came in a
demure murmur, eyelashes lowered with fascinating effect.

"You mustn't be _mechant_ as well as mad."

And then General D'Hubert made an aggressive movement towards the divan
which nothing could check. This piece of furniture was not exactly in
the line of the open door. But Madame Leonie, coming back wrapped up in
a light cloak and carrying a lace shawl on her arm for Adele to hide
her incriminating hair under, had a vague impression of her brother
getting-up from his knees.

"Come along, my dear child," she cried from the doorway.

The general, now himself again in the fullest sense, showed the
readiness of a resourceful cavalry officer and the peremptoriness of a
leader of men.

"You don't expect her to walk to the carriage," he protested. "She isn't
fit. I will carry her downstairs."

This he did slowly, followed by his awed and respectful sister. But he
rushed back like a whirlwind to wash away all the signs of the night of
anguish and the morning of war, and to put on the festive garments of a
conqueror before hurrying over to the other house. Had it not been for
that, General D'Hubert felt capable of mounting a horse and pursuing his
late adversary in order simply to embrace him from excess of happiness.
"I owe this piece of luck to that stupid brute," he thought. "This duel
has made plain in one morning what might have taken me years to find
out--for I am a timid fool. No self-confidence whatever. Perfect coward.
And the Chevalier! Dear old man!" General D'Hubert longed to embrace
him, too.

The Chevalier was in bed. For several days he was much indisposed. The
men of the empire, and the post-revolution young ladies, were too much
for him. He got up the day before the wedding, and being curious by
nature, took his niece aside for a quiet talk. He advised her to find
out from her husband the true story of the affair of honour, whose claim
so imperative and so persistent had led her to within an ace of tragedy.