ll before
it," said Urbain.

CHAPTER XII

HOW THE PREFECT'S DOG SNAPPED AT THE GENERAL

The shadows were lengthening when Urbain de la Mariniere at last left
the General's hotel, and walked thoughtfully across the square, past the
Prefecture, down the street to find his carriage.

He had resisted the temptation of dining with the officers and playing
cards afterwards, though he by no means disliked either a game of chance
or a good dinner. It seemed to him that he had done as much in Madame de
Sainfoy's interests as she could reasonably expect. Though there might
be worse men, General Ratoneau could not be called a pleasant companion.
His loud voice and swaggering manners could not be agreeable to a person
of Monsieur Urbain's measured mind and self-controlled ways. He was a
type, and in that way interesting. The strange likeness to his master
lent him a touch of character, almost of distinction, neither of which
really belonged to him; yet, somehow, by a certain appeal to the
imagination, it made him a just possible husband for a girl of good
family. Not a gentleman, or anything like one; yet not quite the
ordinary _bourgeois_. Considering the times, it appeared to Urbain that
his cousin de Sainfoy need not be actually ashamed of such a son-in-law.
Anyhow, he had done his best to further the matter, with an earnest
recommendation to the General to keep his name out of the affair.

"Why not?" said Ratoneau. "You only reminded me of what I knew before.
In fact, it was through me you heard of it. I startled your brother with
it; our dear Prefect would never have said a word on the subject--ha,
ha! So I owe you no gratitude, monsieur. You have done nothing."

"Ah, but just a little gratitude, if you please," said Urbain, smiling.
"Enough to shut your ears to any reports that may reach you about my
brother Joseph."

Ratoneau looked at him sharply, and frowned.

"I can make no bargains as to my duty, monsieur. Let your brother be
loyal."

"I do my utmost to make him so," said Urbain, still smiling, and they
parted.

"He is right--the man is right--and by heaven, I respect him!" Urbain
said to himself as he crossed the square.

Passing near the great gate of the Prefecture, he noticed a police
officer loitering on the pavement, whose dark, keen, discontented face
seemed not unknown to him.

As Urbain came nearer, this man raised his hand to his cap, and spoke
with an impudent grin.

"Monsieur de la M