"I'll
find out presently that I am alive yet," he declared, in a dogmatic
tone. "However, this is a private affair. An old affair of honour. Bah!
Our honour does not matter. Here we are driven off with a split ear like
a lot of cast troop horses--good only for a knacker's yard. But it
would be like striking a blow for the Emperor. . . . Messieurs, I shall
require the assistance of two of you."
Every man moved forward. General Feraud, deeply touched by this
demonstration, called with visible emotion upon the one-eyed veteran
cuirassier and the officer of the Chasseurs a Cheval who had left the
tip of his nose in Russia. He excused his choice to the others.
"A cavalry affair this--you know."
He was answered with a varied chorus of "Parfaitement, mon General
. . . . C'est juste. . . . Parbleu, c'est connu. . . ." Everybody was
satisfied. The three left the cafe together, followed by cries of "Bonne
chance."
Outside they linked arms, the general in the middle. The three rusty
cocked hats worn en bataille with a sinister forward slant barred the
narrow street nearly right across.
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