She shook her head.
“So much the worse for him,” continued Lieutenant D'Hubert, in a tone of anxious conviction. “But he has been home this morning?”
This time the pretty maid nodded slightly.
“He has!” cried Lieutenant D'Hubert. “And went out again? What for? Couldn't he keep quietly indoors? What a lunatic! My dear child....”
Lieutenant D'Hubert's natural kindness of disposition and strong sense of comradeship helped his powers of observation, which generally were not remarkable. He changed his tone to a most insinuating softness; and gazing at the hussar's breeches hanging over the arm of the girl, he appealed to the interest she took in Lieutenant Feraud's comfort and happiness. He was pressing and persuasive. He used his eyes, which were large and fine, with excellent effect. His anxiety to get hold at once of Lieutenant Feraud, for Lieutenant Feraud's own good, seemed so genuine that at last it overcame the girl's discretion. Unluckily she had not much to tell. Lieutenant Feraud had returned home shortly before ten; had walked straight into his room and had thrown himself on his bed to resume his slumbers. She had heard him snore rather louder than before far into the afternoon. Then he got up, put on his best uniform and went out. That was all she knew.
She raised her candid eyes up to Lieutenant D'Hubert, who stared at her incredulously.
“It's incredible. Gone parading the town in his best uniform! My dear child, don't you know that he ran that civilian through this morning? Clean through as you spit a hare.”
She accepted this gruesome intelligence without any signs of distress. But she pressed her lips together thoughtfully.
“He isn't parading the town,” she remarked, in a low tone. “Far from it.”
“The civilian's family is making an awful row,” continued Lieutenant D'Hubert, pursuing his train of thought. “And the general is very angry. It's one of the best families in the town. Feraud ought to have kept close at least....”