“You never told me in what way you first became separated from your corps. How was it?”
“There's something of a secret there, François; you mustn't ask me.”
“Ah, I understand,” said he, with a knowing look, and a gesture of his hand, as if making a pass with his sword. “Did you kill him?”
“No, not exactly,” said I, laughing.
“Merely gave him that pretty lunge en tierce you favored me with,” said he, putting his hand on his side.
“Nor even that.”
“Diable! then how was it?”
“I have told you it was a secret.”
“Secret! Confound it, man, there are no secrets in a campaign, except when the military chest is empty or the commissary falls short of grub; these are the only things one ever thinks of hushing up. Come, out with it!”
“Well, if it must be, I may as well have the benefit of your advice. So draw closer, for I don't wish the rest to hear it.”