“But, commandant,” said Merle, laughing, “I have seen the tip-end of the nose of the young lady, and I’ll declare the whole world needn’t be ashamed to feel an itch, as I do, to revolve round that carriage and get up a bit of a conversation.” “Look out, Merle,” said Gerard; “the veiled beauties have a man accompanying them who seems wily enough to catch you in a trap.” “Who? that _incroyable_ whose little eyes are ferretting from one side of the road to the other, as if he saw Chouans? The fellow seems to have no legs; the moment his horse is hidden by the carriage, he looks like a duck with its head sticking out of a pate. If that booby can hinder me from kissing the pretty linnet--” “‘Duck’! ‘linnet’! oh, my poor Merle, you have taken wings indeed! But don’t trust the duck. His green eyes are as treacherous as the eyes of a snake, and as sly as those of a woman who forgives her husband. I distrust the Chouans much less than I do those lawyers whose faces are like bottles of lemonade.” “Pooh!” cried Merle, gaily. “I’ll risk it--with the commandant’s permission. That woman has eyes like stars, and it’s worth playing any stakes to see them.” “Caught, poor fellow!” said Gerard to the commandant; “he is beginning to talk nonsense!” Hulot made a face, shrugged his shoulders, and said: “Before he swallows the soup, I advise him to smell it.” “Bravo, Merle,” said Gerard, “judging by his friend’s lagging step that he meant to let the carriage overtake him. Isn’t he a happy fellow? He is the only man I know who can laugh over the death of a comrade without being thought unfeeling.” “He’s the true French soldier,” said Hulot, in a grave tone. “Just look at him pulling his epaulets back to his shoulders, to show he is a captain,” cried Gerard, laughing,--“as if his rank mattered!” The coach toward which the officer was pivoting did, in fact, contain two women, one of whom seemed to be the servant of the other. “Such women always run in couples,” said Hulot.