having registered my name the sergeant on duty snapped:

"the 22nd! they're in the college, rue st. paul."

one thing delighted me. guillaumin was attached to the same unit. i had so often experienced his good-nature and devotion. he would be invaluable, perfect, on active service.

but what other non-coms., should we have as companions?

directly we got to our quarters, we saw two men detach themselves from the group standing there. two more of the old lot, two school-teachers.... guillaumin whispered their names to me—descroix, a squat, red-haired chap, with an imperial and a clumsy way of walking; and humel, a small slight man with a thin pale face, and a rather cunning expression. we greeted one another cordially, pretending to congratulate ourselves on the lucky chance. they lost no time in addressing us in the most familiar terms, and we put on no side. conversation soon began to lag, however, as we lacked any interests in common.

guillaumin suddenly went off. he brought back a man named de valpic to introduce to us. he was tall[pg 80] and slim and distinguished-looking with a gentle, sad expression.

as he was already in uniform the company sergeant-major, who was passing, requisitioned him.

when he had gone, we asked guillaumin who he was.

"oh, you know the de valpics—the historical ones! he is the ambassador's nephew. i met him in camp at mailly, and he asked me to go and see him—a mansion in the rue de grenelle, with a courtyard of sixty yards. but quite unspoilt, a very good sort, you'll see!"

"he'd better not give himself airs here!" said descroix.

he and humel did not seem in the least disposed to make friends with the new-comer.

reservists kept on arriving in an uninterrupted string, their rejoining orders in their hands.

"here are the people we're going to get killed with," guillaumin said. "what sort do they look?"

beaucerons for the most part, reserved, obstinate, weather-beaten beings, who did not talk much. when they did it was with a guttural accent. i was able to identify the faces of a certain number of worthy farmers, the simeons and gaudéreaux whom i had noticed during my year's services. from a distance they all seemed our elders, with their scored faces, and their bodies bent and thickened by the rough work in the fields. a minority of parisians were making four times more noise than the others. i raised my eyebrows. i had caught sight of judsi with his queer clown's face—a bad stock—and further on, lamalou, a huge fellow with a weakness for the fair sex, who had come back from the punishment battalions in[pg 81] africa; a good sort, but terrible when he had been drinking.

"the deuce!" i said to guillaumin. "we've got some bad hats."

"they make the best soldiers!"

judsi was raising roars of laughter by handing round the hat, his hat, an extraordinary object which he must have picked up for fun on the high road.

"help a pore man!"

he humbugged: didn't his pals agree that it was just the time to go and fetch a few kilos of red wine? who knew whether they wouldn't have kicked the bucket by to-morrow.

he ended by collecting about four francs. he went off and came back in ten minutes' time carrying seven or eight bottles.

they made him a speech, they smacked each other on the back, they went into fits simply at the sight of him clicking his tongue or rolling his eyes.

i suddenly caught sight of someone coming towards me ... the brick red cheeks, the flat nose, the crisp hair, and full lips exposing the receding gums ... all these were familiar to me. the man was wearing a dirty grey suit. he held out his hairy paw to me.

"halloa, my 'rooky'!"

the sound of his voice enabled me to place him.

"bouillon!"

eight years before, when i first joined, i had found him rejoicing in good conduct and efficiency badges, and acting as barrack-room orderly. the excellent fellow had at once taken me under his protection, and had seen me through the first three weeks, teaching me the rudiments of manual and platoon exercises. he was not a little proud of it. i was "his rooky."[pg 82] a little later on bouillon had got into trouble. he had been led away by lamalou, and mixed up in some night brawl, and had lost his stripes in consequence. when i rejoined the company i had been able, without causing him any humiliation to get him attached to me as batman and we had both congratulated ourselves on our understanding, he because i occasionally gave him a tip to supplement his weekly three francs, i because my kit was so well cared for, from that day onwards.

i had not seen him since. the joy of having found me again lit up his face.

he said insinuatingly:

"if only you could get me into your section?"

i promised to try and arrange the matter for him shortly.

"that chap seems very much attached to you," said guillaumin.

"pooh! he hopes to get some money out of me!"

a quartermaster-sergeant who had re-enlisted accosted us:

"i say, you're the n.c.o.'s of the 22nd, aren't you? come and get changed: then you can lend a hand ... with the men!"

we followed him to the clothing-store which had been installed in a yard.

an officer was there, a sub-lieutenant in the reserves, a young fellow with a fine head, and a long brown moustache, which he twirled mechanically. we reported ourselves to him. he timidly asked each one of us what our profession was.

"that's right!" he said approvingly; "quite right. yes!"

there was a superb lot of regulation trousers, tunics, and greatcoats.

[pg 83]

guillaumin marvelled at them.

"some preparation—what!—in spite of all they say!"

we soon found what we wanted, all that is, except him, whose arms were so long as to be out of all proportion.

we laughed at his build, resembling that of a monkey.

"first-rate for bayonet work!" he retorted.

we were ready. the quartermaster brought us a dozen men.

"the first batch!"

a nice business this: these two hundred fellows to fit out! they all kept coming out of turn. and they weren't a bit easy to manage, as they did not care a rap for us! and then how nice and easy it was to find one's way about among these marks. m iii, g ii, e iv...! a foul dust flew out of the piles of clothing which were lying about, out of the heaps of caps which had come undone.... and the stink of these people in their shirt-sleeves!... heavens! i did the best thing i could do under the circumstances, and bolted surreptitiously.

having got over the railings i saluted a couple standing on the pavement, hand-in-hand. little frémont and his wife whom i thought insignificant-looking. i went on, but was not displeased at the idea of his being in the 22nd; one more pleasant comrade.

i did not reappear in quarters until evening. guillaumin at once warned me charitably to look out! i was marked! descroix and humel had soon noticed my disappearance and had made no bones about reporting me. the quartermaster had stormed and raged; a regular hullabaloo!

[pg 84]

"what does it matter!" i interrupted.

i saw, however, that there was a certain amount of danger in allowing a hostile clan to form itself at the very beginning. i went into the little room reserved for us. i found descroix in his shirt-sleeves, and offered him a cigarette, which he accepted. humel came back, and we joked. neither of them uttered a word about the afternoon's occurrence.

however, the quartermaster-sergeant came to tell me, in a tone that i did not half like, that i had been warned for orderly duty at the gates.

"who detailed me?"

"the sergeant-major."

the others were chuckling inwardly. i made the best of a bad job. all right! my turn would come in time no doubt! i was looking for the necessary equipment when a counter order arrived. the guard would be drawn entirely from the 23rd to-day.

still better! i went out calmly, taking guillaumin with me. frémont had vanished. we met de valpic:

"are you coming to dine with us?"

he excused himself. not this evening, he preferred to rest.

rest after what? his refusal shocked me. if he was going to refuse to associate with us, he would have to be taken down a peg.