had already the air of antique
ghosts, they seemed less substantial in their faded coats than their own
narrow shadows falling so black across the white road--the military and
grotesque shadows of twenty years of war and conquests. They had the
outlandish appearance of two imperturbable bronzes of the religion of
the sword. And General D'Hubert, also one of the ex-masters of Europe,
laughed at these serious phantoms standing in his way.

Said one, indicating the laughing general with a jerk of the head:

"A merry companion that."

"There are some of us that haven't smiled from the day the Other went
away," said his comrade.

A violent impulse to set upon and beat these unsubstantial wraiths to
the ground frightened General D'Hubert. He ceased laughing suddenly.
His urgent desire now was to get rid of them, to get them away from his
sight quickly before he lost control of himself. He wondered at this
fury he felt rising in his breast. But he had no time to look into that
peculiarity just then.

"I understand your wish to be done with me as quickly as possible. Then
why waste time in empty ceremonies. Do you see that wood there at the
foot of that slope? Yes, the wood of pines. Let us meet there to-morrow
at sunrise. I will bring with me my sword or my pistols or both if you
like."

The seconds of General Feraud looked at each other.

"Pistols, general," said the cuirassier.

"So be it. _Au revoir_--to-morrow morning. Till then let me advise you
to keep close if you don't want the _gendarmerie_ making inquiries about
you before dark. Strangers are rare in this part of the country."

They saluted in silence. General D'Hubert, turning his back on their
retreating figures, stood still in the middle of the road for a long
time, biting his lower lip and looking on the ground. Then he began to
walk straight before him, thus retracing his steps till he found himself
before the park gate of his intended's home. Motionless he stared
through the bars at the front of the house gleaming clear beyond the
thickets and trees. Footsteps were heard on the gravel, and presently a
tall stooping shape emerged from the lateral alley following the inner
side of the park wall.

Le Chevalier de Valmassigue, uncle of the adorable Adele, ex-brigadier
in the army of the princes, bookbinder in Altona, afterwards shoemaker
(with a great reputation for elegance in the fit of ladies' shoes) in
another small German town, wore silk stockings