in the south of France. And so far the sentiments expressedwould not have been disowned by Colonel Feraud who wrote no letters toanybody; whose father had been in life an illiterate blacksmith; who hadno sister or brother, and whom no one desired ardently to pair off for alife of peace with a charming young girl. But Colonel D'Hubert's lettercontained also some philosophical generalities upon the uncertainty ofall personal hopes if bound up entirely with the prestigious fortune ofone incomparably great, it is true, yet still remaining but a man inhis greatness. This sentiment would have appeared rank heresy toColonel Feraud. Some melancholy forebodings of a military kind expressedcautiously would have been pronounced as nothing short of high treasonby Colonel Feraud. But Leonie, the sister of Colonel D'Hubert, read themwith positive satisfaction, and folding the letter thoughtfully remarkedto herself that "Armand was likely to prove eventually a sensiblefellow." Since her marriage into a Southern family she had become aconvinced believer in the return of the legitimate king. Hopeful andanxious she offered prayers night and morning, and burned candles inchurches for the safety and prosperity of her brother.
She had every reason to suppose that her prayers were heard. ColonelD'Hubert passed through Lutzen, Bautzen, and Leipsic, losing no limbsand acquiring additional reputation. Adapting his conduct to the needsof that desperate time, he had never voiced his misgivings. He concealedthem under a cheerful courtesy of such pleasant character that peoplewere inclined to ask themselves with wonder whether Colonel D'Hubertwas aware of any disasters. Not only his manners but even his glancesremained untroubled. The steady amenity of his blue eyes disconcertedall grumblers, silenced doleful remarks, and made even despair pause.
This bearing was remarked at last by the emperor himself, for ColonelD'Hubert, attached now to the Major-General's staff, came on severaloccasions under the imperial eye. But it exasperated the higher strungnature of Colonel Feraud. Passing through Magdeburg on service this lastallowed himself, while seated gloomily at dinner with the _Commandantde Place_, to say of his lifelong adversary: "This man does not lovethe emperor,"--and as his words were received in profound silence ColonelFeraud, troubled in his conscience at the atrocity of the aspersion,felt the need to back it up by a good argument. "I ought to know him,"he said, adding some oaths. "One studies one's adversary. I have met himon the ground half a dozen times, as all the army knows. What more doyou want? If that isn't opportunity enough for any fool to size up hisman, may the devil take me if I can tell what is." And he looked aroundthe table with sombre obstinacy.
Later on, in Paris, while feverishly busy reorganising his regiment,Colonel Feraud learned that Colonel D'Hubert had been made a general. Heglared at his informant incredulously, then folded his arms and turnedaway muttering:
"Nothing surprises me on the part of that man."
And aloud he added, speaking over his shoulder: "You would greatlyoblige me by telling General D'Hubert at the first opportunity that hisadvancement saves him for a time from a pretty hot encounter. I was onlywaiting for him to turn up here."
The other officer remonstrated.
"Could you think of it, Colonel Feraud! At this time when every lifeshould be consecrated to the glory and safety of France!"
But the strain of unhappiness caused by military reverses had spoiledColonel Feraud's character. Like many other men he was rendered wickedby misfortune.
"I cannot consider General D'Hubert's person of any account eitherfor the glory or safety of France," he snapped viciously. "You don'tpretend, perhaps, to know him better than I do--who have been with himhalf a dozen times on the ground--do you?"
His interlocutor, a young man, was silenced. Colonel Feraud walked upand down the room.
"This is not a time to mince matters," he said. "I can't believe thatthat man ever loved the emperor. He picked up his general's stars underthe boots of Marshal Berthier. Very well. I'll get mine in anotherfashion, and then we shall settle this business which has been draggingon too long."
General D'Hubert, informed indirectly of Colonel Feraud's attitude, madea gesture as if to put aside an importunate person. His thoughts weresolicited by graver cares. He had had no time to go and see his family.His sister, whose royalist hopes were rising higher every day, thoughproud of her brother, regretted his recent advancement in a measure,because it put on him a prominent mark of the usurper's favour whichlater on could have an adverse influence upon his career. He wroteto her that no one but an inveterate enemy could say he had got hispromotion by favour. As to his career he assured her that he looked nofarther forward into the future than the next battlefield.
