rushed from the building in consternation to see what damage
had been done. Did they mean to burn his house down over his head?
What did it all mean? Why did they open fire again when the Emperor had
ordered that it should cease?

"Thunder and lightning! Stir yourselves, will you!" Bouroche shouted
to his staff, who were standing about with pallid faces, transfixed by
terror. "Wash off the table; go and bring me in number three!"

They cleansed the table; and once more the crimson contents of the
buckets were hurled across the grass plot upon the bed of daisies, which
was now a sodden, blood-soaked mat of flowers and verdure. And Bouroche,
to relieve the tedium until the attendants should bring him "number
three," applied himself to probing for a musket-ball, which, having
first broken the patient's lower jaw, had lodged in the root of
the tongue. The blood flowed freely and collected on his fingers in
glutinous masses.

Captain Beaudoin was again resting on his mattress in the large room.
Gilberte and Mme. Delaherche had followed the stretcher when he was
carried from the operating table, and even Delaherche, notwithstanding
his anxiety, came in for a moment's chat.

"Lie here and rest a few minutes, Captain. We will have a room prepared
for you, and you shall be our guest."

But the wounded man shook off his lethargy and for a moment had command
of his faculties.

"No, it is not worth while; I feel that I am going to die."

And he looked at them with wide eyes, filled with the horror of death.

"Oh, Captain! why do you talk like that?" murmured Gilberte, with a
shiver, while she forced a smile to her lips. "You will be quite well a
month hence."

He shook his head mournfully, and in the room was conscious of no
presence save hers; on all his face was expressed his unutterable
yearning for life, his bitter, almost craven regret that he was to be
snatched away so young, leaving so many joys behind untasted.

"I am going to die, I am going to die. Oh! 'tis horrible--"

Then suddenly he became conscious of his torn, soiled uniform and the
grime upon his hands, and it made him feel uncomfortable to be in the
company of women in such a state. It shamed him to show such weakness,
and his desire to look and be the gentleman to the last restored to
him his manhood. When he spoke again it was in a tone almost of
cheerfulness.

"If I have got to die, though, I would rather it should be with clean
hands. I should