“What’s the matter?” I asked him for the hundredth time. Instead of answering, he said:
“Look at me well. Do you think I could still take fire like any other match? I mean if I should strike myself against a stone could I set myself on fire?”
“Yes, of course. But for heaven’s sake, what do you want to do?” He made me anxious. “Do you want to kill yourself?”
“No, no; don’t be afraid, my friend.”
Later on the colonel of artillery, in whom Fiam had recognized the old warrior, came to my tent. He had been sent by the general to ask who had warned me of the danger of entering this valley.
“No one,” I replied.
“You were right,” he went on; “we are in danger, but the spirits of the heroes protect us, and we will come out all right yet.”
“What of the enemy?”
“It has shut us into the valley. It seemed best to come this way because it is the shortest, and appeared to be free.”
“And can’t we get out through the opening ahead?”