Yes, it was certainly Raynal, only bronzed by service in some hot country.

“Ah!” thought Camille; “I suppose I am more changed than he is; for he certainly did not recognize me at all.  Now I wonder what that fellow has been doing all this time.  What a hurry he was in! a moment more and I should have hailed him.  Perhaps I may fall in with him at the next town.”

He touched his horse with the spur, and cantered gently on, for trotting shook him more than he could bear.  Even when he cantered he had to press his hand against his bosom, and often with the motion a bitterer pang than usual came and forced the water from his eyes; and then he smiled.  His great love and his high courage made this reply to the body’s anguish.  And still his eyes looked straight forward as at some object in the distant horizon, while he came gently on, his hand pressed to his bosom, his head drooping now and then, smiling patiently, upon the road to Beaurepaire.

Oh! if anybody had told him that in five days his Josephine was to be married; and that the bronzed comrade, who had just galloped past him, was to marry her!

At Beaurepaire they were making and altering wedding-dresses.  Rose was excited, and even Josephine took a calm interest.  Dress never goes for nothing with her sex.  The chairs and tables were covered, and the floor was littered.  The baroness was presiding over the rites of vanity, and telling them what she wore at her wedding, under Louis XV., with strict accuracy, and what we men should consider a wonderful effort of memory, when the Commandant Raynal came in like a cannon-ball, without any warning, and stood among them in a stiff, military attitude.  Exclamations from all the party, and then a kind greeting, especially from the baroness.

“We have been so dull without you, Jean.”

“And I have missed you once or twice, mother-in-law, I can tell you.  Well, I have got bad news; but you must consider we live in a busy time.  To-morrow I start for Egypt.”

Loud ejaculations from the baroness and Rose.  Josephine put down her work quietly.

The baroness sighed deeply, and the tears came into her eyes.  “Oh, you must not be down-hearted, old lady,” shouted Raynal.  “Why, I am as likely to come back from Egypt as not.  It is an even chance, to say the least.”

This piece of consolation completed the baroness’s unhappiness.  She really had conceived a great affection for Raynal, and her heart had been set on the wedding.

“Take away all that finery, girls,” said she bitterly; “we shall not want it for years.  I shall not be alive when he comes home from Egypt.  I never had a son—­only daughters—­the best any woman ever had; but a mother is not complete without a son, and I shall never live to have one now.”

“I hate General Bonaparte,” said Rose viciously.

“Hate my general?” groaned Raynal, looking down with a sort of superstitious awe and wonder at the lovely vixen.  “Hate the best soldier the world ever saw?”