fly toward the horizon; then, brusquely turning
his eyes to the quarters filled with the strong figures and manly faces
of the young foot-soldiers of the 18th battalion, he said to himself that
among such men, under whatever skies or at whatever distance, one found
his country--glancing aloft where floated above his head the folds of his
flag.

CHAPTER IX

Twenty-three years after the events already recorded, on a cold afternoon
in February, the Bois de Boulogne appeared to be draped in a Siberian
mantle rarely seen at that season. A deep and clinging covering of snow
hid the ground, and the prolonged freezing of the lakes gave absolute
guaranty of their solidity.

A red sun, drowned in mist, threw a mild radiance over the landscape, and
many pedestrians stamped their feet around the borders of the lake
belonging to the Skaters' Club, and watched the hosts of pretty women
descending from their carriages, delighted at the opportunity afforded
them, by this return of winter, to engage in their favorite exercise.

Received on her arrival by one of the attendants posted at the entrance,
each of the fair skaters entered in turn a small building reserved for
ladies, whence she soon came forth in full skating array, ready to risk
herself on the ice, either alone or guided by the hand of some expert
cavalier.

Here and there, around the enclosure, large garden-seats, shaped like
sentry-boxes, were reserved for the mothers and sisters of the members of
the club, so that they could observe, from a comfortable shelter, the
evolutions of those in whom they were interested.

Within two of these nooks, side by side, sat the Duchesse de Montgeron,
president, and the Comtesse Desvanneaux, vice-president of the Charity
Orphan Asylum; the latter had come to look on at the first essay on the
ice of her daughter, Madame de Thomery; the former, to judge the skill of
her brother, General the Marquis de Prerolles, past-master in all
exercises of strength and skill.

At forty-five years of age, the young General had preserved the same
grace and slenderness that had distinguished him when he had first donned
the elegant tunic of an officer of chasseuys. His hair, cut rather short,
had become slightly gray on his temples, but his jaunty moustache and
well-trimmed beard were as yet innocent of a single silver thread. The
same energy shone in his eyes, the same sonority rang in his voice, which
had become slightly more brusque and au