"Yes, and so were we about to part when we took leave of each other at Biscarros's inn, but you were calm then."
Richon smiled sadly.
"Baron," said he, "I have a presentiment that we shall never meet again!"
Canolles shuddered at the profoundly melancholy inflection in the partisan's ordinarily firm voice.
"Ah, well!" said he, "if we do not meet again, Richon, it will be because one of us has died the death of a brave man; and in that case the one who dies will be sure, at all events, of surviving in the heart of a friend! Embrace me, Richon; you wished me good luck; I wish you good courage!"
The two men embraced warmly, and for some seconds their noble hearts beat against each other.
When they parted, Richon wiped away a tear, the first, perhaps, that ever dimmed his proud glance; then, as if he feared that Canolles might see the tear, he hurried from the room, ashamed, no doubt, to have exhibited such a sign of weakness to a man whose courage was so well known to him.
III.
The dining-hall was left untenanted, save by Canolles and the officer who announced the flag of truce, and who was still standing beside the door.