in bewilderment
and compassion. She saw them now exchange guarded glances, as though
measuring each other's penetration.

The Comtesse leaned back. "I beg you to proceed," she said, with a
sigh. Elsie reached over the arm of the chair and took her hand and
held it.

The little Colonel shrugged his shoulders.

"Since Madame la Comtesse wishes it," he said. "But some years
elapsed before I saw either of them again. Madame Bertin had said
nothing which could encourage me to call at the house in the impasse,
and there was no message from him to carry thither. I heard--it was
said--that she, too, left the city; Bertin's exit from the service
was arranged, and thus the matter seemed to close. I preserved
certain memories, which I still preserve; I was the richer by them.
Then came active service, expeditions to the interior, some fighting
and much occupation. It chanced that I was fortunate; I gained some
credit and promotion; and by degrees the affair of Bertin sank to
rest in the background of my life. It was a closed incident, and I
was reconciled never to have it reopened. But it seems one can never
be sure that a thing is ended; possibly Bertin in his hiding-place
thought as I did and made the same mistake. I heard the news when I
visited Algiers on my way to a post up-country at the edge of the
desert. New powers had taken charge of our business; there was a new
General, an austere, mirthless man, who knew of Bertin's existence,
and resented it. He had been concerned here and there in more than
one enterprise of an unpleasant flavor, and it was the General's
intention to put a period to him. My friends in barracks told me of
it, perfunctorily; and my chief sense was of disgust that Bertin
should continue to be noticeable. And then I went away up-country, in
a train that carried me beyond the borders of civilization, and set
me down at last one dawn at a point where a military line trickled
out into the vast yellow distance, against an undulated horizon of
sandhills. It was in the chill hour of the morning; a few sentries
walked their beats, and beyond them there was a plot of silent tents.
The station was no more than planks laid on the ground beside some
locked iron sheds, a tank for the engine, and a flagstaff. It was
infinitely forlorn and empty, with an air of staleness and
discomfort. At some distance, a single muffled figure sat apart on a
seat; I thought it was some Arab waiting for the day. Be judge,
then,