Dupin swung round. “Colonel Lopez,” he ordered savagely, “you will turn your prisoner over to Sergeant Ney, at once, sir! Open your mouth, you dog, and every Dragooning dandy of a Mexican among you––”
The Tiger’s pistols were drawn. His whelps looked hopeful. The cuirassiers bristled in sympathy.
Cracking his finger nails, fawning to the marrow, Lopez agreed.
“Unbind the prisoner,” ordered Dupin.
“Thank God!” came faintly from the bed.
238CHAPTER XXIX
The Whisper of the Sphinx
“La politique, première des sciences inexactes.”
–Emile Augier.
Jacqueline had divined in Bazaine another obstacle to her mission. And yet it seemed preposterous that he should not be her staunchest ally, since Napoleon had found a marshal’s baton for him in his knapsack, just as he had transformed his own policeman’s club into a sceptre. Nevertheless Jacqueline had her doubts, and they were homage to her sex. In other words, she returned to Mexico to find that His Excellency had married again.