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Updated: October 18, 2025
"Has he come from Vilna?" asked Desiree. "From Vilna oh yes. They are all from Vilna." "And he had no news" persisted she, "of Captain Darragon?" "News oh no! He is a common soldier, and knows nothing of the officers on the staff. We are the same he and I poor animals in the ranks. A little gentleman rides up, all sabretasche and gold lace. It is an officer of the staff.
In the inn yard he indicated with his whip two travelling-carriages standing side by side. "Colonel Darragon is here?" he said to the cringing Jew who came to meet them; and the innkeeper led the way upstairs. The house was a miserable one, evil-smelling, sordid. The Jew pointed to a door, and, cringing again, left them. Desiree made a gesture telling Louis to go in first, which he did at once.
The letter was unsigned, but the writing was the writing of Charles Darragon, and Desiree knew what he had sacrificed what he could never recover. There were two or three more letters addressed to "Dear C.," bearing no signature, and yet written by Charles.
My informant tells me that the escort has deserted, and that the officer in charge, Colonel Darragon, was going on alone, with the two drivers, when he was taken ill. He is nearly well again, and hopes to continue his journey to-morrow or the next day." Desiree nodded her head to signify that she had heard and understood. Barlasch gave a cry of pain, and withdrew his hand with a jerk.
He made a little gesture of annoyance on being told by the servant that Sebastian was out. After a moment's reflection, he seemed to make up his mind to ignore the conventionalities. "It is merely," he said in his friendly and confidential manner to the servant, in perfect German, "that I have news from Monsieur Darragon, the husband of Mademoiselle Desiree. Madame is out you say.
"I, Barlasch of the Guard Marengo, the Danube, Egypt picked up after Borodino a letter like it. I cannot read very quickly indeed Bah! the old Guard needs no pens and paper but that letter I picked up was just like this." "Was it addressed like that to Madame Desiree Darragon?" "So a comrade told me. It is you, her husband?" "Yes," answered Charles, "since you ask; I am her husband."
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