In the next bed lay the Russian, Mikhail. Queer, shy chap. What a voice, and what a complexion for a recruit of the Foreign Legion! How extraordinarily alike he and his brother were, and yet there was a great difference between their respective voices and facial expressions.... Another queer story there. They looked like students.... Probably involved in some silly Nihilist games and had to bolt for their lives from the Russian police or from Nihilist confederates, or both. It was nice to see how the manlier brother looked after the other. He seemed to be in a perpetual state of concern and anxiety about him.
Beyond the Russian recruit lay the mad Legionary known as the Grasshopper. What a pathetic creature--an ex-officer of one of the most aristocratic corps in Europe. In fact he must be a nobleman or he could not have been in the Guides. Must be of an ancient family moreover. Besides, he was so very obviously of ceux qui ont pris la peine de naître. What could his story be? Fancy the man being a really first-class soldier on parade, manoeuvres, march, or battlefield, and an obvious lunatic at the same time.... Poor devil!...
Next to him was the other Russian, and then Edouard Malvin, the nasty-looking cad who appeared to be Rivoli's chief toady. His neighbour was the fat and dull-looking Dutch lad (who was to display such unusual and enviable moral courage)....
Footsteps resounded without, and the Room-Corporal entered with a clatter. Turning down his blanket, as though expecting to find something beneath it, he disclosed some bottles, a few packets of tobacco and cigarettes, and a little heap of coins.
"Bonheur de Dieu vrai!" he ejaculated. "'Y'a de bon!" and examined the packets for any indication of their orientation. "'Les deux Russes,'" he read, and broke into a guinguette song. Monsieur le Caporal loved wine and was un ramasseur de sous. These Russians were really worthy and sensible recruits, and, though they should escape none of their duties, they should be regarded with a tolerant and non-malicious eye by Monsieur le Caporal. No undue share of corvées should be theirs.... No harm in their complimenting their good Caporal and winning his approval--but, on the other hand, no bribery and corruption. Mais non--c'est tout autre chose!
As the Corporal disrobed, the Grasshopper rose from his cot, crouched, and hopped towards him.
The Corporal evinced no surprise.
"Monsieur le Caporal," quoth the Grasshopper. "How can a Cigale steer a gunboat? ... I ask you.... How can I possibly dip the ensign from peak to taffrail, cat the anchor or shoot the sun, by the pale glimmer of the binnacle light? ... And I have, for cargo, the Cestus of Aphrodite...."
"And I have, for cargo, seven bottles of good red wine--beneath my Cestus of Corporal--so I can't tell you, Grasshopper," was the reply.... "Va t'en! ... You go and ask Monsieur le bon Diable--and tell him his old ami Caporal Achille Martel sent you.... Go on--allez schteb' los--and let me sleep...."
The Grasshopper hopped to the door and out into the corridor....