I am very busy this morning with
my favourite sow, who has just borne a litter of twelve. She immediately squashed one of them; King Solomon was not such a clever judge as he looked, after all. Au revoir.
CHAPTER XVIII
GENERAL BRAMBLE'S RETURN
"The English have a mild aspect and a ringing, cheerful voice."—Emerson.
"By Jove," said the Infant Dundas, "this Paris of yours is a jolly town."
Beltara the painter had invited Aurelle to spend an evening in his studio to meet General Bramble, who was passing through Paris on his way to Constantinople, accompanied by Dundas and Dr. O'Grady.
The general was sitting on a divan piled high with many-coloured cushions, and gazing with emotion upon the sketch of a nude figure. The Greek heads, Etruscan warriors and Egyptian scribes
about him had the rare and spiritual beauty of mutilated things. Aurelle gazed at his old chief as he sat motionless among the statues, and consecrated the brief moment of silence to the memory of his virtues.
"A fine woman," exclaimed the general, "a very fine woman indeed! What a pity I can't show you a few Soudan negresses, Beltara!"
Beltara interrupted him to introduce one of his friends, Lieutenant Vincent, a gunner with a frank, open face. The general, fixing his clear gaze on Aurelle, tried to speak of France and England.