“That is impossible, quite impossible.  There are reasons why Madame la Comtesse should be examined first.  I trust, therefore, she will make an effort.”

“I will try, if you wish it.”  She rose from her chair and walked a few steps rather feebly, then stopped.

“No, no, Countess, do not go,” said Sir Charles, hastily, in English, as he moved across to where she stood and gave her his hand.  “This is sheer cruelty, sir, and cannot be permitted.”

“Stand aside!” shouted M. Flocon; “I forbid you to approach that lady, to address her, or communicate with her.  Guard, advance, do your duty.”

But the guard, although his sword was still out of its sheath, showed great reluctance to move.  He had no desire to try conclusions again with this very masterful person, who was, moreover, a general; as he had seen service, he had a deep respect for generals, even of foreign growth.

Meanwhile the General held his ground and continued his conversation with the Countess, speaking still in English, thus exasperating M. Flocon, who did not understand the language, almost to madness.

“This is not to be borne!” he cried.  “Here, Galipaud, Block;” and when his two trusty assistants came rushing in, he pointed furiously to the General.  “Seize him, remove him by force if necessary.  He shall go to the violon—­to the nearest lock-up.”

The noise attracted also the Judge and the Commissary, and there were now six officials in all, including the guard, all surrounding the General, a sufficiently imposing force to overawe even the most recalcitrant fire-eater.

But now the General seemed to see only the comic side of the situation, and he burst out laughing.

“What, all of you?  How many more?  Why not bring up cavalry and artillery, horse, foot, and guns?” he asked, derisively.  “All to prevent one old man from offering his services to one weak woman!  Gentlemen, my regards!”

“Really, Charles, I fear you are going too far,” said his brother the clergyman, who, however, had been manifestly enjoying the whole scene.

“Indeed, yes.  It is not necessary, I assure you,” added the Countess, with tears of gratitude in her big brown eyes.  “I am most touched, most thankful.  You are a true soldier, a true English gentleman, and I shall never forget your kindness.”  Then she put her hand in his with a pretty, winning gesture that was reward enough for any man.

Meanwhile, the Judge, the senior official present, had learned exactly what had happened, and he now addressed the General with a calm but stern rebuke.

“Monsieur will not, I trust, oblige us to put in force the full power of the law.  I might, if I chose, and as I am fully entitled, commit you at once to Mazas, to keep you in solitary confinement.  Your conduct has been deplorable, well calculated to traverse and impede justice.  But I am willing to believe that you were led away, not unnaturally, as a gallant gentleman,—­it is the characteristic of your nation, of your cloth,—­and that on more mature consideration you will acknowledge and not repeat your error.”