Now Brochet was the surname of a certain fascinating cocotte.  “Well,” said the good mayor paternally, “I should like to speak to M. Brochet.”

“That’s me!” shouted the same hundred individuals at once.  Then there was a shout of “Long live Jaquin!” and the worthy man was carried round in triumph, while the fair ladies hastened to exert their blandishments upon the gendarmes.  How could anybody be angry?  The representatives of law and order fraternised with those of—­the other thing! and it all ended in smoke!

So much for our evenings.  In the daytime there was hunting.  Everybody followed in merry parties, on horseback, in carriages, or on foot, to the sound of the horns of the red coated piqueurs of the Orleans family hunt.  The whole thing was full of “go,” and I remember seeing one very pretty woman, out of patience with the slowness of her carriage, entreat a friend to lend her his horse, and start off on it astride, not in her riding habit, but in ordinary outdoor costume.  The fair lady’s name was Lola Montes, and she later on attained some considerable celebrity in the kingdom of Bavaria.

After this fashion the lovely month of May was spent.  But June brought me more serious occupation.  I was appointed to the command of a squadron ordered to the coasts of the Empire of Morocco, where we were on the brink of important events, affecting alike the consolidation of our Algerian conquests and our relations with other Great Powers Driven to extremity by the blow given to his prestige by the capture of his smalah, Abd-el-Kadir was playing a last and desperate card.  He had once more kindled all the Mussulman fanaticism and hatred of the foreign invader against us We had to fight in every direction.  While my brother Aumale had several sharp engagements, in one of which my younger brother, Montpensier, was wounded, on the Constantine side of the country, General Bugeaud was carrying on a daily struggle with the warlike tribes of the Province of Oran.  These tribes, whenever they were repulsed, crossed the River Moulouia, which was the frontier line of Morocco, at which our troops had to stop short on account of European susceptibilities, and thus escaped all chastisement.

The enemy concluded, from the cessation of our pursuit, either that we did not dare to brave the displeasure of the Emperor of Morocco, or else that the European Powers, and especially the Power whose flag floated over Gibraltar, protected the soil of that empire from any violation.  It thus became a sort of citadel, whence any attempt on us might safely be made without fear of reprisals.  There were consequently perpetual irruptions into our territory, not only of the fanatic Moorish element, but, covertly, of the Emperor of Morocco’s own troops, whom he had massed, on pretence of keeping watch, close to our frontier, and in the long run these attacks, which had to be ceaselessly repulsed at the cost of precious lives, had grown