"Ass," I burst out, "will you speak?"

"Lieutenant, Lieutenant," he fairly pled, "I swear that what I know,

or nothing--"

"What you know you are going to tell me, and right away. If not, I

give you my word of honor that, for a month, I shall not speak to you

except on official business."

Hassi-Inifel: thirty native Arabs and four Europeans--myself, the

Sergeant, a Corporal, and Gourrut. The threat was terrible. It had its

effect.

"All right, then, Lieutenant," he said with a great sigh. "But

afterwards you must not blame me for having told you things about a

superior which should not be told and come only from the talk I

overheard at mess."

"Tell away."

"It was in 1899. I was then Mess Sergeant at Sfax, with the 4th

Spahis. I had a good record, and besides, as I did not drink, the

Adjutant had assigned me to the officers' mess. It was a soft berth.

The marketing, the accounts, recording the library books which were

borrowed (there weren't many), and the key of the wine cupboard,--for

with that you can't trust orderlies. The Colonel was young and dined

at mess. One evening he came in late, looking perturbed, and, as soon

as he was seated, called for silence: "'Gentlemen,' he said, 'I have a communication to make to you, and I shall ask for your advice. Here is the question. Tomorrow morning the

City of Naples lands at Sfax. Aboard her is Captain de Saint-Avit,

recently assigned to Feriana, en route to his post.' "The Colonel paused. 'Good,' thought I, 'tomorrow's menu is about to be considered.' For you know the custom, Lieutenant, which has existed ever since there have been any officers' clubs in Africa. When an

officer is passing by, his comrades go to meet him at the boat and

invite him to remain with them for the length of his stay in port. He

pays his score in news from home. On such occasions everything is of

the best, even for a simple lieutenant. At Sfax an officer on a visit

meant--one extra course, vintage wine and old liqueurs.

"But this time I imagined from the looks the officers exchanged that

perhaps the old stock would stay undisturbed in its cupboard.

"'You have all, I think, heard of Captain de Saint-Avit, gentlemen,

and the rumors about him. It is not for us to inquire into them, and

the promotion he has had, his decoration if you will, permits us to

hope that they are without foundation. But between not suspecting an

officer of being a criminal, and receiving him at our table as a

comrade, there is a gulf that we are not obliged to bridge. That is

the matter on which I ask your advice.' "There was silence. The officers looked at each other, all of them suddenly quite grave, even to the merriest of the second lieutenants.

In the corner, where I realized that they had forgotten me, I tried

not to make the least sound that might recall my presence.




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