“Hello! You a stranger? What’s your business here?”
“Because I’m a stranger to you doesn’t mean I’m one to the whole town,” returned Armand, with a twitch at the corner of his mouth, as though hiding a smile at his own wit. Then, in a more friendly tone, he added, “However, I’ve no objection to telling you my business. I’m detailed from the third regiment up the line to help here in the supply depot. They’re making a new list of the population. The food’s not holding out.”
“I know that well enough,” grumbled the sentry, his inquisitive look changing to one of gloomy dissatisfaction. “Much good you can do about it.”
“Now suppose you tell me what you are doing here?” suggested Armand, with a return of his faintly mocking tone.
The sentry leaned on his gun a little sheepishly as he answered, “I’m supposed to keep an eye on who goes in and out along this street.” He did not care to confess the real motive for his precipitate entrance. Seeing a fellow soldier enter the garden path and disappear in the shrubbery, he had been seized with a greedy suspicion that the newcomer had designs on his breakfast. A chance shortening of his usual beat had given him this glimpse of Armand, and he had shortened it once more to enter the house after Lucy had watched him pass.
To change the subject he inquired amicably, “The third, did you say you belonged to? That’s in the trenches now, isn’t it? How did you get off?”
“Two days only,” said Armand, without enthusiasm. “I’m on sick leave. Light work, they call this.” He closed his note-book and slipped it back inside his tunic.
“Well, are you ready to go?” asked the sentry, restored to good humor. “I’d like some company as far as the end of my beat. I suppose you’re not going nearer the meadows than this? There’s no one living there.”
“No, I’m starting back now,” said Armand. He turned toward the bed where Madame de la Tour lay, and giving a slight, stiff bow murmured, “Good-morning, ladies.”
The sentry, moved by force of example, made a faint bow likewise, and followed his companion to the stairs. Motionless and silent, Armand’s mother and sister watched him go. They heard him engaged in friendly conversation with the German in the hall below, where Armand paused to get his cap from the dining-room. The next minute the door slammed behind the sentry’s heavy hand and their footsteps sounded on the stone flags outside.