"Really, Gourrut, my lad, I beg you not to disturb yourself. Make
yourself completely at home."

The man had risen, and I saw him to be quite tall, slender and very
pale.

"Lieutenant Ferrières, is it not?"

He advanced, holding out his hand.

"Captain de Saint-Avit. Delighted, my dear fellow."

At the same time Chatelain appeared on the threshold.

"Sergeant," said the newcomer, "I cannot congratulate you on the
little I have seen. There is not a camel saddle which is not in want
of buckles, and they are rusty enough to suggest that it rains at
Hassi-Inifel three hundred days in the year. Furthermore, where were
you this afternoon? Among the four Frenchmen who compose the post, I
found only on my arrival one convict, opposite a quart of eau-de-vie.
We will change all that, I hope. At ease."

"Captain," I said, and my voice was colorless, while Chatelain
remained frozen at attention, "I must tell you that the Sergeant was
with me, that it is I who am responsible for his absence from the
post, that he is an irreproachable non-commissioned officer from every
point of view, and that if we had been warned of your arrival--"

"Evidently," he said, with a coldly ironical smile. "Also, Lieutenant,
I have no intention of holding him responsible for the negligences