"What was your first garrison?" he asked suddenly.

"Auxonne."

He gave an unnatural laugh.

"Auxonne. Province of the Cote d'Or. District of Dijon. Six thousand
inhabitants. P.L.M. Railway. Drill school and review. The Colonel's
wife receives Thursdays, and the Major's on Saturdays. Leaves every
Sunday,--the first of the month to Paris, the three others to Dijon.
That explains your Judgment of Flatters.

"For my part, my dear fellow, my first garrison was at Boghar. I
arrived there one morning in October, a second lieutenant, aged
twenty, of the First African Batallion, the white chevron on my black
sleeve.... Sun stripe, as the _bagnards_ say in speaking of their
grades. Boghar! Two days before, from the bridge of the steamer, I had
begun to see the shores of Africa. I pity all those who, when they see
those pale cliffs for the first time, do not feel a great leap at
their hearts, at the thought that this land prolongs itself thousands
and thousands of leagues.... I was little more than a child, I had
plenty of money. I was ahead of schedule. I could have stopped three
or four days at Algiers to amuse myself. Instead I took the train that
same evening for Berroughia.

"There, scarcely a hundred kilometers from Algiers, the railway
stopped. Going in a straight line you won't find another until you get
to the Cape. The diligence travels at night on account of the heat.
When we came to the hills I got out and walked beside the carriage,