Unluckily she had not much to tell. Lieut. Feraud had returned
home shortly before ten, had walked straight into his room, and had
thrown himself on his bed to resume his slumbers. She had heard him
snore rather louder than before far into the afternoon. Then he got up,
put on his best uniform, and went out. That was all she knew.
She raised her eyes, and Lieut. D'Hubert stared into them incredulously.
"It's incredible. Gone parading the town in his best uniform! My dear
child, don't you know he ran that civilian through this morning? Clean
through, as you spit a hare."
The pretty maid heard the gruesome intelligence without any signs of
distress. But she pressed her lips together thoughtfully.
"He isn't parading the town," she remarked in a low tone. "Far from it."
"The civilian's family is making an awful row," continued Lieut.
D'Hubert, pursuing his train of thought. "And the general is very angry.
It's one of the best families in the town. Feraud ought to have kept
close at least--"
"What will the general do to him?" inquired the girl, anxiously.
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