has kept me.  When, overcome with fatigue, I have found myself in the rear of the colors, and when the musketry was rattling in the front ranks, many a time I heard a voice, which whispered in my ear, ’Leave the others to fight, and for today take care of your own hide!’ But then, that word Francais! murmured within me, and I pressed forward to help my comrades.  At other times, when, irritated by hunger, cold, and wounds, I have arrived at the hovel of some Meinherr, I have been seized by an itching to break the master’s back, and to burn his hut; but I whispered to myself, Francais! and this name would not rhyme with either incendiary or murderer.  I have, in this way, passed through kingdoms from east to west, and from north to south, always determined not to bring disgrace upon my country’s flag.  The lieutenant, you see, had taught me a magic word—­My country!  Not only must we defend it, but we must also make it great and loved.”

October 17th.—­To-day I have paid my neighbor a long visit.  A chance expression led the way to his telling me more of himself than he had yet done.

I asked him whether both his limbs had been lost in the same battle.

“No, no!” replied he; “the cannon only took my leg; it was the Clamart quarries that my arm went to feed.”

And when I asked him for the particulars—­

“That’s as easy as to say good-morning,” continued he.  “After the great break-up at Waterloo, I stayed three months in the camp hospital to give my wooden leg time to grow.  As soon as I was able to hobble a little, I took leave of headquarters, and took the road to Paris, where I hoped to find some relative or friend; but no—­all were gone, or underground.  I should have found myself less strange at Vienna, Madrid, or Berlin.  And although I had a leg the less to provide for, I was none the better off; my appetite had come back, and my last sous were taking flight.

“I had indeed met my old colonel, who recollected that I had helped him out of the skirmish at Montereau by giving him my horse, and he had offered me bed and board at his house.  I knew that the year before he had married a castle and no few farms, so that I might become permanent coat-brusher to a millionaire, which was not without its temptations.  It remained to see if I had not anything better to do.  One evening I set myself to reflect upon it.

“‘Let us see, Chaufour,’ said I to myself; ’the question is to act like a man.  The colonel’s place suits you, but cannot you do anything better?  Your body is still in good condition, and your arms strong; do you not owe all your strength to your country, as your Vincennes uncle said?  Why not leave some old soldier, more cut up than you are, to get his hospital at the colonel’s?  Come, trooper, you are still fit for another stout charge or two!  You must not lay up before your time.’

“Whereupon I went to thank the colonel, and to offer my services to an old artilleryman, who had gone back to his home at Clamart, and who had taken up the quarryman’s pick again.