Beginning the campaign of France in that state of mind, General D'Hubertwas wounded on the second day of the battle under Laon. While beingcarried off the field he heard that Colonel Feraud, promoted that momentto general, had been sent to replace him in the command of his brigade.He cursed his luck impulsively, not being able, at the first glance,to discern all the advantages of a nasty wound. And yet it was by thisheroic method that Providence was shaping his future. Travelling slowlysouth to his sister's country house, under the care of a trusty oldservant, General D'Hubert was spared the humiliating contacts and theperplexities of conduct which assailed the men of the Napoleonic empireat the moment of its downfall. Lying in his bed with the windows of hisroom open wide to the sunshine of Provence, he perceived at last theundisguised aspect of the blessing conveyed by that jagged fragment ofa Prussian shell which, killing his horse and ripping open his thigh,saved him from an active conflict with his conscience. After fourteenyears spent sword in hand in the saddle and strong in the sense of hisduty done to the end, General D'Hubert found resignation an easy virtue.His sister was delighted with his reasonableness. "I leave myselfaltogether in your hands, my dear Leonie," he had said.
He was still laid up when, the credit of his brother-in-law's familybeing exerted on his behalf, he received from the Royal Government notonly the confirmation of his rank but the assurance of being retained onthe active list. To this was added an unlimited convalescent leave.The unfavourable opinion entertained of him in the more irreconcilableBonapartist circles, though it rested on nothing more solid than theunsupported pronouncement of General Feraud, was directly responsiblefor General D'Hubert's retention on the active list. As to GeneralFeraud, his rank was confirmed, too. It was more than he dared toexpect, but Marshal Soult, then Minister of War to the restored king,was partial to officers who had served in Spain. Only not even themarshal's protection could secure for him active employment. He remainedirreconcilable, idle and sinister, seeking in obscure restaurants thecompany of other half-pay officers, who cherished dingy but gloriousold tricolour cockades in their breast pockets, and buttoned with theforbidden eagle buttons their shabby uniform, declaring themselves toopoor to afford the expense of the prescribed change.
The triumphant return of the emperor, a historical fact as marvellousand incredible as the exploits of some mythological demi-god, foundGeneral D'Hubert still quite unable to sit a horse. Neither could hewalk very well. These disabilities, which his sister thought most lucky,helped her immensely to keep her brother out of all possible mischief.His frame of mind at that time, she noted with dismay, became very farfrom reasonable. That general officer, still menaced by the loss of alimb, was discovered one night in the stables of the chateau by a groomwho, seeing a light, raised an alarm of thieves. His crutch was lyinghalf buried in the straw of the litter, and he himself was hopping onone leg in a loose box around a snorting horse he was trying tosaddle. Such were the effects of imperial magic upon an unenthusiastictemperament and a pondered mind. Beset, in the light of stable lanterns,by the tears, entreaties, indignation, remonstrances and reproaches ofhis family, he got out of the difficult situation by fainting away thereand then in the arms of his nearest relatives, and was carried off tobed. Before he got out of it again the second reign of Napoleon, theHundred Days of feverish agitation and supreme effort passed away like aterrifying dream. The tragic year 1815, begun in the trouble and unrestof consci
ences, was ending in vengeful proscriptions.
How General Feraud escaped the clutches of the Special Commission andthe last offices of a firing squad, he never knew himself. It was partlydue to the subordinate position he was assigned during the Hundred Days.He was not given active command but was kept busy at the cavalry depotin Paris, mounting and despatching hastily drilled troopers into thefield. Considering this task as unworthy of his abilities, he dischargedit with no offensively noticeable zeal. But for the greater part hewas saved from the excesses of royalist reaction by the interference ofGeneral D'Hubert.
This last, still on convalescent leave but able now to travel, had beendespatched by his sister to Paris to present himself to his legitimatesovereign. As no one in
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