Chevalier was in bed. For several days he was much indisposed. Themen of the empire, and the post-revolution young ladies, were too muchfor him. He got up the day before the wedding, and being curious bynature, took his niece aside for a quiet talk. He advised her to findout from her husband the true story of the affair of honour, whose claimso imperative and so persistent had led her to within an ace of tragedy."It is very proper that his wife should know. And next month or sowill be your time to learn from him anything you ought to know, my dearchild."
Later on when the married couple came on a visit to the mother of thebride, Madame la Generale D'Hubert made no difficulty in communicatingto her beloved old uncle what she had learned without any difficultyfrom her husband. The Chevalier listened with profound attention to theend, then took a pinch of snuff, shook the grains of tobacco off thefrilled front of his shirt, and said calmly: "And that's all what itwas."
"Yes, uncle," said Madame la Generale, opening her pretty eyes verywide. "Isn't it funny? _C'est insense_--to think what men are capableof."
"H'm," commented the old _emigre_. "It depends what sort of men. ThatBonaparte's soldiers were savages. As a wife, my dear, it is proper foryou to believe implicitly what your husband says."
But to Leonie's husband the Chevalier confided his true opinion."If that's the tale the fellow made up for his wife, and during thehoneymoon, too, you may depend on it no one will ever know the secret ofthis affair."
Considerably later still, General D'Hubert judged the time come, and theopportunity propitious to write a conciliatory letter to General Feraud."I have never," protested the General Baron D'Hubert, "wished for yourdeath during all the time of our deplorable quarrel. Allow me to giveyou back in all form your forfeited life. We two, who have been partnersin so much military glory, should be friendly to each other publicly."
The same letter contained also an item of domestic information. It wasalluding to this last that General Feraud answered from a little villageon the banks of the Garonne:
"If one of your boy's names had been Napoleon, or Joseph, or evenJoachim, I could congratulate you with a better heart. As you havethought proper to name him Charles Henri Armand I am confirmed in myconviction that you never loved the emperor. The thought of that sublimehero chained to a rock in the middle of a savage ocean makes life of solittle value that I would receive with positive joy your instructions toblow my brains out. From suicide I consider myself in honour debarred.But I keep a loaded pistol in my drawer."
Madame la Generale D'Hubert lifted up her hands in horror after perusingthat letter.
"You see? He won't be reconciled," said her husband. "We must take carethat he never, by any chance, learns where the money he lives on comesfrom. It would be simply appalling."
"You are a _brave homme_, Armand," said Madame la Generaleappreciatively.
"My dear, I had the right to blow his brains out--strictly speaking.But as I did not we can't let him starve. He has been deprived of hispension for 'breach of military discipline' when he broke bounds tofight his last duel with me. He's crippled with rheumatism. We arebound to take care of him to the end of his days. And, after all, Iam indebted to him for the radiant discovery that you loved me alittle--you sly person. Ha! Ha! Two miles, running all the way!... It isextraordinary how all through this affair that man has managed to engagemy deeper feelings."
THE END
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