“Yes, it is a changed France,” said General D'Hubert. He had regained his calm. His tone was slightly ironic. “Therefore, I cannot take your advice. Besides, how is one to refuse to be bitten by a dog that means to bite? It's impracticable. Take my word for it. He isn't a man to be stopped by apologies or refusals. But there are other ways. I could, for instance, send a mounted messenger with a word to the brigadier of the _gendarmerie_ in Senlac. These fellows are liable to arrest on my simple order. It would make some talk in the army, both the organised and the disbanded. Especially the disbanded. All _canaille_. All my comrades once--the companions in arms of Armand D'Hubert. But what need a D'Hubert care what people who don't exist may think? Or better still, I might get my brother-in-law to send for the mayor of the village and give him a hint. No more would be needed to get the three 'brigands' set upon with flails and pitchforks and hunted into some nice deep wet ditch. And nobody the wiser! It has been done only ten miles from here to three poor devils of the disbanded Red Lancers of the Guard going to their homes. What says your conscience, Chevalier? Can a D'Hubert do that thing to three men who do not exist?” A few stars had come out on the blue obscurity, clear as crystal, of the sky. The dry, thin voice of the Chevalier spoke harshly. “Why are you telling me all this?” The general seized a withered, frail old hand with a strong grip. “Because I owe you my fullest confidence. Who could tell Adèle but you? You understand why I dare not trust my brother-in-law nor yet my own sister. Chevalier! I have been so near doing these things that I tremble yet. You don't know how terrible this duel appears to me. And there's no escape from it.” He murmured after a pause, “It's a fatality,” dropped the Chevalier's passive hand, and said in his ordinary conversational voice: “I shall have to go without seconds. If it is my lot to remain on the ground, you at least will know all that can be made known of this affair.” The shadowy ghost of the _ancien régime_ seemed to have become more bowed during the conversation. “How am I to keep an indifferent face this evening before those two women?” he groaned. “General! I find it very difficult to forgive you.” General D'Hubert made no answer. “Is your cause good at least?” “I am innocent.” This time he seized the Chevalier's ghostly arm above the elbow, gave it a mighty squeeze. “I must kill him,” he hissed, and opening his hand strode away down the road.