windows, seemed quite lifeless. When at the end of an
hour the major came out again it appeared to the captain as if he had
only just gone in.

Laguitte was so grimly mute that Burle did not venture to question him.
For a moment they sought each other, groping about in the dark; then
they resumed their walk through the somber streets, where the water
rolled as in the bed of a torrent. They moved on in silence side by
side, the major being so abstracted that he even forgot to swear.
However, as they again crossed the Place du Palais, at the sight of the
Cafe de Paris, which was still lit up, he dropped his hand on Burle's
shoulder and said, "If you ever re-enter that hole I--"

"No fear!" answered the captain without letting his friend finish his
sentence.

Then he stretched out his hand.

"No, no," said Laguitte, "I'll see you home; I'll at least make sure
that you'll sleep in your bed tonight."

They went on, and as they ascended the Rue des Recollets they slackened
their pace. When the captain's door was reached and Burle had taken out
his latchkey he ventured to ask:

"Well?"

"Well," answered the major gruffly, "I am as dirty a rogue as you are.
Yes! I have done a scurrilous thing. The fiend take you! Our soldiers
will eat carrion for three months longer."

Then he explained that Gagneux, the disgusting Gagneux, had a horribly
level head and that he had persuaded him--the major--to strike a
bargain. He would refrain from informing the colonel, and he would
even make a present of the two thousand francs and replace the forged
receipts by genuine ones, on condition that the major bound himself to
renew the meat contract. It was a settled thing.

"Ah," continued Laguitte, "calculate what profits the brute must make
out of the meat to part with such a sum as two thousand francs."

Burle, choking with emotion, grasped his old friend's hands, stammering
confused words of thanks. The vileness of the action committed for his
sake brought tears into his eyes.

"I never did such a thing before," growled Laguitte, "but I was driven
to it. Curse it, to think that I haven't those two thousand francs in
my drawer! It is enough to make one hate cards. It is my own fault. I am
not worth much; only, mark my words, don't begin again, for, curse it--I
shan't."

The captain embraced him, and when he had entered the house the major
stood a moment before the closed door to make certain that he had gone
upstairs to bed. T