“Discovers that I deserted. Not he! Perhaps, just because he was my friend, he would be harder than any other.”
Underneath the good-fellowship, the fun, the delight in the gaieties and ornaments of life, Gerard de Montignac had all the hard practical logic of the French character. Certain things are not permissible. For those who do them there is a law, and that is the end of the matter. And at the very head of the things that are not permissible is the tampering with the military oath.
“Friendship will lead Gerard to search for me in every corner,” said Paul. That was the danger. For if Gerard stumbled upon the truth in his search, the friend would turn straightway into the hunter.
Paul followed Marguerite down the stairs, and they talked earnestly for a long while. Then Paul arranged his haik about his turban, slipped his djellaba of wool over his linen caftan, and, going out, was very busy in Fez all that day.
CHAPTER XVIII
Captain Laguessière’s Report
On the twenty-first of April, three days later, Gerard de Montignac rode into Fez at ten o’clock of the morning behind General Moinier. He was lodged at the Auvert Hospital and as he came out of his room he passed in the corridor a face which he remembered. He turned on the instant.
“Baumann!”
Baumann was that short stockish Alsatian belonging to the Department of Native Affairs, whom Gerard many months before had sought at the Villa Iris. He shook Gerard’s hand with deferential warmth.
“Captain de Montignac! How can I serve you?”