mingled even with the sky, colored by the seasons. We
have attached ourselves to this corner of the land where chance has
held us back from our endless wanderings in longer and deeper peace
than elsewhere; and this closer intercourse makes us sensible of all
its traits and habits. September--the morrow of August and eve of
October, most affecting of months--is already sprinkling the fine days
with subtle warnings. Already one knows the meaning of the dead leaves
that flit about the flat stones like a flock of sparrows.

In truth we have got used to each other's company, we and this place.
So often transplanted, we are taking root here, and we no longer
actually think of going away, even when we talk about it.

"The 11th Division jolly well stayed a month and a half resting," says
Blaire.

"And the 375th, too, nine weeks!" replies Barque, in a tone of
challenge.

"I think we shall stay here at least as long--at least, I say."

"We could finish the war here all right."

Barque is affected by the words, nor very far from believing them.
"After all, it will finish some day, what!"

"After all!" repeat the others.

"To be sure, one never knows," says Paradis. He says this weakly,
without deep conviction. It is, however, a saying which leaves no room
for reply. We say it over again, softly, lulling ourselves with it as
with an old song.

* * * * *

Farfadet rejoined us a moment ago. He took his place near us, but a
little withdrawn all the same, and sits on an overturned tub, his chin
on his fists.

This man is more solidly happy than we are. We know it well, and he
knows it well. Lifting his head he has looked in turn, with the same
distant gaze, at the back of the old man who went to seek his treasure,
and at the group that talks of going away no more. There shines over
our sensitive and sentimental comrade a sort of personal glamour, which
makes of him a being apart, which gilds him and isolates him from us,
in spite of himself, as though an officer's tabs had fallen on him from
the sky.

His idyll with Eudoxie has continued here. We have had the proofs; and
once, indeed, he spoke of it. She is not very far away, and they are
very near to each other. Did I not see her the other evening, passing
along the wall of the parsonage, her hair but half quenched by a
mantilla, as she went obviously to a rendezvous? Did I not see that she
began to hurry and to lean forward, already smiling?