bject which risked leading the conversation back
to Captain de Saint-Avit."

Chatelain had spoken almost in a whisper, and the little people of the
desert had not heard this singular history. It was an hour since we
had fired our last cartridge. Around the pool the turtle doves, once
more reassured, were bathing their feathers. Mysterious great birds
were flying under the darkening palm trees. A less warm wind rocked
the trembling black palm branches. We had laid aside our helmets so
that our temples could welcome the touch of the feeble breeze.

"Chatelain," I said, "it is time to go back to the bordj."

Slowly we picked up the dead doves. I felt the Sergeant looking at me
reproachfully, as if regretting that he had spoken. Yet during all the
time that our return trip lasted, I could not find the strength to
break our desolate silence with a single word.

The night had almost fallen when we arrived. The flag which
surmounted the post was still visible, drooping on its standard, but
already its colors were indistinguishable. To the west the sun had
disappeared behind the dunes gashed against the black violet of the
sky.

When we had crossed the gate of the fortifications, Chatelain left me.

"I am going to the stables," he said.

I returned alone to that part of the fort where the billets for the
Europeans and the stores of ammunition were located. An inexpressible
sadness weighed upon me.

I thought of my comrades in French garrisons. At this hour they must
be returning home to find awaiting them, spread out upon the bed,
their dress uniform, their braided tunic, their sparkling epaulettes.

"Tomorrow," I said to myself, "I shall request a change of station."

The stairway of hard-packed earth was already black. But a few gleams
of light still seemed palely prowling in the office when I entered.

A man was sitting at my desk, bending over the files of orders. His
back was toward me. He did not hear me enter.

"Really, Gourrut, my lad, I beg you not to disturb yourself. Make
yourself completely at home."

The man had risen, and I saw him to be quite tall, slender and very
pale.

"Lieutenant Ferrieres, is it not?"

He advanced, holding out his hand.

"Captain de Saint-Avit. Delighted, my dear fellow."

At the same time Chatelain appeared on the threshold.

"Sergeant," said the newcomer, "I cannot congratulate you on the
little I have seen. There is not a camel saddle which is not in want
of buckles