know that much, and I'll take your word of honour for it. Otherwise, I shall be very sorry, but the doctor must be called in."
"I neither admit anything nor deny anything," I returned. "But if this form of words will suffice you, here is what I say: I give you my parole, as a gentleman and a soldier, there has nothing taken place amongst us prisoners that was not honourable as the day."
"All right," says he. "That was all I wanted. You can go now, Champdivers."
And as I was going out he added, with a laugh: "By-the-bye, I ought to apologise: I had no idea I was applying the torture!"
The same afternoon the doctor came into the courtyard with a piece of paper in his hand. He seemed hot and angry, and had certainly no mind to be polite.
"Here" he cried. "Which of you fellows knows any English? O!"—spying me—"there you are, what's your name! You'll do. Tell these fellows that the other fellow's dying. He's booked; no use talking; I expect he'll go by evening. And tell them I don't envy the feelings of the fellow who spiked him. Tell them that first."
I did so.
"Then you can tell 'em," he resumed, "that the fellow, Goggle—what's his name?—wants to see some of them before he gets his marching orders. If I got it right, he wants to kiss or embrace you, or some sickening stuff. Got that? Then here's a list he's had written, and you'd better read it out to them—I can't make head or tail of your beastly names—and they can answer present, and fall in against that wall."
It was with a singular movement of incongruous feelings that I read the first name on the list. I had no wish to look again on my own handiwork; my flesh recoil d from
