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“It was no doubt very dignified; but I should have done better if I had kept my eyes open. A military man in war time should never consider himself off duty; and especially so if the war is a revolutionary war, when the enemy is not at the door, but within your very house. At such times the heat of passionate convictions passing into hatred, removes the restraints of honour and humanity from many men and of delicacy and fear from some women. These last, when once they throw off the timidity and reserve of their sex, become by the vivacity of their intelligence and the violence of their merciless resentment more dangerous than so many armed giants.”

The General’s voice rose, but his big hand stroked his white beard twice with an effect of venerable calmness. “Si, Senores! Women are ready to rise to the heights of devotion unattainable by us men, or to sink into the depths of abasement which amazes our masculine prejudices. I am speaking now of exceptional women, you understand. . . .”

Here one of the guests observed that he had never met a woman yet who was not capable of turning out quite exceptional under circumstances that would engage her feelings strongly. “That sort of superiority in recklessness they have over us,” he concluded, “makes of them the more interesting half of mankind.”

The General, who bore the interruption with gravity, nodded courteous assent. “Si. Si. Under circumstances. . . . Precisely. They can do an infinite deal of mischief sometimes in quite unexpected ways. For who could have imagined that a young girl, daughter of a ruined Royalist whose life was held only by the contempt of his enemies, would have had the power to bring death and devastation upon two flourishing provinces and cause serious anxiety to the leaders of the revolution in the very hour of its success!” He paused to let the wonder of it penetrate our minds.

“Death and devastation,” somebody murmured in surprise: “how shocking!”

The old General gave a glance in the direction of the murmur and went on. “Yes. That is, war — calamity. But the means by which she obtained the power to work this havoc on our southern frontier seem to me, who have seen her and spoken to her, still more shocking. That particular thing left on my mind a dreadful amazement which the further experience of life, of more than fifty years, has done nothing to diminish.” He looked round as if to make sure of our attention, and, in a changed voice: “I am, as you know, a republican, son of a Liberator,” he declared. “My incomparable mother, God rest her soul, was a French-woman, the daughter of an ardent republican. As a boy I fought for liberty; I’ve always believed in the equality of men; and as to their brotherhood, that, to my mind, is even more certain. Look at the fierce animosity they display in their differences. And what in the world do you know that is more bitterly fierce than brothers’ quarrels?”

All absence of cynicism checked an inclination to smile at this view of human brotherhood. On the contrary, there was in the tone the melancholy natural to a man profoundly humane at heart who from duty, from conviction, and from necessity, had played his part in scenes of ruthless violence.

The General had seen much of fratricidal strife. “Certainly. There is no doubt of their brotherhood,” he insisted. “All men are brothers, and as such know almost too much of each other. But” — and here in the old patriarchal head, white as silver, the black eyes humorously twinkled — “if we are all brothers, all the women are not our sisters.”

One of the younger guests was heard murmuring his satisfaction at the fact. But the General continued, with deliberate earnestness: “They are so different! The tale of a king who took a beggar-maid for a partner of his throne may be pretty enough as we men look upon ourselves and upon love. But that a young girl, famous for her haughty beauty and, only a short time before, the admired of all at the balls in the Viceroy’s palace, should take by the hand a guasso, a common peasant, is intolerable to our sentiment of women and their love. It is madness. Nevertheless it happened. But it must be said that in her case it was the madness of hate — not of love.”