He pulled his moustache as he spoke, and then, turning his eyes round the squad, he showed devilment and fun enough in them to entice the ordinary good man to break not only the laws of God but to do a still more risky thing—to break the laws of his society.
The word was passed around quickly that the Russian would be a good friend to all the company, and not merely to his own section or his own squad. Everybody was happy; we forgot squad distinctions and shook hands with one another and handed freely round our tobacco, for was not to-morrow the glorious day when eau-de-vie and wine and cigars and tobacco were to be had by every one of us, even without the asking? Ah! the good Russian, the worthy comrade! Ah! the handsome Greek! Ah! the wise woman, who knows the company to select her lover from! Ah! you, good soldier, of another squad it is true; shall we not drink and smoke together to-morrow and curse the pigs of No. 4? How they will groan and curse and envy us to-morrow! Good-night, brave comrade; good-bye till I see you again to-morrow!
The morrow came, with its drills and fatigues and duties. Some of ours were for guard, others for camp picket; how they envied us who were free for all the fun of the evening! The last meal was over, the last duty for the day done, when Nicholas and Le Grand and I went out to negotiate with the two cabaret keepers of the place.
Let me say something here about Le Grand. He was the biggest man in the battalion, some fellows said in the Legion, but there were others who denied this; anyway he was a fine, strapping Dubliner, whose real name I do not care to give. He was in my company, but not in my squad, not even in my section, so he and I passed each other when we met with a friendly "English pig!" "Irish pig!" "Go to the devil!" "Yes, yes; have you any tobacco?" "Yes; here, do not forget me to-morrow." Another word and we separated.
But let me pay here my tribute to the comrade of whom I shall more than once have occasion to speak. He was brave—I learned that on the battlefield, I have it not by hearsay; he was generous—I learned that many a time when we were together in Tonquin; he was kind and honest—that is, honest for a soldier—to all he met with, and his only fault was hastiness of temper, which made him knock you down one moment and, with the corresponding virtue, pick you up the next. But he never struck a boy, he never struck a veteran whose limbs and features showed the effects of war, he would die of thirst sooner than take a drop of water from the hot-tongued youngster in the fight who had the desire to go forward and the weariness of the rifle and pack, and the moist heat of socks and the dull, heavy, deadly pain of pouches at the sides. I do not know where you are to-day, Le Grand; wherever you are take a little, a very little, tribute from one of your comrades. Great as was your frame, our liking and love for you were greater.
Well, we walked slowly, as befitted men bent on so important a mission, down to the collection of mud huts where the sutlers were. Nicholas, as the giver of the feast, had the centre, Le Grand was on his right, and I, the youngest and least of the three, supported the Russian on the left. We did not speak, but Nicholas now and then laughed, while a constant smile, cynical, sarcastic, and malicious, was on his lips. The Russian was evidently calculating on the fun he would have, for he, if no one else did, forecasted accurately the result. He was paying, and paying for a purpose; excitement was to him the breath of life; he had no fear of consequences; if he were punished he would take his punishment with that calm ease of manner which was the despair of all his superiors from the commandant down.
The first cabaret we visited was kept by a retired soldier—a man who had spent most of his life in Algeria, who had in fact, almost forgotten France. An ugly, old Kabyle woman, whom, I daresay, he had picked up a young girl in some forgotten desert raid, lived with him, cooked his meals, and helped to swindle us poor fellows out of the wretched pittance we were paid.
When we entered the host came forward, smiling, gloating I should say, on Nicholas. The fellow evidently knew about the money. The Russian came straight to the point.
"How much, mon vieux, for all in this hole?"
"What! all?"