"Do not deprive me of all
hope," he murmured.
She made no answer, and understanding her silence, he was about to
retire when the door suddenly opened and a servant announced:
"Monsieur de Fondege."
Mademoiselle Marguerite touched the magistrate on the shoulder to
attract his attention. "This gentleman is M. de Chalusse's friend
whom I sent for this morning."
At the same moment a man who looked some sixty years of age
entered the room. He was very tall, and as straight as the letter
I, being arrayed in a long blue frock-coat, while his neck, which
was as red and as wrinkled as that of a turkey-cock, was encased
in a very high and stiff satin cravat. On seeing his ruddy face,
his closely cropped hair, his little eyes twinkling under his
bushy eyebrows, and his formidable mustaches a la Victor Emmanuel,
you would have immediately exclaimed: "That man is an old
soldier!"
A great mistake! M. de Fondege had never been in the service, and
it was only in mockery of his somewhat bellicose manners and
appearance that some twenty years previously his friends had
dubbed him "the General." However, the appellation had clung to
him. The nickname had been changed to a title, and now M. de
Fondege was known as "the General" everywhere. He was invited and
announced as "the General." Many people believed that he had
really been one, and perhaps he fancied so himself, for he had
long been in the habit of inscribing "General A.
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