“C’est ca!” she said, with an ethereal smile, disclosing a set of large teeth.  “Come this evening to plead for your forgiveness.”

“I will not fail, madame.”

Meantime Lieutenant Feraud, splendid in his new dolman and the extremely polished boots of his calling, sat on a chair within a foot of the couch and, one hand propped on his thigh, with the other twirled his moustache to a point without uttering a sound.  At a significant glance from D’Hubert he rose without alacrity and followed him into the recess of a window.

“What is it you want with me?” he asked in a tone of annoyance, which astonished not a little the other.  Lieutenant D’Hubert could not imagine that in the innocence of his heart and simplicity of his conscience Lieutenant Feraud took a view of his duel in which neither remorse nor yet a rational apprehension of consequences had any place.  Though Lieutenant Feraud had no clear recollection how the quarrel had originated (it was begun in an establishment where beer and wine are drunk late at night), he had not the slightest doubt of being himself the outraged party.  He had secured two experienced friends or his seconds.  Everything had been done according to the rules governing that sort of adventure.  And a duel is obviously fought for the purpose of someone being at least hurt if not killed outright.  The civilian got hurt.  That also was in order.  Lieutenant Feraud was perfectly tranquil.  But Lieutenant D’Hubert mistook this simple attitude for affectation and spoke with some heat.

“I am directed by the general to give you the order to go at once to your quarters and remain there under close arrest.”

It was now the turn of Lieutenant Feraud to be astonished.

“What the devil are you telling me there?” he murmured faintly, and fell into such profound wonder that he could only follow mechanically the motions of Lieutenant D’Hubert.  The two officers—­one tall, with an interesting face and a moustache the colour of ripe corn, the other short and sturdy, with a hooked nose and a thick crop of black, curly hair—­approached the mistress of the house to take their leave.  Madame de Lionne, a woman of eclectic taste, smiled upon these armed young men with impartial sensibility and an equal share of interest.  Madame de Lionne took her delight in the infinite variety of the human species.  All the eyes in the drawing-room followed the departing officers, one strutting, the other striding, with curiosity.  When the door had closed after them one or two men who had already heard of the duel imparted the information to the sylphlike ladies, who received it with little shrieks of humane concern.

Meantime the two hussars walked side by side, Lieutenant Feraud trying to fathom the hidden reason of things which in this instance eluded the grasp of his intellect; Lieutenant D’Hubert feeling bored by the part he had to play; because the general’s instructions were that he should see personally that Lieutenant Feraud carried out his orders to the letter and at once.