“All of the three. General,” said the chef, bowing obsequiously.
“Let him have his brevet,—to date from to-day. Who are his friends?”
A whispered answer replied to this inquiry.
“Indeed!” said the first speaker; “reason the more we should take care of him. Monsieur,” continued he, turning towards me, “to-morrow you shall have your epaulettes. Never forget how you gained them; and remember ever that every grade in the service is within the reach of a brave man who does his duty.”
So saying, he passed on, while, overcome by emotion, I could not speak or move.
“There, he is much better now,” said a soft voice near me; “you see his color is coming back.”
I looked up, and there were two ladies standing beside me. The elder was tall and elegantly formed; her figure, which in itself most graceful, looked to its full advantage by the splendor of her dress; there was an air of stateliness in her manner, which had seemed hauteur were it not for a look of most benevolent softness that played about her mouth whenever she spoke. The younger, who might in years have seemed her daughter, was in every respect unlike her: she was slight and delicately formed; her complexion and her black eyes, shaded by a long dark fringe, bespoke the Provençal; her features were beautifully regular, and when at rest completely Greek in their character, but each moment some chance word, some passing thought, implanted a new expression, and the ever-varying look of her flashing eyes and full round lips played between a smile and that arch spirit that essentially belongs to the fair daughters of the South. It was not until my fixed gaze had brought a deep blush to her cheek, that I felt how ardently I had been looking at her.
“Yes, yes,” said she, hurriedly, “he's quite well now;” and at the same moment she made a gesture of impatience to pass on. But the elder held her arm close within her own, as she whispered, with something of half malice, “But stay, Marie; I should like to hear his name. Ah,” cried she, starting in affected surprise, “how flushed you are! there must be something in the air here, so we had better proceed.” And with a soft smile and a courteous motion of her hand, she passed on.
I looked after them as they went. A strange odd feeling stirred within my heart,—a kind of wild joy, with a mingled sense of hope too vague to catch at. I watched the drooping feather of her bonnet, and the folds of her dress as they fluttered in the wind; and when she disappeared from my sight, I could scarce believe that she was not still beside me, and that lier dark eyes did not look into my very soul. But already my companions crowded about me, and amid a hundred warm congratulations and kind wishes, I took my way back to the college.
Scarcely was breakfast over the following morning, when the order arrived for my removal from the scholar quarter of the Polytechnique to that occupied by the cadets. A small tricolored cockade affixed to my hat was the only emblem of my new rank; but simple as it was, no decoration ever attracted more envy and admiration from the beholders, nor gave more pride to the wearer, than that knot of ribbon.