De Rône's sharp command broke the thread of my thoughts, and ended all chance of escape. We set spurs to our horses and splashed through the ford of the Oise, a half mile from the outpost. On the other bank a picket challenged, and, giving them the word, we rode in the direction of the even white line of the camp. A few strides more and we reined in at the door of the General's tent. The guard presented arms and I received a brief order to dismount and follow de Rône.
I entered the tent, and stood patiently whilst he walked backwards and forwards for a little time. Suddenly he stopped and, facing me, said,
'Well, M. d'Auriac?'
'It could not be helped, your Excellency,' I stammered.
'You said that of de Gonnor, and promised it should never occur again——'
'But there were circumstances——'
'Pshaw!' he exclaimed, 'I guess them all—wine—dice—women. One of the prisoners was a woman. I saw you pick up that knot of ribbon. There is no excuse—Croix Dieu! None.'
'I had the honour to be the first man behind your Excellency at the storm of Laon,' I said, with a happy recollection.
'And saved my life, you were going to say,' he cut in. I bowed, and de Rône began again to pace up and down, tugging at his short pointed beard. I was determined to seize the three hairs occasion offered, and continued:
'And that was after M. de Gonnor's unfortunate accident.'