Then putting a hand on the sergeant's shoulder:
"As gentleman to gentleman, I count on your discretion."
The door shut softly and the sergeant turned sadly and went back to the Station, pondering over the personal annoyance this general post at night occasioned him.
He was greeted on his return by a few sharp words.
"Ah, there you are, Masson!... At last!... An event of the first importance occurs, an amazing scandal breaks out and you desert your post.... It's always the way if I'm not here to look after things. I shall have to report you, you know. Where have you been?"
The speaker was a man still quite young, who wore the ribbon of the Legion of Honor. It was the chief himself. On the way home from some late party he had dropped into the Station out of simple curiosity.
Was he awake or was he dreaming?
Fandor felt stiff all over, his head was heavy and his mind a blank.... And then came a thirst, a devouring, insatiable thirst.
Where he was and how he had arrived there were things past his comprehension.