“_Ma foi!_ yes. The 'coup' was mortal; he never stirred after. As for me,” continued Francois, “I surrendered myself a prisoner to the officer on guard at the gate. I was tried ten days after by a military commission, and acquitted. My own evidence was my accusation and my defence.” “_Ventrebleu!_ had I been on the court-martial, you had not been here to tell the story,” said the old major, as his face became almost purple with passion. “Nonsense!” said Tascher, jeeringly. “What signifies a maître d'armes the more or the less?” “Monsieur will probably explain himself,” said François, with one of his cold smiles of excessive deference. “It is exactly what I mean to do, François.” “Come, sirs, none of this,” broke in the major. “Lieutenant Tascher, you may not fancy being placed under an arrest when the enemy is in the field. Master Francois, do you forget the sentence of a court-martial is hanging over your head for an affair at Elchingen, where you insulted a young officer of the hussars?” “In that case I must be permitted to say that Maître François conducted himself like a man of honor,” said I. “_Parbleu!_ and got the worst of it besides,” cried he, placing his hand on his hip. The tone of his voice as he said this, and the grimace he made, restored the party once more to good-humor, and we chatted away pleasantly till day was breaking. As Tascher strolled along with me towards my quarters, I was rejoiced to discover that he had never heard of my name as being mixed up in the Chouan conspiracy; nor was he aware with how little reason he believed me to be favored by fortune. I received, however, all his congratulations without any desire to undeceive him. Already had I learned the worldly lesson, that while friends cling closer in adversity, your mere acquaintance deems your popularity your greatest merit; and I at length perceived that, however ungenial in many respects the companionship, the life of isolation I led had rendered me suspected by others, and in a career, too, where frankness was considered the first of virtues. I assented at once with pleasure to the prospect of our meeting frequently while in camp. My own regiment had joined Davoust's corps, and I was glad to have the society of some others of my own age, if only to wean myself from my habits of solitude. While I formed these plans for the future, I little anticipated what events were in store for me, nor how soon I should be thrown among scenes and people totally different from those with which I had ever mixed before. “You mess with us, then, Burke,--that's agreed,” said Tascher. “They 're excellent fellows, these cuirassiers of ours, and I know you 'll like them.” With this promise we parted, hoping to meet on the morrow. CHAPTER VI. THE MILL ON THE HOLITSCH ROAD