“Nobody would dare to say anything of the kind,” the colonel, beginning very fiercely, ended on an uncertain note.  The bravery of Lieutenant D’Hubert was well known; but the colonel was well aware that the duelling courage, the single combat courage, is, rightly or wrongly, supposed to be courage of a special sort; and it was eminently necessary that an officer of his regiment should possess every kind of courage—­and prove it, too.  The colonel stuck out his lower lip and looked far away with a peculiar glazed stare.  This was the expression of his perplexity, an expression practically unknown to his regiment, for perplexity is a sentiment which is incompatible with the rank of colonel of cavalry.  The colonel himself was overcome by the unpleasant novelty of the sensation.  As he was not accustomed to think except on professional matters connected with the welfare of men and horses and the proper use thereof on the field of glory, his intellectual efforts degenerated into mere mental repetitions of profane language. “Mille tonerres!...  Sacre nom de nom...” he thought.

Lieutenant D’Hubert coughed painfully and went on, in a weary voice: 

“There will be plenty of evil tongues to say that I’ve been cowed.  And I am sure you will not expect me to pass that sort of thing over.  I may find myself suddenly with a dozen duels on my hands instead of this one affair.”

The direct simplicity of this argument came home to the colonel’s understanding.  He looked at his subordinate fixedly.

“Sit down, lieutenant,” he said gruffly.  “This is the very devil of a... sit down.”

“Mon colonel” D’Hubert began again.  “I am not afraid of evil tongues.  There’s a way of silencing them.  But there’s my peace of mind too.  I wouldn’t be able to shake off the notion that I’ve ruined a brother officer.  Whatever action you take it is bound to go further.  The inquiry has been dropped—­let it rest now.  It would have been the end of Feraud.”

“Hey?  What?  Did he behave so badly?”

“Yes, it was pretty bad,” muttered Lieutenant D’Hubert.  Being still very weak, he felt a disposition to cry.

As the other man did not belong to his own regiment the colonel had no difficulty in believing this.  He began to pace up and down the room.  He was a good chief and a man capable of discreet sympathy.  But he was human in other ways, too, and they were apparent because he was not capable of artifice.

“The very devil, lieutenant!” he blurted out in the innocence of his heart, “is that I have declared my intention to get to the bottom of this affair.  And when a colonel says something... you see...”

Lieutenant D’Hubert broke in earnestly.

“Let me entreat you, colonel, to be satisfied with taking my word of honour that I was put into a damnable position where I had no option.  I had no choice whatever consistent with my dignity as a man and an officer....  After all, colonel, this fact is the very bottom of this affair.  Here you’ve got it.  The rest is a mere detail....”