Having registered my name the sergeant on duty snapped:
"The 22nd! They're in the College, Rue St. Paul."
One thing delighted me. Guillaumin was attached to the same unit. I had so often experienced his good-nature and devotion. He would be invaluable, perfect, on active service.
But what other non-coms., should we have as companions?
Directly we got to our quarters, we saw two men detach themselves from the group standing there. Two more of the old lot, two school-teachers.... Guillaumin whispered their names to me—Descroix, a squat, red-haired chap, with an imperial and a clumsy way of walking; and Humel, a small slight man with a thin pale face, and a rather cunning expression. We greeted one another cordially, pretending to congratulate ourselves on the lucky chance. They lost no time in addressing us in the most familiar terms, and we put on no side. Conversation soon began to lag, however, as we lacked any interests in common.
Guillaumin suddenly went off. He brought back a man named De Valpic to introduce to us. He was tall and slim and distinguished-looking with a gentle, sad expression.
As he was already in uniform the company sergeant-major, who was passing, requisitioned him.
When he had gone, we asked Guillaumin who he was.
"Oh, you know the De Valpics—the historical ones! He is the ambassador's nephew. I met him in camp at Mailly, and he asked me to go and see him—A mansion in the Rue de Grenelle, with a courtyard of sixty yards. But quite unspoilt, a very good sort, you'll see!"
"He'd better not give himself airs here!" said Descroix.