m'sieu'?" to which he responded with amiable forgiveness. To his idea
they were only naughty children, their minds reasoning no more clearly
than they saw the streets through the tiny little squares of bottle-glass
in the windows of their homes.

All at once they came face to face with Detricand. The chevalier stopped
short with pleased yet wistful surprise. His brow knitted when he saw
that his compatriot had been drinking again, and his eyes had a pained
look as he said eagerly:

"Have you heard from the Comte de Tournay, monsieur? I have not seen you
these days past. You said you would not disappoint me."

Detricand drew from his pocket a letter and handed it over, saying: "This
comes from the comte."

The old gentleman took the letter, nervously opened it, and read it
slowly, saying each sentence over twice as though to get the full
meaning.

"Ah," he exclaimed, "he is going back to France to fight for the King!"

Then he looked at Detricand sadly, benevolently. "Mon cher," said he,
"if I could but persuade you to abjure the wine-cup and follow his
example!"

Detricand drew himself up with a jerk. "You can persuade me, chevalier,"
said he. "This is my last bout. I had sworn to have it with--with a
soldier I knew, and I've kept my word. But it's the last, the very last
in my life, on the honour of--the Detricands. And I am going with the