Part 10 (1/2)
”Ha, ha, those barracks where they expect to make soldiers in dormitories,” said the veteran, whose aversion for officers trained in that nursery was insurmountable. ”To what arm do you belong?”
”I am in the navy.”
”Ha!” cried Hulot, smiling vindictively, ”how many of your fellow-students are in the navy? Don't you know,” he added in a serious tone, ”that none but the artillery and the engineers graduate from there?”
The young man was not disconcerted.
”An exception was made in my favor, on account of the name I bear,” he answered. ”We are all naval men in our family.”
”What is the name of your family, citizen?” asked Hulot.
”Du Gua Saint-Cyr.”
”Then you were not killed at Mortagne?”
”He came very near being killed,” said Madame du Gua, quickly; ”my son received two b.a.l.l.s in-”
”Where are your papers?” asked Hulot, not listening to the mother.
”Do you propose to read them?” said the young man, cavalierly; his blue eye, keen with suspicion, studied alternately the gloomy face of the commandant and that of Mademoiselle de Verneuil.
”A stripling like you to pretend to fool me! Come, produce your papers, or-”
”La! la! citizen, I'm not such a babe as I look to be. Why should I answer you? Who are you?”
”The commander of this department,” answered Hulot.
”Oh, then, of course, the matter is serious; I am taken with arms in my hand,” and he held a gla.s.s full of Bordeaux to the soldier.
”I am not thirsty,” said Hulot. ”Come, your papers.”
At that instant the rattle of arms and the tread of men was heard in the street. Hulot walked to the window and gave a satisfied look which made Mademoiselle de Verneuil tremble. That sign of interest on her part seemed to fire the young man, whose face had grown cold and haughty. After feeling in the pockets of his coat he drew forth an elegant portfolio and presented certain papers to the commandant, which the latter read slowly, comparing the description given in the pa.s.sport with the face and figure of the young man before him. During this prolonged examination the owl's cry rose again; but this time there was no difficulty whatever in recognizing a human voice. The commandant at once returned the papers to the young man, with a scoffing look.
”That's all very fine,” he said; ”but I don't like the music. You will come with me to headquarters.”
”Why do you take him there?” asked Mademoiselle de Verneuil, in a tone of some excitement.
”My good lady,” replied the commandant, with his usual grimace, ”that's none of your business.”
Irritated by the tone and words of the old soldier, but still more at the sort of humiliation offered to her in presence of a man who was under the influence of her charms, Mademoiselle de Verneuil rose, abandoning the simple and modest manner she had hitherto adopted; her cheeks glowed and her eyes shone as she said in a quiet tone but with a trembling voice: ”Tell me, has this young man met all the requirements of the law?”
”Yes-apparently,” said Hulot ironically.
”Then, I desire that you will leave him, apparently, alone,” she said. ”Are you afraid he will escape you? You are to escort him with me to Mayenne; he will be in the coach with his mother. Make no objection; it is my will-Well, what?” she added, noticing Hulot's grimace; ”do you suspect him still?”
”Rather.”
”What do you want to do with him?”
”Oh, nothing; balance his head with a little lead perhaps. He's a giddy-pate!” said the commandant, ironically.