Forgive me if I write with a trembling hand. The words may seem faint, almost illegible, at times. I found a pencil lying in a gutter on the roadside. Its point is dulled, and it is too short for my stiffened fingers. And this paper—from a funeral register—is not of the best. Its broad black border leaves very little space and compels me to cramp my lines. A broad black border! How inconvenient! Yet how appropriate! This funeral page is perchance the best for such a story as mine!
Here I begin. And again I beg of you; doubt me not, but read, understand, believe!
II
It all started with a letter from Colonel Terrisse, commander of field artillery, to Vice-Admiral de Fierce, commander-in-chief of the Western Mediterranean, prefect of the Maritime reserve, line-officer, and governor of the fortress of Toulon. The letter in question came in to Staff Headquarters by the evening mail of Monday, December 21, 1908. Notice now! That was the twenty-first of last December. It is now the 20th of January, 1909. Not quite a month ago! It will be a month tomorrow, day for day. A month! One single month! Gods of Heaven and Hell!
The Colonel’s letter reached Headquarters by the evening mail—military headquarters, you understand, not the naval. At Toulon, as is the case with similar stations, the vice-admiral in command functions in a double capacity as maritime prefect and military governor. His residence is the mansion of the prefecture; while his adjutant occupies the governor’s house. There are thus separate offices communicating by telephone. The wire is for obvious reasons a private one, independent of the city “central.”
I was in the officers’ room when the mail came in; and I opened the letter. Among my duties was that of reading and sorting the correspondence of the military commander. I was a captain of cavalry detailed to the General Staff. I was young—just thirty-three—thirty-three, mark you! And that was less than a calendar month ago! Four weeks and two days ago, to be exact.
I opened the letter; and read it. It was a matter of no great interest that I could see. I am going to transcribe it textually, however, for I can see it right before me now.