Whilst the general was talking with Clara, I examined the apartment, which had been Madame Le Clerc's dressing-room.
The sofas and curtains were of blue sattin with silver fringe. A door, which stood open, led into the bedchamber. The canopy of the bed was in the form of a shell, from which little cupids descending held back with one hand, curtains of white sattin trimmed with gold, and pointed with the other to a large mirror which formed the tester. On a table, in the form of an altar, which stood near the bed, was an alabaster figure representing silence, with a finger on its lips, and bearing in its hand a waxen taper.
The first thing we heard on our return was that a soldier, sent by St. Louis, had enquired for Clara, and not finding her, had returned immediately to the camp.
She was distressed beyond measure, and exclaimed, "I had better go forever, for St. Louis will kill me!"
I endeavoured to console her, though I felt that her apprehensions were not groundless. She passed the night in agony, and awaited the return of her husband in the most painful agitation.
At ten the next morning he arrived, having left his post without orders, and thus exposed himself to all the rigours of a court-martial.
He was trembling with rage, transported with fury, and had more the air of a demon than a man.
I know your conduct madam, he cried, on entering, you left the house contrary to my desire; but I shall find means of punishing you, and of covering with shame the monster who has sought to destroy me!
He seized her by the arm, and dragging her into a little dressing-room at the end of the gallery, locked her in, and, taking the key in his pocket, went to the government house, and without waiting till the officers in the antichamber announced him, entered the room where the general was alone, reclining on a sofa, who arose, and approaching him familiarly said, "St. Louis, I am glad to see you, and was just thinking of you; but did not know that you had been relieved."