reproachfully, as if regretting that he had spoken. Yet during all the
time that our return trip lasted, I could not find the strength to
break our desolate silence with a single word.

The night had almost fallen when we arrived. The flag which
surmounted the post was still visible, drooping on its standard, but
already its colors were indistinguishable. To the west the sun had
disappeared behind the dunes gashed against the black violet of the
sky.

When we had crossed the gate of the fortifications, Chatelain left me.

"I am going to the stables," he said.

I returned alone to that part of the fort where the billets for the
Europeans and the stores of ammunition were located. An inexpressible
sadness weighed upon me.

I thought of my comrades in French garrisons. At this hour they must
be returning home to find awaiting them, spread out upon the bed,
their dress uniform, their braided tunic, their sparkling epaulettes.

"Tomorrow," I said to myself, "I shall request a change of station."

The stairway of hard-packed earth was already black. But a few gleams
of light still seemed palely prowling in the office when I entered.

A man was sitting at my desk, bending over the files of orders. His
back was toward me. He did not hear me enter.