A Man in Uniform Read Online Free PDF

out.
    “But surely, Madame, you were not yet born …”
    “No, but my father fought the Germans, and then he had to fight the Socialists to stop them from taking over his own country. Just imagine what Paris would be like today if those Communards hadn’t been defeated. It would be anarchy.”
    “Ah yes. Just imagine.” Dubon winced at the thought of how she might react if she knew his past. He had not only defended the Communards as a lawyer. During the brief, heady days of the Commune, as a young student with radical sympathies, he had run messages for them too. The leaders allowed each separate ward in the city to weigh in on every decision; swift young messengers were in high demand. He had done his bit—more than his bit—he would have been jailed had he been caught, but he had successfully disappeared back into his parents’ house when the crackdown began. His involvement was his little secret; only a few old comrades knew, and Geneviève and Masson, of course, who tolerated his past. Well, perhaps
tolerate
was too generous a word: they were prepared to ignore it and keep his secret. He would pay a heavy social price if anyone in the Fiteaus’ circle identified him as a former Communard.
    “If we are ever going to win back Alsace and Lorraine from the Germans …” Madame Verry continued.
    “I couldn’t agree with you more,” Dubon repeated, as he wondered how long this particular dance would last.
    As he guided Madame Verry down the room, he glanced back enviously at Masson, who had somehow succeeded in keeping his dancecard blank and was sitting with their host. General Fiteau, his large form overflowing the cane chair designed to hold the lithe figures of the debutantes, looked out at the dancers but did not seem to see them, as though distracted by whatever his companion had to say. Masson sat erect on the chair next to him and his trimmer physique with its square shoulders seemed to dominate the general’s. The baron had always been tall and he had filled out with age; the gangly young Masson was now quite an impressive specimen, Dubon realized with some surprise.
    Masson angled his torso slightly toward the general, offering advice or urging his opinion on the man. How assiduously Masson courted the military set, Dubon noted. If the diplomat who had graced the salons of Berlin and St. Petersburg felt Madame Verry and her ilk were beneath him, he certainly did not show it. Masson now gestured toward a couple who floated by as though to make some point and the general nodded almost sadly in agreement.
    As Dubon watched them, he caught a movement in the corner of his eye. At the far end of the room, the little door in the paneling of the salon had opened slightly and a head now peeked out. It was the pimply young Fiteau. He peered about anxiously as though seeking someone. He then turned his head over his shoulder, as though a person in the room behind him had spoken, and quickly withdrew behind the little door.

    Finally, the music stopped and Dubon could release Madame Verry, bowing effusively. She was scooped up again by Madame Fiteau and a relieved Dubon sank into the background, happily remembering that he was unpartnered for the next dance. He looked around, pondering his next social move, and noticed one of his brothers-in-law entering the ballroom from the salon. It was Major Pierre de Ronchaud Valcourt, Geneviève’s older brother and eldest of her five siblings, resplendent in the blue tunic and red trousers of his regimental dress. He was a cavalry officer and held a position that kept him happily in Paris or in the provinces, drinking and card-playing with his colleagues when not exercising his horse. He had failed to inherit any of the military genius that had made his father so successful, but since the family hadalso failed to inherit any of the land historically associated with the Valcourt name, he had decided to follow his father into the army to supplement his share of the family