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Raynal read this aright, and turned to him, "A droll marriage, my old friend; I'll tell you all about it if ever I have the time. It began with a purchase, general, and ends with with a bequest, which I might as well write now, and so have nothing to think of but duty afterwards. Where can I write?" "Colonel Dujardin will lend you his tent, I am sure." "Certainly."
"Yes, Rose de Beaurepaire Rose Dujardin that ought to be, and that is to be, if you please." "One word, monsieur: is it of Rose we have been talking all this time?" Raynal nearly lost his temper at this question, and the cold, contemptuous tone with which it was put; but he gulped down his ire. "It is," said he. "One question more. Did she tell you I had I had"
We shall not leave that family in tears, Rose in shame, and your child without a name." Dujardin stared at the speaker. What new and devilish deception was this? "My child!" he faltered. "What child?" "Ah," said Raynal, "what a fool I was! That is the first thing I ought to have told you. Poor little fellow!
If ever a man secretly enjoyed risking his life, it is you." "No, general," said Dujardin looking gloomily down; "I enjoy neither that nor anything else. Live or die, it is all one to me; but to the lives of my soldiers I am not indifferent, and never will be while I live. My apparent rashness of last night was pure prudence." Raimbaut's eye twinkled with suppressed irony.
Aubertin went away, and left Dujardin standing there like a statue, his eyes still glued to the ground at his feet.
"I refuse," said Dujardin, hastily; and to tell the truth, not sorry to inflict some pain on the honest soldier who had unintentionally driven the iron so deep into his own soul. "And I," said Raynal, losing his temper, "insist, in the name of my dear Josephine" "Perdition!" snarled Dujardin, losing his self-command in turn. "And of the whole family." "And I tell you I will never marry her.
And, at every shot, the man on horseback made signals to let the gunners know where the shot fell. At last, about four in the afternoon, they threw a forty-eight-pound shot slap into the commander-in-chief's tent, a mile and a half behind trenches. Down comes a glittering aide-de-camp as hard as he can gallop. "Colonel Dujardin, what are you about, sir?
I must be satisfied on one point, or else this marriage shall never take place: just answer me this; if Camille Dujardin stood on one side, and Monsieur Raynal on the other, and both asked your hand, which would you take?" "That will never be. Whose? Not his whom I despise. Esteem might ripen into love, but what must contempt end in?" This reply gave Rose great satisfaction.
Apropos of the burning of the Amazon: M. Dujardin relates, that a fire broke out a short time since in a spinning-mill at Douai. It penetrated to the carding-room; destruction seemed inevitable, and the engines were sent for, when it was proposed to fill the blazing room with steam.
"No doubt!" said he; "no doubt!" The impassive colonel would not notice the other's irony; he went calmly on: "I suspected something; I went to confute, or confirm that suspicion. I confirmed it." Rat! tat! tat! tat! tat! tat! tat! was heard a drum. Relieving guard in the mine. Colonel Dujardin interrupted himself. "That comes apropos," said he. "I expect one proof more from that quarter.
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