As he mentioned the name of the accursed Butte, I could not repress a movement. He saw it and said:
"Sir, I am glad to go there."
And he told me his name and the number of his company. Then he hurried away.
It chanced that precisely one week later I met one of his officers. I asked him about the merry fellow.
"That man? He was killed the day before yesterday at Eparges."
And my comrade added in a low voice:
"He was shot down at my side, struck with a bullet square in the chest. The death agony set in at once. As I was trying to do something for him, passing my hand gently across his forehead, I said to him:
"Courage, my boy, courage."
He murmured the reply:
"Oh, I'm glad to die."