The Captain stumbled into the room, swearing afresh.
'SACRE NOM DU DIABLE!' he cried, his face crimson with rage.

'What fool placed these things here?
My boots?
My--' His jaw fell.

He stopped on the word, stricken silent by the new aspect of the room, by the sight of the little party at the table, by all the changes I had worked.
'SAINT SIEGE!' he muttered.

'What is this ?' The Lieutenant's grizzled face peering over his shoulder completed the picture.
'You are rather late, M.le Capitaine,' I said cheerfully.

'Madame's hour is eleven.