rsum corda!_ all the
way home; and walking down the Grand Brul, he had a little adventure
which absolutely gave him a hearty guffaw and sent him almost
laughing to bed.

There was a noisy squabble between some soldiers and civilians on
the opposite side of the way, and a group of men in blouses were
looking on. Barty stood leaning against a lamp-post, and looked on
too.

Suddenly a small soldier rushed at the blouses, brandishing his
short straight sword (or _coupe-choux_, as it is called in civilian
slang), and saying:

"Ca ne vous regarde pas, savez-vous! allez-vous en bien vite, ou je
vous ..."

The blouses fled like sheep.

Then as he caught sight of Barty he reached at him.

"Ca ne vous regarde pas, savez-vous!..."

(It doesn't concern you.)

"Non--c'est moi qui regarde, savez-vous!" said Barty.

"Qu'est-ce que vous regardez?"

"Je regarde la lune et les etoiles. Je regarde la comete!"

"Voulez-vous bien vous en aller bien vite?"

"Une autre fois!" says Barty.

"Allez-vous en, je vous dis!"

"Apres-demain!"

"Vous ... ne ... voulez ... pas ... vous ... en ... aller?" says the
soldier, on tiptoe, his chest against Barty's stomach, his nose
almost up to Barty's chin, glaring up like a fiend and poising his
_coupe-choux_ for a death-stroke.

"_Non_, sacre petit pousse-cailloux du diable!" roars Barty.

"Eh bien, restez ou vous etes!" and the little man plunged back into
the fray on the opposite side--and no blood was shed after all.

Barty dreamt of this adventure, and woke up laughing at it in the
small hours of that night. Then, suddenly, in the dark, he
remembered the horror of what had happened. It overwhelmed him. He
realized, as in a sudden illuminating flash, what life meant for him
hence-forward--life that might last for so many years.

Vitality is at its lowest ebb at that time of night; though the
brain is quick to perceive, and so clear that its logic seems
inexorable.

It was hell. It was not to be borne a moment longer. It must be put
an end to at once. He tried to feel the north, but could not. He
would kill himself then and there, while his aunt was away; so that
the horror of the sight of him, after, should at least be spared
her.

He jumped out of bed and struck a light. Thank Heaven, he wasn't
blind yet, though he saw all the bogies, as he called them, that had
made his life a burden to him for the last two years--the retina
floating loose about his left eye, tumbling a