“Listen, Major,” began Morandot, “that was very wrong on your part.  The captain is your inferior in rank, and you know that he won’t be allowed to fight you.”

“That remains to be seen,” answered the major.

“But how has he offended you?  He never uttered a word.  Two old comrades too; it is absurd.”

The major made a vague gesture.  “No matter.  He annoyed me.”

He could never be made to say anything else.  Nothing more as to his motive was ever known.  All the same, the scandal was a terrible one.  The regiment was inclined to believe that Melanie, incensed by the captain’s defection, had contrived to entrap the major, telling him some abominable stories and prevailing upon him to insult and strike Burle publicly.  Who would have thought it of that old fogy Laguitte, who professed to be a woman hater? they said.  So he, too, had been caught at last.  Despite the general indignation against Melanie, this adventure made her very conspicuous, and her establishment soon drove a flourishing business.

On the following day the colonel summoned the major and the captain into his presence.  He censured them sternly, accusing them of disgracing their uniform by frequenting unseemly haunts.  What resolution had they come to, he asked, as he could not authorize them to fight?  This same question had occupied the whole regiment for the last twenty-four hours.  Apologies were unacceptable on account of the blow, but as Laguitte was almost unable to stand, it was hoped that, should the colonel insist upon it, some reconciliation might be patched up.

“Come,” said the colonel, “will you accept me as arbitrator?”

“I beg your pardon, Colonel,” interrupted the major; “I have brought you my resignation.  Here it is.  That settles everything.  Please name the day for the duel.”

Burle looked at Laguitte in amazement, and the colonel thought it his duty to protest.

“This is a most serious step, Major,” he began.  “Two years more and you would be entitled to your full pension.”

But again did Laguitte cut him short, saying gruffly, “That is my own affair.”

“Oh, certainly!  Well, I will send in your resignation, and as soon as it is accepted I will fix a day for the duel.”

The unexpected turn that events had taken startled the regiment.  What possessed that lunatic major to persist in cutting the throat of his old comrade Burle?  The officers again discussed Melanie; they even began to dream of her.  There must surely be something wonderful about her since she had completely fascinated two such tough old veterans and brought them to a deadly feud.  Morandot, having met Laguitte, did not disguise his concern.  If he—­the major—­was not killed, what would he live upon?  He had no fortune, and the pension to which his cross of the Legion of Honor entitled him, with the half of a full regimental pension which he would obtain on resigning, would barely find him in bread.  While Morandot was thus speaking Laguitte simply stared before him with his round eyes, persevering in the dumb obstinacy born of his narrow mind; and when his companion tried to question him regarding his hatred for Burle, he simply made the same vague gesture as before and once again repeated: