“Remember,” he said, admonishingly; “less cloister, more city!”
Some hours later, the old lady, dressed in her heavy silk and brocade and with snow-white hair done up in imposing fashion, rapped on Constance’s door, but received no answer. Knocking again, with like result, she entered the room, discovering the young girl on the bed, her cheeks tinted like the rose, her eyes with no gleam of recognition in them, and her lips moving, uttering snatches of old plays. Taking her hand, the old lady found it hot and dry.
“Bless me!” she exclaimed. “She is down with a fever.” And at once prepared a simple remedy which soon silenced the babbling lips in slumber, after which she sent for the doctor.
CHAPTER VI
THE COUNCIL OF WAR
“Adjutant, tell Colonel Saint-Prosper I wish to see him.”
The adjutant saluted and turned on his heel, while General Scott bent over the papers before him, studying a number of rough pencil tracings. Absorbed in his task, the light of two candles on the table brought into relief, against the dark shadows, a face of rugged character and marked determination. Save for a slight contraction of the brow, he gave no evidence of the mental concentration he bestowed upon the matter in hand, which was to lead to the culmination of the struggle and to vindicate the wisdom and boldness of his policy.
“You sent for me, General?”