place, and run the risk of finding it taken by somebody else,
for all the lives of this heap of heroes were at stake. So out I go.
I turn the corner of the barn and come upon a great devil of a
Wurtemberger, who was tugging at the beam with a certain enthusiasm.
'Aho! aho!' I shouted, trying to make him understand that he must
desist from his toil. '_Gehe mir aus dem Gesicht, oder ich schlag dich
todt!_--Get out of my sight, or I will kill you,' he cried. 'Ah! yes,
just so, _Que mire aous dem guesit_,' I answered; 'but that is not the
point.' I picked up his gun that he had left on the ground, and broke
his back with it; then I turned in again, and went off to sleep. Now you
know the whole business."

"But that was a case of self-defence, in which one man suffered for
the good of many, so you have nothing to reproach yourself with," said
Benassis.

"The rest of them thought that it had only been my fancy; but fancy or
no, a good many of them are living comfortably in fine houses to-day,
without feeling their hearts oppressed by gratitude."

"Then would you only do people a good turn in order to receive that
exorbitant interest called gratitude?" said Benassis, laughing. "That
would be asking a great deal for your outlay."

"Oh, I know quite well that all the merit of a good deed evaporates at
once if it benefits the doer in the slightest degree," said Genestas.
"If he tells the story of it, the toll brought in to his vanity is a
sufficient substitute for gratitude. But if every doer of kindly actions
always held his tongue about them, those who reaped the benefits would
hardly say very much either. Now the people, according to your system,
stand in need of examples, and how are they to hear of them amid this
general reticence? Again, there is this poor pontooner of ours, who
saved the whole French army, and who was never able to tell his tale to
any purpose; suppose that he had lost the use of his limbs, would the
consciousness of what he had done have found him in bread? Answer me
that, philosopher!"

"Perhaps the rules of morality cannot be absolute," Benassis answered;
"though this is a dangerous idea, for it leaves the egoist free to
settle cases of conscience in his own favor. Listen, captain; is not the
man who never swerves from the principles of morality greater than he
who transgresses them, even through necessity? Would not our veteran,
dying of hunger, and unable to help himself, be worthy of rank with