“And what are you doing there, my good fellow?”
“I had tuel, and killed the man; I have walked for more days⸺”
“Yes, we know all about that!”
“So you had a duel, eh?” asked another, and they all laughed with nervous suddenness at the picture of this vagabond defending his honour at twenty paces.
“Well, is that all you have to say?”
“I would eat.”
“Yes! your two friends inside also have big appetites. But come to the point. Have you anything to tell us about your compatriots inside there?”
Since his throttling by Soltyk, Kreisler had changed. He knew he was beaten. There was nothing to do but to die. His body ran to the German frontier as a chicken’s does down a yard, headless, from the block.
Kreisler did not understand the official. He muttered that he was hungry. He could hardly stand. Leaning his shoulder against the wall, he stood with his eyes on the ground. He was making himself at home! “What a nerve!”
“Va t’en! If you don’t want to tell us anything, clear out. Be quick about it! A pretty lot of trouble you cursed Germans are giving us. You’ll none of you speak when it comes to the point. You all stand staring like boobies. But that won’t pay here. Of you go!”