“It is exactly because I have served that I do make the request,” said I, stoutly.
“How so, pray?” asked he, staring at me.
“Because I know well how often young staff-officers, in their own self-sufficiency, overlook the most important points, and, from the humble character
of their informants, frequently despise what their superiors, had they known it, would have largely profited by. And, even if I did not know this fact, I have the memory of another one scarcely less striking, which was, that General Massena himself admitted me to an audience when my appearance was not a whit more imposing than at present.”
“You knew General Massena, then. Where was it, may I ask?”
“In Genoa, during the siege.”
“And what regiment have you served in?”
“The Ninth Hussars.”
“Quite enough, my good fellow. The Ninth were on the Sambre while that siege was going on,” said he, laughing sarcastically.
“I never said that my regiment was at Genoa. I only asserted that I was,” was my calm reply, for I was anxious to prolong the conversation, seeing that directly over our heads, on a balcony, a number of officers had just come out to smoke their cigars after dinner, among whom I recognized two or three in the uniform of general.