The commandant,
petrified, returned the paper, countersigned by ministers, which
enjoined all authorities to obey the orders of this mysterious lady.
Having done so, he drew his sword, laid it across his knees, broke the
blade, and flung away the pieces.
"Mademoiselle, you probably know what you are about; but a Republican
has his own ideas, and his own dignity. I cannot serve where women
command. The First Consul will receive my resignation to-morrow;
others, who are not of my stripe, may obey you. I do not understand my
orders and therefore I stop short,--all the more because I am supposed
to understand them."
There was silence for a moment, but it was soon broken by the young
lady, who went up to the commandant and held out her hand, saying,
"Colonel, though your beard is somewhat long, you may kiss my hand;
you are, indeed, a man!"
"I flatter myself I am, mademoiselle," he replied, depositing a kiss
upon the hand of this singular young woman rather awkwardly. "As for
you, friend," he said, threatening the young man with his finger, "you
have had a narrow escape this time."
"Commandant," said the youth, "it is time all this nonsense should
cease; I am ready to go with you, if you like, to headquarters."
"And bring your invisible owl, Marche-a-Terre?"
"Who is Marche-a-Terre?" asked the young man, showing all the signs of
genuine surprise.
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