ost unusual occurrence.

"Do go in," she said to Laguitte; "it is bad for him to sleep so much."

And before he could interpose she had opened the door and stood
transfixed on finding the room empty. Laguitte turned crimson and looked
so foolish that she suddenly understood everything, enlightened by
the sudden recollection of several little incidents to which she had
previously attached no importance.

"You knew it--you knew it!" she stammered. "Why was I not told? Oh, my
God, to think of it! Ah, he has been stealing again--I feel it!"

She remained erect, white and rigid. Then she added in a harsh voice:

"Look you--I wish he were dead!"

Laguitte caught hold of both her hands, which for a moment he kept
tightly clasped in his own. Then he left her hurriedly, for he felt a
lump rising in his throat and tears coming to his eyes. Ah, by all the
powers, this time his mind was quite made up.

CHAPTER IV

INSPECTION

The regimental inspection was to take place at the end of the month.
The major had ten days before him. On the very next morning, however,
he crawled, limping, as far as the Cafe de Paris, where he ordered some
beer. Melanie grew pale when she saw him enter, and it was with a lively
recollection of a certain slap that Phrosine hastened to serve him. The
major seemed very calm, however; he called for a second chair to rest
his bad leg upon and drank his beer quietly like any other thirsty man.
He had sat there for about an hour when he saw two officers crossing the
Place du Palais--Morandot, who commanded one of the battalions of the
regiment, and Captain Doucet. Thereupon he excitedly waved his cane and
shouted: "Come in and have a glass of beer with me!"

The officers dared not refuse, but when the maid had brought the beer
Morandot said to the major: "So you patronize this place now?"

"Yes--the beer is good."

Captain Doucet winked and asked archly: "Do you belong to the divan,
Major?"

Laguitte chuckled but did not answer. Then the others began to chaff
him about Melanie, and he took their remarks good-naturedly, simply
shrugging his shoulders. The widow was undoubtedly a fine woman, however
much people might talk. Some of those who disparaged her would, in
reality, be only too pleased to win her good graces. Then turning to the
little counter and assuming an engaging air, he shouted:

"Three more glasses, madame."

Melanie was so taken aback that she rose and brought the beer her