n instrument as half a pair
of scissors seemed to turn my stomach. I am sure I might have killed a
dozen with a firelock, a sabre, a bayonet, or any accepted weapon, and
been visited by no such sickness of remorse. And to this feeling every
unusual circumstance of our rencounter, the darkness in which we had
fought, our nakedness, even the resin on the twine, appeared to
contribute. I ran to my fallen adversary, kneeled by him, and could only
sob his name.

He bade me compose myself. "You have given me the key of the fields,
comrade," said he. "_Sans rancune!_"

At this my horror redoubled. Here had we two expatriated Frenchmen
engaged in an ill-regulated combat like the battles of beasts. Here was
he, who had been all his life so great a ruffian, dying in a foreign
land of this ignoble injury, and meeting death with something of the
spirit of a Bayard. I insisted that the guards should be summoned and a
doctor brought. "It may still be possible to save him," I cried.

The sergeant-major reminded me of our engagement. "If you had been
wounded," said he, "you must have lain there till the patrol came by and
found you. It happens to be Goguelat--and so must he! Come, child, time
to go to by-by." And as I still resisted, "Champdivers!" he said, "this
is weakness. You pain me."

"Ay, off to your beds with you!" said Goguelat, and named us in a
company with one of his jovial gross epithets.

Accordingly the squad lay down in the dark and simulated, what they
certainly were far from experiencing, sleep. It was not yet late. The
city, from far below, and all around us, sent up a sound of wheels and
feet and lively voices. Yet awhile, and the curtain of the cloud was
rent across, and in the space of sky between the eaves of the shed and
the irregular outline of the ramparts a multitude of stars appeared.
Meantime, in the midst of us lay Goguelat, and could not always withhold
himself from groaning.

We heard the round far off; heard it draw slowly nearer. Last of all,
it turned the corner and moved into our field of vision: two file of men
and a corporal with a lantern, which he swung to and fro, so as to cast
its light in the recesses of the yards and sheds.

"Hullo!" cried the corporal, pausing as he came by Goguelat.

He stooped with his lantern. All our hearts were flying.

"What devil's work is this?" he cried, and with a startling voice
summoned the guard.

We were all afoot upon the instant; more lanterns and