“Courage, comrade! This fit will pass with the oppression. Why, I myself feel it—I. When the storm breaks——”
The blue lips caught at the word.
“When the storm breaks! What will he have answered?”
“He? Who?” said the young officer.
The dying corporal, twisting in his arms, made an awful gesture towards the Emperor’s tent.
“As always,” said de Sainte Croix, “with the cry to victory.”
The other clutched his hand with a grip like madness.
“I believe it, monsieur. He will have renewed the compact.”
“What compact, my poor friend?”
“With the red man.”