coolness in the world, joined a knot of persons engaged in discussing
the duel, and endeavoring, by sundry clever and ingenious explanations,
to account for the circumstance.

As I sauntered along to my quarters, I pondered over the adventure and
the character of the chevalier; and however I might turn the matter in
my mind, one thought was ever uppermost,--a sincere wish that I had not
been made his confidant in the secret.

CHAPTER XII. THE RETURN OF THE WOUNDED

A few mornings after this occurrence, when, as Duchesne himself
prophesied, all memory of it was completely forgotten, the _ordre du
jour_ from the Tuileries commanded all the troops then garrisoned in
Paris to be under arms at an early hour in the Champs Elysees, when the
Emperor would pass them in review. The spectacle had, however, another
object, which was not generally known. The convoys of the wounded from
Austerlitz were that same day to arrive at Paris, and the display of
troops was intended at once to honor this _entree_, and give to the sad
procession of the maimed and dying the semblance of a triumph. Such were
the artful devices which ever ministered to the deceit of the nation,
and suffered them to look on but one side of their glory.

As I anticipated, the chevalier was greatly out of temper at the
whole of this proceeding. He detested nothing more than those military
displays which are got up for the populace; he despised the exhibition
of troops to the vulgar and unmeaning criticism of tailors and barbers;
and, more than all, he shrank from the companionship of the National
Guard of Paris,--those shop-keeping soldiers, with their umbrellas and
spectacles, who figured with such pride on these occasions.

"Another affair like this," said he, passionately, "and I'd resign my
commission. A procession at the Porte St. Martin,--the _boeuf gras_ on
Easter Monday,--I'm your man for either: but to sit bolt upright on your
saddle for three, maybe four hours; to be stared at by every _bourgeois_
from the Rue du Bac; to be pointed at with pink parasols and compared
with some ribbon-vender of the Boulevards,--_par Saint Louis!_ I can't
even bear to think of it! Look yonder," said he, pointing to the court
of the Palace, where already a regiment was drawn up under arms,
and passing in inspection before the colonel; "there begins the
dress-rehearsal already. His Majesty says mid-day; the generals of
division draw out their men at eleven o'clock; the