June was puzzled. "Who did?" he asked.
But Monsieur did not heed him; he was breathing quickly and the perspiration stood out on his forehead.
"And you will be very careful and let no one see you mail it," he asked eagerly, "and never, never speak of it to anybody?"
"Course not," said June stoutly, "that wouldn't be like a soldier, would it? I am going to be a soldier, like you and Father, when I grow up."
Monsieur shuddered: "No, not like me. I am no longer a soldier. I am a miserable wretch. I—I am not fit to live." His voice broke and he threw his arm across his eyes.
June looked off into the farthest corner of the room and pretended not to see. He felt very sorry for Monsieur, but he could think of nothing to say. When he did speak he asked if goldfish had ears.
When the noon gun sounded on the parade grounds, Tanaka came trotting to the door with his jinrikisha, smiling and bowing and calling softly: "Juna San! Juna San!"
June gathered his treasures together, a new lead pencil, an old sword hilt, some brass buttons and, best of all, a tiny goldfish in a glass jar.
"Good-bye," he said as he stood by the bed with his hands full, "I am coming back to-morrow if Seki will let me;" then a second thought struck him and he added, "I think you look like a soldier anyhow."
And Monsieur smiled, and stiffening his back lifted a bandaged hand in feeble salute.