The war was in its last throes even when ’Thanase enlisted. Weeks and months passed. Then a soldier coming home to Carancro—home-comers were growing plentiful—brought the first news of him. An officer making up a force of picked men for an expedition to carry important despatches eastward across the Mississippi and far away into Virginia had chosen ’Thanase. The evening the speaker left for home on his leave of absence ’Thanase was still in camp, but was to start the next morning. It was just after Sunday morning mass that Sosthène and Chaouache, with their families and friends, crowded around this bearer of tidings.
“Had ’Thanase been in any battles?”
“Yes, two or three.”
“And had not been wounded?”
“No, although he was the bravest fellow in his company.”
Sosthène and Chaouache looked at each other triumphantly, smiled, and swore two simultaneous oaths of admiration. Zoséphine softly pinched her mother, and whispered something. Madame Sosthène addressed the home-comer aloud:
“Did ’Thanase send no other message except that mere ‘How-d’ye all do?’”
“No.”
Zoséphine leaned upon her mother’s shoulder, and softly breathed:
“He is lying.”