“He annoyed me; so much the worse.”

Every morning at mess and at the canteen the first words were:  “Has the acceptance of the major’s resignation arrived?” The duel was impatiently expected and ardently discussed.  The majority believed that Laguitte would be run through the body in three seconds, for it was madness for a man to fight with a paralyzed leg which did not even allow him to stand upright.  A few, however, shook their heads.  Laguitte had never been a marvel of intellect, that was true; for the last twenty years, indeed, he had been held up as an example of stupidity, but there had been a time when he was known as the best fencer of the regiment, and although he had begun as a drummer he had won his epaulets as the commander of a battalion by the sanguine bravery of a man who is quite unconscious of danger.  On the other hand, Burle fenced indifferently and passed for a poltroon.  However, they would soon know what to think.

Meanwhile the excitement became more and more intense as the acceptance of Laguitte’s resignation was so long in coming.  The major was unmistakably the most anxious and upset of everybody.  A week had passed by, and the general inspection would commence two days later.  Nothing, however, had come as yet.  He shuddered at the thought that he had, perhaps, struck his old friend and sent in his resignation all in vain, without delaying the exposure for a single minute.  He had in reality reasoned thus:  If he himself were killed he would not have the worry of witnessing the scandal, and if he killed Burle, as he expected to do, the affair would undoubtedly be hushed up.  Thus he would save the honor of the army, and the little chap would be able to get in at Saint-Cyr.  Ah, why wouldn’t those wretched scribblers at the War Office hurry up a bit?  The major could not keep still but was forever wandering about before the post office, stopping the estafettes and questioning the colonel’s orderly to find out if the acceptance had arrived.  He lost his sleep and, careless as to people’s remarks, he leaned more and more heavily on his stick, hobbling about with no attempt to steady his gait.

On the day before that fixed for the inspection he was, as usual, on his way to the colonel’s quarters when he paused, startled, to see Mme Burle (who was taking Charles to school) a few paces ahead of him.  He had not met her since the scene at the Cafe de Paris, for she had remained in seclusion at home.  Unmanned at thus meeting her, he stepped down to leave the whole sidewalk free.  Neither he nor the old lady bowed, and the little boy lifted his large inquisitive eyes in mute surprise.  Mme Burle, cold and erect, brushed past the major without the least sign of emotion or recognition.  When she had passed he looked after her with an expression of stupefied compassion.

“Confound it, I am no longer a man,” he growled, dashing away a tear.

When he arrived at the colonel’s quarters a captain in attendance greeted him with the words:  “It’s all right at last.  The papers have come.”