"Alas, madame, your kindness encourages me. Only consider, if a man is on the point of leaving his home, and perhaps forever, he is longing to say to somebody good-by, and when on such an occasion a beautiful woman shakes hands and says, 'Farewell, my boy,' then it surely brings luck!"
"But, Monsieur Zouave, you speak in riddles to me. Where are you going, if I may put the question?"
"To Algiers, in the desert, and then further."
"But you are returning to your regiment?"
"God forbid. I have an unlimited furlough."
"By my life, it requires a corkscrew in order to get the words out of your mouth! Plainly told, what mean all these preliminaries?"
"Well, you know already that the son of Madame Mercedes, Captain Joliette, has disappeared. I am attached to my captain and—"
"Quick, make haste, I am fast losing all patience!"
"To-day a pale-looking man with sparkling dark eyes, and coal-black hair and beard, told me that he starts to-morrow morning in order to search for Captain Joliette, and intends to take me with him!"
Neither the Zouave nor Madame Caraman heard the half-suppressed exclamation, which had just occurred close to the veranda; Madame Caraman felt astonished, and rising suddenly asked almost breathlessly: