His knock at the door was answered instantly by a young maid in Alsatian costume.  Her fresh complexion and her long eyelashes, lowered demurely at the sight of the tall officer, caused Lieut.  D’Hubert, who was accessible to esthetic impressions, to relax the cold, severe gravity of his face.  At the same time he observed that the girl had over her arm a pair of hussar’s breeches, blue with a red stripe.

“Lieut.  Feraud in?” he inquired, benevolently.

“Oh, no, sir!  He went out at six this morning.”

The pretty maid tried to close the door.  Lieut.  D’Hubert, opposing this move with gentle firmness, stepped into the ante-room, jingling his spurs.

“Come, my dear!  You don’t mean to say he has not been home since six o’clock this morning?”

Saying these words, Lieut.  D’Hubert opened without ceremony the door of a room so comfortably and neatly ordered that only from internal evidence in the shape of boots, uniforms, and military accoutrements did he acquire the conviction that it was Lieut.  Feraud’s room.  And he saw also that Lieut.  Feraud was not at home.  The truthful maid had followed him, and raised her candid eyes to his face.

“H’m!” said Lieut.  D’Hubert, greatly disappointed, for he had already visited all the haunts where a lieutenant of hussars could be found of a fine afternoon.  “So he’s out?  And do you happen to know, my dear, why he went out at six this morning?”

“No,” she answered, readily.  “He came home late last night, and snored.  I heard him when I got up at five.  Then he dressed himself in his oldest uniform and went out.  Service, I suppose.”

“Service?  Not a bit of it!” cried Lieut.  D’Hubert.  “Learn, my angel, that he went out thus early to fight a duel with a civilian.”

She heard this news without a quiver of her dark eyelashes.  It was very obvious that the actions of Lieut.  Feraud were generally above criticism.  She only looked up for a moment in mute surprise, and Lieut.  D’Hubert concluded from this absence of emotion that she must have seen Lieut.  Feraud since the morning.  He looked around the room.

“Come!” he insisted, with confidential familiarity.  “He’s perhaps somewhere in the house now?”

She shook her head.

“So much the worse for him!” continued Lieut.  D’Hubert, in a tone of anxious conviction.  “But he has been home this morning.”

This time the pretty maid nodded slightly.

“He has!” cried Lieut.  D’Hubert.  “And went out again?  What for?  Couldn’t he keep quietly indoors!  What a lunatic!  My dear girl—­”