Ratoneau was in a strange state of mind. In his full-dress uniform, his gold lace and plumes, he looked his best, a manly and handsome soldier. Every one turned to look at him, struck by the likeness to Napoleon, stronger than ever that night, for he was graver, quieter, more dignified than usual. He was not at his ease, and oddly enough, the false position suited him. There could not be anything but extreme coolness and stiffness in the greeting between him and his host. Hervé de Sainfoy had refused the man his daughter, and heartily despised him for accepting the formal invitation to this ball. Ratoneau knew that he was going to be forced as a son-in-law on this coldly courteous gentleman, but let no sign of his coming triumph escape him. Not, at least, to Hélène's father; her mother was a different story. As the General drew himself upright again, after bending stiffly to kiss her hand, he met his hostess's eyes with such a bold look of confident understanding that she flushed a little and almost felt displeased. He was not discreet, she thought. He had no business so to take her sympathy for granted. Other people might have caught that glance and misunderstood it. She stood for a moment, frowning a little, the graceful lines of her satin and lace, her head crowned with curls, making a perfect picture of what she meant to be, a great lady of the Empire. Then her look softened suddenly, as Georges came up to her. "Listen to me a moment, mamma. General Ratoneau wishes to dance with Hélène. She told me this afternoon that she would not dance with him. I say she must. What do you say?" Madame de Sainfoy twirled her fan impatiently. "Where is she?" "There." A quadrille was just beginning; the dancers were arranging themselves. The Vicomte des Barres, one of the most strongly declared Royalists present, was leading Mademoiselle de Sainfoy forward. He was familiar with the details of the mission to England, on which the Baron d'Ombré was to start that very night; but not even to him had been confided Angelot's escape and Monsieur Joseph's further plans. He was one of the many guests who had been struck by the heartlessness of the Sainfoys in giving a ball at this moment, but who came to it for reasons of their own. He came with the object of hoodwinking the local police, who were watching him and his friends, of scattering the Chouan party and giving César d'Ombré more chance of a safe and quiet start. The manners, the looks, the talk of Des Barres were all of the old régime. He had its charm, its sympathetic grace; and it was with a feeling of relief and safety that Hélène gave her hand to him for the dance, rather than to one of the young Empire heroes whose eyes were eagerly following her. "Your sister is a fool," said Madame de Sainfoy, very low. "That is my impression," said Georges; and they both gazed for an instant at the couple as they advanced.