“And pray, sir, to what more honorable use could they put it?”

“Well, this Dujardin was housed by you, was nursed by your wife and all the family; and in return has seduced your sister, my affianced.”

“I can hardly believe that.  Camille Dujardin was always a man of honor, and a good soldier.”

“Colonel, there has been no man near the place but this Dujardin.  I tell you it is he.  Don’t make me tear my bleeding heart out:  must I tell you how often I caught them together, how I suspected, and how she gulled me? blind fool that I was, to believe a woman’s words before my own eyes.  I swear to you he is the villain; the only question is, which of us two is to kill him.”

“Where is the man?”

“In the army of the Rhine.”

“Ah! all the better.”

“Covered with glory and honor.  Curse him! oh, curse him! curse him!”

“I am in luck.  I am going to the Rhine.”

“I know it.  That is why I waited here all through this night of misery.  Yes, you are in luck.  But you will send me a line when you have killed him; will you not?  Then I shall know joy again.  Should he escape you, he shall not escape me.”

“Young man,” said Raynal, with dignity, “this rage is unmanly.  Besides, we have not heard his side of the story.  He is a good soldier; perhaps he is not all to blame:  or perhaps passion has betrayed him into a sin that his conscience and honor disapprove:  if so, he must not die.  You think only of your wrong:  it is natural:  but I am the girl’s brother; guardian of her honor and my own.  His life is precious as gold.  I shall make him marry her.”

“What! reward him for his villany?” cried Edouard, frantically.

“A mighty reward,” replied Raynal, with a sneer.

“You leave one thing out of the calculation, monsieur,” said Edouard, trembling with anger, “that I will kill your brother-in-law at the altar, before her eyes.”

“You leave one thing out of the calculation:  that you will first have to cross swords, at the altar, with me.”

“So be it.  I will not draw on my old commandant.  I could not; but be sure I will catch him and her alone some day, and the bride shall be a widow in her honeymoon.”

“As you please,” said Raynal, coolly.  “That is all fair, as you have been wronged.  I shall make her an honest wife, and then you may make her an honest widow. (This is what they call love, and sneer at me for keeping clear of it.) But neither he nor you shall keep my sister what she is now, a ——­,” and he used a word out of camp.

Edouard winced and groaned.  “Oh! don’t call her by such a name.  There is some mystery.  She loved me once.  There must have been some strange seduction.”

“Now you deceive yourself,” said Raynal.  “I never saw a girl that could take her own part better than she can; she is not like her sister at all in character.  Not that I excuse him; it was a dishonorable act, an ungrateful act to my wife and my mother.”