the German review
of which I have already spoken, when I started with uncontrollable
amazement. I had just read: _"Reise und Entdeckungen zwei
fronzosischer offiziere, Rittmeisters Morhange und Oberleutnants de
Saint-Avit, in westlichen Sahara."_

At the same time I heard my comrade's voice.

"Anything interesting in this number?"

"No," I answered carelessly.

"Let's see."

I obeyed; what else was there to do?

It seemed to me that he grew paler as he ran over the index. However,
his tone was altogether natural when he said:

"You will let me borrow it, of course?"

And he went out, casting me one defiant glance.

* * * * *

The day passed slowly. I did not see him again until evening. He was
gay, very gay, and his gaiety hurt me.

When we had finished dinner, we went out and leaned on the balustrade
of the terrace. From there out swept the desert, which the darkness
was already encroaching upon from the east.

Andre broke the silence.

"By the way, I have returned your review to you. You were right, it is
not interesting."

His expression was one of supreme amusement.

"What is it, what is the matter with you, anyway?"

"Nothing," I answered, my throat aching.

"Nothing? Shall I tell you what is the matter with you?"

I looked at him with an expression of supplication.

"Idiot," he found it necessary to repeat once more.

Night fell quickly. Only the southern slope of Wadi Mia was still
yellow. Among the boulders a little jackal was running about, yapping
sharply.

"The _dib_ is making a fuss about nothing, bad business," said
Saint-Avit.

He continued pitilessly:

"Then you aren't willing to say anything?"

I made a great effort, to produce the following pitiful phrase:

"What an exhausting day. What a night, heavy, heavy--You don't feel
like yourself, you don't know any more--"

"Yes," said the voice of Saint-Avit, as from a distance, "A heavy,
heavy night: as heavy, do you know, as when I killed Captain
Morhange."

III

THE MORHANGE-SAINT-AVIT MISSION

"So I killed Captain Morhange," Andre de Saint-Avit said to me the
next day, at the same time, in the same place, with a calm that took
no account of the night, the frightful night I had just been through.
"Why do I tell you this? I don't know in the least. Because of the
desert, perhaps. Are you a man capable of enduring the weight of that
confidence, and further, if necessary, of assumi