enjoying themselves. But his attention was attracted to a second group
not far away, another soldier of his squad, Maurice Levasseur, who had
been conversing earnestly for near an hour with a civilian, a red-haired
gentleman who was apparently about thirty-six years old, with an
intelligent, honest face, illuminated by a pair of big protruding blue
eyes, evidently the eyes of a near-sighted man. They had been joined by
an artilleryman, a quartermaster-sergeant from the reserves, a knowing,
self-satisfied-looking person with brown mustache and imperial, and the
three stood talking like old friends, unmindful of what was going on
about them.
In the kindness of his heart, in order to save them a reprimand, if not
something worse, Jean stepped up to them and said:
"You had better be going, sir. It is past retreat, and if the lieutenant
should see you--" Maurice did not permit him to conclude his sentence:
"Stay where you are, Weiss," he said, and turning to the corporal,
curtly added: "This gentleman is my brother-in-law. He has a pass from
the colonel, who is acquainted with him."
What business had he to interfere with other people's affairs, that
peasant whose hands were still reeking of the manure-heap? _He_ was a
lawyer, had been admitted to the bar the preceding autumn, had enlisted
as a volunteer and been received into the 106th without the formality
of passing through the recruiting station, thanks to the favor of the
colonel; it was true that he had condescended to carry a musket, but
from the very start he had been conscious of a feeling of aversion and
rebellion toward that ignorant clown under whose command he was.
"Very well," Jean tranquilly replied; "don't blame me if your friend
finds his way to the guardhouse."
Thereon he turned and went away, assured that Maurice had not been
lying, for the colonel, M. de Vineuil, with his commanding, high-bred
manner and thick white mustache bisecting his long yellow face, passed
by just then and saluted Weiss and the soldier with a smile. The colonel
pursued his way at a good round pace toward a farmhouse that was visible
off to the right among the plum trees, a few hundred feet away, where
the staff had taken up their quarters for the night. No one could say
whether the general commanding the 7th corps was there or not; he was
in deep affliction on account of the death of his brother, slain in the
action at Wissembourg. The brigadier, however, Bourgain-Desfeu
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