comrade told him that night about the transfer of the seat of
government, with all the mystery of news not yet made public, Desnoyers
merely replied:

"They are doing the best thing. . . . I, too, will go tomorrow if I
can."

Why remain longer in Paris? His family was away. His father, according
to Argensola's investigations, also had gone off without saying whither.
Now Marguerite's mysterious flight was leaving him entirely alone, in a
solitude that was filling him with remorse.

That afternoon, when strolling through the boulevards, he had stumbled
across a friend considerably older than himself, an acquaintance in the
fencing club which he used to frequent. This was the first time they had
met since the beginning of the war, and they ran over the list of their
companions in the army. Desnoyers' inquiries were answered by the older
man. So-and-so? . . . He had been wounded in Lorraine and was now in
a hospital in the South. Another friend? . . . Dead in the Vosges.
Another? . . . Disappeared at Charleroi. And thus had continued the
heroic and mournful roll-call. The others were still living, doing brave
things. The members of foreign birth, young Poles, English residents in
Paris and South Americans, had finally enlisted as volunteers. The club
might well be proud of its young men who had practised arms in times of
peace, for now they were all jeopardizing their existence at the front.
Desnoyers turned his face away as though he feared to meet in the eyes
of his friend, an ironical and questioning expression. Why had he not
gone with the others to defend the land in which he was living? . . .

"To-morrow I will go," repeated Julio, depressed by this recollection.

But he went toward the South like all those who were fleeing from the
war. The following morning Argensola was charged to get him a railroad
ticket for Bordeaux. The value of money had greatly increased, but fifty
francs, opportunely bestowed, wrought the miracle and procured a bit of
numbered cardboard whose conquest represented many days of waiting.

"It is good only for to-day," said the Spaniard, "you will have to take
the night train."

Packing was not a very serious matter, as the trains were refusing to
admit anything more than hand-luggage. Argensola did not wish to accept
the liberality of Julio who tried to leave all his money with him.
Heroes need very little and the painter of souls was inspired with
heroic resolution, The brief harangue