"
The other officer remonstrated.
"Could you think of it, Colonel Feraud! At this time when every life
should be consecrated to the glory and safety of France!"
But the strain of unhappiness caused by military reverses had spoiled
Colonel Feraud's character. Like many other men he was rendered wicked
by misfortune.
"I cannot consider General D'Hubert's person of any account either
for the glory or safety of France," he snapped viciously. "You don't
pretend, perhaps, to know him better than I do--who have been with him
half a dozen times on the ground--do you?"
His interlocutor, a young man, was silenced. Colonel Feraud walked up
and down the room.
"This is not a time to mince matters," he said. "I can't believe that
that man ever loved the emperor. He picked up his general's stars under
the boots of Marshal Berthier. Very well. I'll get mine in another
fashion, and then we shall settle this business which has been dragging
on too long."
General D'Hubert, informed indirectly of Colonel Feraud's attitude, made
a gesture as if to put aside an importunate person. His thoughts were
solicited by graver cares. He had had no time to go and see his family.
His sister, whose royalist hopes were rising higher every day, though
proud of her brother, regretted his recent advancement in a measure,
because it put on him a prominent mark of the usurper's favour which
later on could have an adverse influence upon his career.
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