"But, my good corporal, why are you telling me all this?"
"Why, Monsieur," replied Vinson, after a pause and a piteous look, "because—it's because ... I have sworn to tell you everything before I die!"
"Hang it all! What do you mean to do?" asked Fandor.
The corporal replied simply, but his tone was decisive:
"I mean to kill myself!"
From this moment it was Fandor who, far from wishing to start off for his train—he had given up any idea of leaving for the South that evening—was bent on getting from the soldier further details about his life.
Fandor now learned that the corporal had been in the service some fifteen months. He had been among the first conscripts affected by the new law of two years' compulsory service, and had been sent to the 214th of the line, in garrison at Châlons. Owing to his qualities he had been much appreciated by all his superior officers. As soon as he had finished his classes, he obtained his corporal's stripes, and in consideration of his very good handwriting, and also owing to the influence of a commandant, he got a snug post as secretary in the offices of the fortress itself.
Vinson was thoroughly satisfied with his new situation; for, having been brought up in his mother's petticoats, and practically the whole of his adolescence having been passed behind the counter of the maternal book-shop, he had much more the temperament of a clerk than of an active out-of-doors man.
The only sport which he enjoyed was riding, riding a bicycle, and the only luxury he allowed himself was photography.
Time passed. Then, one Sunday evening, he went with some comrades to a Châlons music-hall.