"We aren't working with the same end in view," I answered evasively.
I was thoughtful, only thoughtful I give you my word. From that moment I harbored no further grudge against Morhange. Yet my silence persuaded him that I was unforgiving. And everyone, do you hear me, everyone said later on, when suspicions became rife:
"He is surely guilty. We saw them go off together. We can affirm it."
I am guilty.... But for a low motive of jealousy.... How sickening....
After that, there was nothing to do but to flee, flee, as far as the places where there are no more men who think and reason.
Morhange, appeared, his arm resting on the Major's, who was beaming over this new acquaintanceship.
He presented him enthusiastically:
"Captain Morhange, gentlemen. An officer of the old school, and a man after our own hearts, I give you my word. He wants to leave tomorrow, but we must give him such a reception that he will forget that idea before two days are up. Come, Captain, you have at least eight days to give us."
"I am at the disposition of Lieutenant de Saint-Avit," replied Morhange, with a quiet smile.
The conversation became general. The sound of glasses and laughter rang out. I heard my comrades in ecstasies over the stories that the newcomer poured out with never-failing humor. And I, never, never have I felt so sad.