ave
a long arm, that will drive my sabre through his bones as easily as his
will penetrate my flesh."

The thought of the blows made him insensible to reason; and soon Chazy,
the _maitre d'armes_, Corporal Fleury, Furst, and Leger came in. They
all said that Zebede was in the right, and the _maitre d'armes_ added
that blood alone could wash out the stain of a blow; that the honor of
the recruits required Zebede to fight.

Zebede answered proudly that the men of Phalsbourg had never feared the
sight of a little blood, and that he was ready. Then the _maitre
d'armes_ went to see our Captain, Florentin, who was one of the most
magnificent men imaginable--tall, well-formed, broad-shouldered, with
regular features, and the Cross, which the Emperor had himself given
him at Eylau. The captain even went further than the _maitre d'armes_;
he thought it would set the conscripts a good example, and that if
Zebede refused to fight he would be unworthy to remain in the Third
Battalion of the Sixth of the Line.

All that night I could not close my eyes. I heard the deep breathing
of my poor comrade as he slept, and I thought: "Poor Zebede! another
day, and you will breathe no more." I shuddered to think how near I
was to a man so near death. At last, as day broke, I fell asleep, when
suddenly I felt a cold blast of wind strike me. I opened my eyes, and
there I saw the old hussar. He had lifted up the coverlet of our bed,
and said as I awoke:

"Up, sluggard! I will show you what manner of man you struck."

Zebede rose tranquilly, saying:

"I was asleep, veteran; I was asleep."

The other, hearing himself thus mockingly called "veteran," would have
fallen upon my comrade in his bed; but two tall fellows who served him
as seconds held him back, and, besides, the Phalsbourg men were there.

"Quick, quick! Hurry!" cried the old hussar.

But Zebede dressed himself calmly, without any haste. After a moment's
silence, he said:

"Have we permission to go outside our quarters, old fellows?"

"There is room enough for us in the yard," replied one of the hussars.

Zebede put on his great-coat, and, turning to me, said:

"Joseph and you, Klipfel, I choose for my seconds."

But I shook my head.

"Well, then, Furst," said he.

The whole party descended the stairs together. I thought Zebede was
lost, and thought it hard, that not only must the Russians seek our
lives, but that we must seek each other's.

All the men