hands she spread
the white sheets, snowy white, dazzling in their whiteness.

Ah! those clean, white sheets, so long coveted, so ardently desired;
Jean had eyes for naught save them. For six weeks he had not had his
clothes off, had not slept in a bed. He was as impatient as a child
waiting for some promised treat, or a lover expectant of his mistress's
coming; the time seemed long, terribly long to him, until he could
plunge into those cool, white depths and lose himself there. Quickly, as
soon as he was alone, he removed his shoes and tossed his uniform across
a chair, then, with a deep sigh of satisfaction, threw himself on the
bed. He opened his eyes a little way for a last look about him before
his final plunge into unconsciousness, and in the pale morning light
that streamed in through the lofty window beheld a repetition of his
former pleasant vision, only fainter, more aerial; a vision of Henriette
entering the room on tiptoe, and placing on the table at his side a
water-jug and glass that had been forgotten before. She seemed to linger
there a moment, looking at the sleeping pair, him and her brother, with
her tranquil, ineffably tender smile upon her lips, then faded into air,
and he, between his white sheets, was as if he were not.

Hours--or was it years? slipped by; Jean and Maurice were like dead men,
without a dream, without consciousness of the life that was within them.
Whether it was ten years or ten minutes, time had stood still for them;
the overtaxed body had risen against its oppressor and annihilated their
every faculty. They awoke simultaneously with a great start and looked
at each other inquiringly; where were they? what had happened? how
long had they slept? The same pale light was entering through the tall
window. They felt as if they had been racked; joints stiffer, limbs
wearier, mouth more hot and dry than when they had lain down; they could
not have slept more than an hour, fortunately. It did not surprise
them to see Weiss sitting where they had seen him before, in the same
dejected attitude, apparently waiting for them to awake.

"_Fichtre_!" exclaimed Jean, "we must get up and report ourselves to the
first sergeant before noon."

He uttered a smothered cry of pain as he jumped to the floor and began
to dress.

"Before noon!" said Weiss. "Are you aware that it is seven o'clock in
the evening? You have slept about twelve hours."

Great heavens, seven o'clock! They were thunderstru