"All I have to say, sir," said Lawrence, after a moment, "is, that I had no intention of deserting until I struck the Sergeant and got frightened. And I've been trying to get back for the last two months. Mr. Broussard can tell you all about it."
"Mr. Broussard has told me all about it," said the Colonel. "Consider yourself under arrest until nine o'clock tomorrow morning, when you will report at the headquarters building. Meanwhile, go to your wife; she is a million times too good for you."
"I know it, sir," replied Lawrence.
"And my wife is a million times too good for me," added the Colonel, reflectively.
Lawrence went out and Broussard rose to go.
"You have not asked me to consider this talk as confidential," said the Colonel, "nevertheless, I shall so consider it. As your Colonel, I advise and require that you should say nothing about Lawrence's relationship to you. This much is due your mother's memory."
"Thank you, sir," replied Broussard, a great load lifted from his heart.
Broussard did not wish to go at once to Mrs. Lawrence; she should have one hour alone with her husband. Nor did he care to go to the officers' club at that moment. He walked toward the quarters of the non-commissioned officers, scarcely noticing where his steps led. As he passed the McGillicuddy quarters, the door opened, and little Ronald ran out bareheaded. He recognized Broussard, and Broussard, feeling strongly and strangely the call of the blood, took the boy in his arms and covered his little face with kisses much to the lad's surprise, and sent him to the house. The next minute, Broussard came face to face with Sergeant McGillicuddy.
The Sergeant, who did not often smile in those days, smiled when he saw Broussard.
"But, Mr. Broussard, you don't look quite fit," said the Sergeant. "The Philippines, drat 'em, ain't good for the complexion."