"Load the pistols! load them!" cried Stamm, exasperated. "I will fight with any one!"
But the Major shook his head with a smile of contempt.
"No, Monsieur Lieutenant," he said, "you will fight no more with your comrades. You have stained your uniform. We can no longer serve with you. The officers have charged me to say that, not wishing to make your deficiencies known to the Government, they ask you to give in your resignation on the cause of bad health. The surgeon will sign all necessary certificates. To-day is the 3d of May: you have from now to the 3d of June to quit the regiment."
"I will quit it, certainly; not because it is your desire, but mine," said Stamm, picking up his sabre and putting on his coat.
Then he leaped upon his horse, and galloped off toward the village, casting a last malediction to us all.
We all pressed round Zodomirsky. He was sad; more than sad, gloomy.
"Why did you force me to consent to this scoundrel's conditions, gentlemen?" he said. "Without you, I should never have accepted them."
"My comrades and I," said the Major, "will take all the responsibility. You have acted nobly, and I must tell you in the name of us all, M. Zodomirsky, that you are a man of honor." Then, turning to the officers: "Let us go, gentlemen; we must inform the Colonel of what has passed."
We mounted into the carriages. As we did so we saw Stamm in the distance galloping up the mountainside from the village upon his horse. Zodomirsky's eyes followed him.
"I know not what presentiment torments me," he said, "but I wish his pistol had been loaded, and that he had fired."