e right of choosing among the vacant places. There
was one in the regiment quartered at Souvigny, and Souvigny was three
miles from Longueval. Jean asked for this, and obtained it.

Thus Jean Reynaud, lieutenant in the ninth regiment of artillery, came
in the month of October, 1880, to take possession of the house that had
been his father's; thus he found himself once more in the place where
his childhood had passed, and where every one had kept green the memory
of the life and death of his father; thus the Abbe Constantin was not
denied the happiness of once again having near him the son of his old
friend, and, if the truth must be told, he no longer wished that Jean
had become a doctor.

When the old Cure left his church after saying mass, when he saw coming
along the road a great cloud of dust, when he felt the earth tremble
under the rumbling cannon, he would stop, and, like a child, amuse
himself with seeing the regiment pass, but to him the regiment
was--Jean. It was this robust and manly cavalier, in whose face, as in
an open book, one read uprightness, courage, and goodness.

The moment Jean perceived the Cure, he would put his horse to a gallop,
and go to have a little chat with his godfather. The horse would turn
his head toward the Cure, for he knew very well there was always a piece
of sugar for him in the pocket of that old black soutane--rusty and
worn--the morning soutane. The Abbe Constantin had a beautiful new
one, of which he took great care, to wear in society--when he went into
society.

The trumpets of the regiment sounded as they passed through the village,
and all eyes sought Jean--"little Jean"-for to the old people of
Longueval he was still little Jean. Certain wrinkled, broken-down,
old peasants had never been able to break themselves of the habit of
saluting him when he passed with, "Bonjour, gamin, ca va bien?"

He was six feet high, this gamin, and Jean never crossed the village
without perceiving at one window the old furrowed parchment skin of
Clemence, and at another the smiling countenance of Rosalie. The latter
had married during the previous year; Jean had given her away, and
joyously on the wedding-night had he danced with the girls of Longueval.

Such was the lieutenant of artillery, who, on Saturday, May 28, 1881, at
half-past four in the afternoon, sprang from his horse before the door
of the vicarage of Longueval. He entered the gate, the horse obediently
followed, and went