He turned round the writing-chair in which he had been sitting, made her take it—perched himself upon the corner of the writing-table, a schoolboy of fifteen in spite of his uniform, pouring out his heart to a girl older than he.
"It was horrible here until you came!... I was so lonely! Everybody looks so strange, and no news comes through. It would have been better to have stayed at Metz, where there is fighting. But no! We were compelled to return to Châlons.... On our way we were nearly caught by the German cavalry. They are terribly daring ... they even ventured into our lines at Longeville.... But we got to Verdun and traveled to Châlons in a third-class carriage. Frightfully dirty, and full of things that bit.... And I washed my face in a thick glass tumbler, out of which I had drunk some wine they brought me.... Fact, I assure you!... But we soldiers don't mind hardships.... We get used to them, Mademoiselle!"
She looked up at the brightened face with the tenderness of an elder sister. He went on with increasing animation and growing confidence:
"Do you see that little black box standing there in the corner? That's my officer's kit—all the baggage we're allowed to have on Active Service. There are other boxes with other things..." He blushed. "The valets look after them.... But this I keep under my own eye. And here!... This I hold as a great treasure. Do you think I would show it to everyone?... Non, merci! ... Behold, Mademoiselle!"
He took from a pocket beneath his tunic and showed her a splinter of rusty iron wrapped in an envelope.
"Guess what this is! A bit of a real German bombshell.... It burst quite close to the Emperor and me.... I thought a lot of old iron was being shot out of a cart, there was such a racket.... This should be a keepsake for the friend one loves above all, should it not? Otherwise I would give it you, Mademoiselle!"
She said:
"Monseigneur is too generous.... I need no token by which to remember him!... Have I not the remembrance of the sympathy and condescension with which my Prince has listened to a daughter's prayer?... Now, indeed, I must take leave of Monseigneur!..."
He persisted with boyish eagerness:
"No, no! M. d'Aure will certainly return at the end of our ten minutes. And I do like you so much, Mademoiselle!... Will you write and tell me when the Emperor obtains the release of M. le Colonel? ... Will you let me hear how you liked the little sketch I gave M. de Straz for you?"