"Will you run your eye over this, my dear Claviers?"
The first of the two documents had at its head:—"General orders relating to the assistance to be furnished by the troops in making inventories of church property"; and the second: "Supplementary instructions for the lieutenant commanding the 1st and 2nd platoons of the third squadron of the 32nd Cavalry, who is to sustain the action of the police and gendarmerie during the operation of taking the inventory of the church property at Hugueville-en-Plaine." The "general orders" stated that both inventories would be taken on Friday, November 16, at nine o'clock in the morning. The "supplementary instructions" added that the duty of the officer despatched to Hugueville would consist in these three points: "to form barriers across the different streets leading to the church, according to the general scheme of the annexed sketch"; "to support the action of the police and gendarmerie, in maintaining order, dispersing the crowds, and looking to the evacuation of the church if necessary"; and thirdly, "to enable the official recorder to perform his duties."
Prepared as Landri should have been, by his reflections of the past week and of that very afternoon, for the possibility of this event, he turned pale as he read the words. He did not hesitate a second, however, but replied:—
"Very good, captain; I will obey orders."
"Did you read it carefully?" said Despois, pointing to one sentence in the first paper: "Six sappers supplied with the necessary tools to perform, in the absence of civilian workmen, such work of demolition as there may be occasion to do."—"In the absence of civilian workmen," he repeated. "You will take the greatest pains, therefore, to assure yourself that civilian workmen cannot be found; cannot be found," he insisted.
Evidently he was anticipating the case of the lieutenant refusing to execute the commissioner's orders, and was preparing to shield him, if necessary, before the court-martial.
"I will make sure of it, captain." And, in a firm voice, "I hope that we shall not come to that point, but if we do my sappers will do the work."
Not a muscle moved in the Catholic Despois' impassive face. If Landri had not been acquainted with his real thought, he might have believed that the peculiarly painful character of this expedition was a matter of indifference to the old trooper, who began at once to give him detailed orders concerning the equipment of the men. It was not until they rose, after half an hour of professional conversation, that he let certain words escape him which proved how his heart was beating under his undecorated tunic. It was unhoped-for good fortune, that he was not given the command of the detachment on this occasion. But as he was incapable of selfish exultation, so he gave no thought to his own interests. His expression had grown even more gloomy since the other had made that declaration which left no room for doubt. As he accompanied his visitor to the door, he detained him in front of a mediocre engraving, the Last Cartridge. He was neither a collector with the taste of an Altona, nor a connoisseur of art like a Bressieux, was poor Captain Despois. He was something higher in the scale of human culture,—a good soldier. All the martyrdom of the army, of the army forced by shameless politicians into such tragedies of the conscience, quivered in the tone in which, calling his lieutenant's attention to that wretched lithograph of a scene of disaster, but of an heroic disaster and face to face with the enemy, he repeated simply the famous line:—
"Heureux ceux-là qui mouraient dans ces fêtes!"