There was a certain retired lawyer of Normandy. He lived in the little
town of B——-, where a regiment of the chasseurs of Cantal were
garrisoned. A fascinating officer of this regiment had fallen in love
with the wife of this pettifogger, and the regiment was leaving before
the two lovers had been able to enjoy the least privacy. It was the
fourth military man over whom the lawyer had triumphed. As he left the
dinner-table one evening, about six o’clock, the husband took a walk on
the terrace of his garden from which he could see the whole country
side. The officers arrived at this moment to take leave of him.
Suddenly the flame of a conflagration burst forth on the horizon.
“Heavens! La Daudiniere is on fire!” exclaimed the major. He was an old
simple-minded soldier, who had dined at home. Every one mounted horse.
The young wife smiled as she found herself alone, for her lover, hidden
in the coppice, had said to her, “It is a straw stack on fire!” The
flank of the husband was turned with all the more facility in that a
fine courser was provided for him by the captain, and with a delicacy
very rare in the cavalry, the lover actually sacrificed a few moments
of his happiness in order to catch up with the cavalcade, and return in
company with the husband.
Marriage is a veritable duel, in which persistent watchfulness is
required in order to triumph over an adversary; for, if you are unlucky
enough to turn your head, the sword of the celibate will pierce you
through and through.