know that when I smoke at this hour all Tarascon must be kept utterly silent?" 

 Tarascon is never silent. No French meridional town is, especially in the warm sunlight of a glorious May day. 

 "The noise, mon Capitaine," said Brunet, "is rather melancholy." 

 "Melancholy!" exclaimed the young officer.  "It's infernal. Stop it at once." 

 The ordonnance held his kepi in his hand. He had a round good-natured face and kind gray eyes that were used to twinkle at his master's humor and caprices. 

 "I beg pardon, mon Capitaine, but a very serious event is taking place." 

 "It will be more serious yet, Brunet, if you don't keep things quiet." 

 "I am sorry to tell, mon Capitaine, that Michette has just died." 

 "Michette!" exclaimed the master. "What relation is she of yours, Brunet?" 

 "Ah, mon Capitaine," grinned the ordonnance, "relation! None! It is the little terrier that Monsieur le Capitaine may have remarked now and then in the garden." 

 Sabron nodded and took his cigarette out of his mouth as though in respect for the deceased. 

 "Ah, yes," he said, "that melancholy little dog! Well, Brunet!" 

 "She has just breathed her last, mon Capitaine, and she is leaving behind her rather a large family." 

 "I am not surprised," said the officer. 

 "There are six," vouchsafed Brunet, "of which, if mon Capitaine is willing, I should like to keep one." 

 "Nonsense," said Sabron, "on no account. You know perfectly well, Brunet, that I don't surround myself with things that can make me suffer. I have not kept a dog in ten years. I try not to care about my horses even. Everything to which I attach myself dies or causes me regret and pain. And I won't have any miserable little puppy to complicate existence." 

 "Bien, mon Capitaine," accepted the ordonnance tranquilly.  "I have given away five. The sixth is in the stable; if Monsieur le Capitaine would come down and look at it...." 

 Sabron rose, threw his cigarette away and, following across 

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