An hour later, the flurry being over, I go again to see him with LeBlond. I have taken the flowers of the night before and placed them respectfully on his breast——
Poor young chap! He is unrecognizable. Can this be the happy little fellow of the night before?
On leaving the chapel, I notice that LeBlond is terribly affected and I say nothing to him. We arrive at the dugout where our brave captain, covered with mud, sobs like a child for his lost friend——
Taking LeBlond by the arm, I say:
"Mon vieux, you are down-hearted—go with me along the whole first line—we have our dead to avenge! we must not weep for them——"
During the night LeBlond and I return to Verdun. Before retiring I reach in my pockets to empty them. Two letters and a little box rest in my fingers. I think a long time of these souvenirs of death——
After hesitating some moments, I say to my friend:
"Decidedly, I will send them to-morrow. These poor people will not learn too soon the unhappiness they bring!"