broached the subject to Major Bouroche.

"I have a sore foot, monsieur the doctor--"

Bouroche, with a savage shake of his big head with its leonine mane,
turned on him with a roar:

"I am not monsieur the doctor; who taught you manners?"

And when Maurice, taken all aback, made a stammering attempt to excuse
himself, he continued:

"Address me as major, do you hear, you great oaf!"

He must have seen that he had not one of the common herd to deal with
and felt a little ashamed of himself; he carried it off with a display
of more roughness.

"All a cock-and-bull story, that sore foot of yours!--Yes, yes; you
may go. Go in a carriage, go in a balloon, if you choose. We have too
many of you malingerers in the army!"

When Jean assisted Maurice into the carriole the latter turned to
thank him, whereon the two men fell into each other's arms and
embraced as if they were never to meet again. Who could tell, amid the
confusion and disorder of the retreat, with those bloody Prussians on
their track? Maurice could not tell how it was that there was already
such a tender affection between him and the young man, and twice he
turned to wave him a farewell. As he left the camp they were preparing
to light great fires in order to mislead the enemy when they should