"
And aloud he added, speaking over his shoulder, "You would oblige me
greatly by telling General D'Hubert at the first opportunity that his
advancement saves him for a time from a pretty hot encounter. I was only
waiting for him to turn up here."
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 existence 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--I who have met 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 the 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.
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