"I am dying. I make you the heir to all I possess. Very little—but still all; here it is."
He pressed a small bag into my hand. I said:
"Not at all, good comrade; you will want it when you recover, or at least to get better attendance and a few delicacies in hospital."
"No, my friend; I am leaving la gamelle. Take it and I shall be pleased. Try to see me in the morning; to-morrow evening it will be too late."
He forced the little bag again into my hand. I had to take it, but I resolved to see him in the morning and to return it if he were still alive, though I could not help feeling an ugly presentiment that my poor friend was really dying and that the best friend I had in the little world of the Foreign Legion was about to leave me for ever.
After soup had been served out to all the men the sergeant, who still commanded the company, told me that I was wanted at the hospital. I, thinking only of Nicholas, said that I should go thither at once.
"Do you know, corporal," said he, "where it is?"
"Certainly, yes," I answered. "Did I not help to bring many wounded there to-day?"
"Of whom are you thinking?" he asked.
"Nicholas, the prince, you understand. Do you not remember Three Fountains?"