"Look at the signature."
"Louis-Auguste, Duc de Maine!"
"Well, what is there astonishing in that? As grand master of artillery, he has the nomination of twelve regiments. He gives you one to replace that which was taken from you, and, as your general, he sends you on a mission. Is it customary for soldiers in such a case to refuse the honor their chief does them in thinking of them? I am a churchman, and do not know."
"No, no, my dear abbe. It is, on the contrary, the duty of every officer of the king to obey his chief."
"Besides which," replied Brigaud, negligently, "in case the conspiracy failed, you would only have obeyed orders, and might throw the whole responsibility of your actions on another."
"Abbe!" cried D'Harmental, a second time.
"Well, if you do not go, I shall make you feel the spur."
"Yes, I am going. Excuse me, but there are some moments when I am half mad. I am now at the orders of Monsieur de Maine, or, rather, at those of Madame. May I not see her before I go, to fall at her feet, and tell her that I am ready to sacrifice my life at a word from her?"
"There, now, you are going into the opposite extreme; but no, you must not die; you must live—live to triumph over our enemies, and wear a beautiful uniform, with which you will turn all the women's heads."
"Oh, my dear Brigaud, there is but one I wish to please."