"Monsieur Schneider has told me the whole affair," he resumed. "He has quarrelled with you and will not make it up. Well, do not mind him, give him another six months of drill and route marching and he will sing another tune.—If you care for him, mademoiselle, as a woman ought to care for a man, don't regard his tantrums and keep on writing to him even if he tears up your letters."
The effect of this speech was astonishing. Mademoiselle Seraskier, after looking at Jacques for a moment with eyes dancing with merriment, suddenly turned and ran from the room; she seemed choking with laughter, and the incensed Jacques was turning to go, when the old lady held him.
"Do not mind my daughter," said she. "She is young, and young people are sometimes foolish. Meanwhile, take my thanks for your kindness, and as a small memento of our meeting please accept this."
She took a pink and blue five-hundred-franc note from a travelling desk open on the table and approached Jacques with it.
"Madame," said Jacques, "I do not take money for assisting my friends." He saluted, turned on his heel and departed.
It was magnificent. Five hundred francs to a légionnaire is the equivalent of five thousand francs to an ordinary civilian, and he had flung it back in the faces of these people—really in the face of this girl who had laughed at his friend. He came down the stairs swelling out his chest and with the feeling of a man who has cast everything away but honour. Then in the street outside and all of a sudden his splendour of mind faded and shrivelled up.
In a practical world where cigarettes were three sous a packet, he had flung away five hundred francs. Twenty-five napoleons.
"Madame, I do not take money for assisting my friends." What a fine sentiment for a man without five centimes in his pocket!
He stopped and actually retraced his steps for a pace or two, then he resumed his way to the barracks, furious with himself, with Schneider, Madame Seraskier, Mademoiselle Seraskier and the universe in general. He saw Schneider that evening and told him that he had delivered the letter, and Schneider not making any inquiries, he said nothing more. He felt illogically angry with Schneider, so much so that he borrowed five francs from him. It was the first time he had ever borrowed from him. With the five francs, Jacques went off to the canteen, where he stood treat all round, drank two bottles of Algerian wine and went to bed happy.
II