Lieut. Feraud's neck for him. But this formula was figurative rather
than precise, and expressed more a state of mind than an actual physical
impulse. At the same time, there was in that young man a feeling of
comradeship and kindness which made him unwilling to make the position
of Lieut. Feraud worse than it was. He did not want to talk at large
about this wretched affair. At the inquiry he would have, of course, to
speak the truth in self-defence. This prospect vexed him.

But no inquiry took place. The army took the field instead. Lieut.
D'Hubert, liberated without remark, took up his regimental duties; and
Lieut. Feraud, his arm just out of the sling, rode unquestioned with his
squadron to complete his convalescence in the smoke of battlefields and
the fresh air of night bivouacs. This bracing treatment suited him so
well, that at the first rumour of an armistice being signed he could
turn without misgivings to the thoughts of his private warfare.

This time it was to be regular warfare. He sent two friends to Lieut.
D'Hubert, whose regiment was stationed only a few miles away. Those
friends had asked no questions of their principal. "I owe him one, that
pretty staff officer," he had said, grimly, and they went away quite
contentedly on their mission. Lieut. D'Hubert had no difficulty in
finding two friends equally discreet and devoted to their principal.
"There's a crazy fellow to whom I must give a lesson," he had declared
curtly; and they asked for no better reasons.

On these grounds an encounter with duelling-swords was arranged one
early morning in a convenient field. At the third set-to Lieut. D'Hubert
found himself lying on his back on the dewy grass with a hole in his
side. A serene sun rising over a landscape of meadows and woods hung on
his left. A surgeon--not the flute player, but another--was bending over
him, feeling around the wound.

"Narrow squeak. But it will be nothing," he pronounced.

Lieut. D'Hubert heard these words with pleasure. One of his seconds,
sitting on the wet grass, and sustaining his head on his lap, said, "The
fortune of war, mon pauvre vieux. What will you have? You had better
make it up like two good fellows. Do!"

"You don't know what you ask," murmured Lieut. D'Hubert, in a feeble
voice. "However, if he . . ."

In another part of the meadow the seconds of Lieut. Feraud were urging
him to go over and shake hands with his adversary.

"You have paid him off now--que di