A man of fifty who owed his nickname to the current report that he had spent twenty years in Africa, both as a soldier and a convict.
While Ernestine and her friends hastened to his table, the Sapper's companion, a heavily built man, rose carelessly and slouched off to join another group, muttering:
"I'm too near the window here."
"It's Nonet," explained the Sapper to Ernestine. "He's home from New Caledonia, and he doesn't care to show himself much just now."
The girl nodded, and pointing to one of her companions, became confidential. "Look at poor Mimile, here. He's just out of quod and has to start right off to do his service. Pretty tough."
The Sapper became very interested in the conversation. Meanwhile Nonet, as he crossed the tap-room, had stopped a few moments before a pretty girl who was evidently expecting some one.
"Waiting again for the Square, eh, Josephine?" Nonet inquired.
The girl, whose big blue eyes contrasted strikingly with her jet black hair, replied:
"Why not? Loupart doesn't think of quitting me that I know of."
"Well, when he does let me know," Nonet suggested smilingly.