‘I never said that my regiment was at Genoa. I only asserted that I was,’ was my calm reply, for I was anxious to prolong the conversation, seeing that directly over our heads, on a balcony, a number of officers had just come out to smoke their cigars after dinner, amongst whom I recognised two or three in the uniform of generals.
‘And now for your name; let us have that,’ said he, seating himself, as if for a lengthy cross-examination.
I stole a quick glance overhead, and seeing that two of the officers were eagerly listening to our colloquy, said aloud—
‘I’ll tell you no more, sir. You have already heard quite enough to know what my business is. I didn’t come here to relate my life and adventures.’
‘I say, Lestocque,’ cried a large, burly man, from above, ‘have you picked up Robinson Crusoe, there?’
‘He’s far more like the man Friday, mon général,’ said the young lieutenant, laughing, ‘although even a savage might have more deference for his superiors.’
‘What does he want, then?’ asked the other.
‘An audience of yourself, mon général—nothing less.’
‘Have you told him how I am accustomed to reward people who occupy my time on false pretences, Lestocque?’ said the general, with a grin. ‘Does he know that the “Salle de Police” first, and the “Prévôt” afterwards, comprise my gratitude?’
‘He presumes to say, sir, that he knows General Masséna,’ said the lieutenant.