I had got up again. The inflamed place on my heel was becoming intolerable. I resigned myself to taking off my shoes and stockings.
The head which had formed yesterday had been pulled off. It had a very unhealthy look. An abscess would probably form.
What could I do? Report sick? For a sore on my foot! And just now too. But my claim would not be allowed. Bouchut would not look at me! I had seen poor wretches at the manœuvres forced to march with gory feet, and with septic gatherings from which blood oozed at the pressure.... No, there was no hope for me there! I must go on then, but in future should have to endure fresh torture at each step I took.
Guillaumin had joined me.
"Your foot again? Let's have a look!"
He bent down and examined it.
"The counter! Oh! be blowed to it! That is a bore! Why go out of your way to get something different from the regulation boots. I'm delighted with mine. Still it can't be helped. Something must be done for this."
I explained that I had treated myself with tincture of iodine.
"Diluted, I hope?"