‘Let the poor fellow have some refreshment,’ cried one. ‘Here, take this, it’s coffee.’ ‘No, no, the _petite goutte_ is hotter--try that flask.’ ‘He shall have my chocolate,’ said an old major, from the door of a café; and thus they pressed and solicited me with a generosity that I had yet to learn how dear it cost. ‘He ought to be dressed’; ‘He should be in uniform’; ‘Is better as he is’; ‘The general will not speak to him thus’; ‘He will’; ‘He must.’ Such, and such like, kept buzzing around me, as with reeling brain and confused vision they bore me up the great steps, and carried me into a gorgeous church, the most splendidly ornamented building I had ever beheld. Except, however, in the decorations of the ceiling, and the images of saints which figured in niches high up, every trace of a religious edifice had disappeared. The pulpit had gone--the chairs and seats for the choir, the confessionals, the shrines, altars--all had been uprooted, and a large table, at which some twenty officers were seated writing, now occupied the elevated platform of the high altar, while here and there stood groups of officers, with their reports from their various corps or parties in out-stations. Many of these drew near to me as I entered, and now the buzz of voices in question and rejoinder swelled into a loud noise; and while some were recounting my feat with all the seeming accuracy of eye-witnesses, others were as resolutely protesting it all to be impossible. Suddenly the tumult was hushed, the crowd fell back, and as the clanking muskets proclaimed ‘a salute,’ a whispered murmur announced the ‘general.’ I could just see the waving plumes of his staff, as they passed up; and then, as they were disappearing in the distance, they stopped, and one hastily returned to the entrance of the church. ‘Where is this fellow? let me see him,’ cried he hurriedly, brushing his way through the crowd. ‘Let him stand down; set him on his legs.’ ‘He is too weak, _capitaine_,’ said a soldier. ‘Place him in a chair, then,’ said the aide-de-camp, for such he was. ‘You have made your escape from the English fleet, my man?’ continued he, addressing me. ‘I am an officer, and your comrade,’ replied I proudly; for with all my debility, the tone of his address stung me to the quick. ‘In what service, pray?’ asked he, with a sneering look at my motley costume. ‘Your general shall hear where I have served, and how, whenever he is pleased to ask me,’ was my answer. ‘Ay, _parbleu!_, cried three or four _sous-officiers_ in a breath, ‘the general shall see him himself.’