"Milles diables!" muttered the chevalier, in a startled tone. "Who speaks with these accents? Ma foi! I want the eclaircissement."
The door grudgingly opened, and a pretty quadroon girl looked out.
"Bring your mistress," ordered St. Udo.
She fearfully retreated, leaving the door open, and rushed up a broad staircase, down which was wafted the hurried tones of a terrified consultation.
Then she reappeared and conducted the officers into a magnificent drawing-room assuring them that her mistress would see them in a few moments.
"Machere, whose house is this?" demanded the chevalier.
"Colonel Estvan's," whispered the quadroon.
"Where is he?" asked St. Udo, sharply.
She turned pale.
"Pouf! do not affright this pretty one," interposed the gallant chevalier. "Monsieur Estvan is fighting like the devil against the Northerners, is he not, pauvrette?"