“Ten years, occupying different positions, with intervals of service in the regiments. We have never ceased being exploited by other nations, with a skill, an audacity, and a perseverance, against which all our efforts have been in vain. The most important captures have always been effected by women. Accordingly, when the servant of General de Trémont spoke of this nocturnal lady-visitor, my suspicions were immediately aroused.” “Explain yourself.” “It is not the first time, General, that we have had to deal with this mysterious woman, who comes and passes away, leaving ruin and bloodshed in her train. Her manner of procedure is always the same: she fixes her mind on some one whom she knows to be in a position to give up to her some important secret or other, then she seduces him, until, in the end, he betrays it. Then, she casts him off, like useless _débris_. A creature to be dreaded, if I may judge by the results she has already obtained, and a powerful corruptress. No heart is proof against her alluring temptations. She artfully graduates the doses of her love-philtre; and the noblest minds, the most upright consciences, and the staunchest courage bend and capitulate at a sign from her. Do you remember the ill-fated Commandant Cominges, who blew out his brains, without anything being publicly known as to the reason? The woman had come along. Cominges had become her slave. A part of our mobilization had become known. Before killing himself, Cominges swore that the documents had been stolen from his dwelling, whilst he was absent with this woman. He had made the grave mistake of taking them from the office to work on them, and the still graver one of saying that they were in his possession. But the poor fellow had confidence in her. He was a man of honour, a gallant soldier. A pistol-shot settled the whole matter.” “What was the woman’s name?” “Madame Ferranti. She took most careful precautions in seeing Cominges, presumably on account of her family. One of our agents, however, was acquainted with her. Within six months he died by an accident. He was, one evening, travelling by rail from Auteuil. They found him dead under a tunnel. Doubtless he had leaned out too far from the carriage.” “The deuce!” “The following year the young Captain Fontenailles, a fine young fellow we were all fond of, was induced by a woman, whom his comrades called the ‘Ténébreuse,’ because no one of them ever saw her, to disclose certain confidences. Understanding the gravity of his conduct, he went to his superior and confessed everything. The latter succeeded in repairing the damage done by changing the key to the secret writings. Captain Fontenailles left for Tonkin, where he fell, fighting bravely, at the attack of Bae-Ninh. His fault was atoned for.” “And the woman is always the same?”