"You have a magnificent drum-major there," said Morgan; "I congratulate you upon him."
Garat smiled. It was not the first time that this mistake had been made, either voluntarily or involuntarily.
"That is not our drum-major," he said, "it is our commander, General Cartaux."
"Ah! the devil! He is the man who might have taken Toulon, and who, instead, allowed it to be captured by a little artillery officer named—what was his name, anyhow?—named Bonaparte, I believe. Ah! introduce me to this worthy officer; I adore handsome men and particularly handsome uniforms."
"Willingly," said Garat; and they advanced toward General Cartaux.
"General," said Garat to the colossus in uniform, "I have the honor to present to you the citizen-president of the Section Le Peletier, who has not only courteously made way for me through his men, but who has accompanied me thus far lest any mishap should befall me."
"Citizen," said Cartaux, drawing himself up in order not to lose an inch of his height, "I join with citizen-conventional Garat in thanking you."
"There is no necessity to do so, general," said Morgan, with his accustomed courtesy. "I saw you from a distance and wished to make your acquaintance. Besides, I wished to ask you whether you did not think it would be well for you to yield me this post, as you did the other, without bloodshed."
"Is that a jest or a proposition?" asked Cartaux, his coarse voice growing louder.