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Conrad, Joseph, 1857-1924

"A Set of Six"

For the present he should only ask for the name
of General D'Hubert's friends.
"What friends?" said the astonished General D'Hubert, completely off the
track. "I am staying with my brother-in-law over there."
"Well, he will do for one," said the chipped veteran.
"We're the friends of General Feraud," interjected the other, who had
kept silent till then, only glowering with his one eye at the man who
had never loved the Emperor. That was something to look at. For even
the gold-laced Judases who had sold him to the English, the marshals
and princes, had loved him at some time or other. But this man had never
loved the Emperor. General Feraud had said so distinctly.
General D'Hubert felt an inward blow in his chest. For an infinitesimal
fraction of a second it was as if the spinning of the earth had become
perceptible with an awful, slight rustle in the eternal stillness
of space. But this noise of blood in his ears passed off at once.
Involuntarily he murmured, "Feraud! I had forgotten his existence."
"He's existing at present, very uncomfortably, it is true, in the
infamous inn of that nest of savages up there," said the one-eyed
cuirassier, drily.


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