Part 24 (1/2)
”Yes, Ma.r.s.eilles. Pa.s.sed by the doctor Paul as sound of body. Yes,”
and he resumed his questions.
”Nationality?”
”Swede.”
Captain Tavernay had a smattering of most languages, and he was greatly inclined to try his new recruit with a few questions in the Swedish tongue. But the etiquette of the Legion forbade. He went on without a smile--
”Age?”
”Thirty.”
”Vocation?”
”Fisherman.”
Captain Tavernay looked up. This time he could not help smiling.
”Well, it is as good as any other,” said he; and suddenly there was a sound of cries, and three soldiers burst out of a narrow entrance on the further side of the parade-ground and came running across the square to the Captain's quarters. Both Tavernay and Stretton looked through the door. There was not a tree in that great square; the sunlight poured down upon the bare brown s.p.a.ce with a blinding fierceness. All the recruits but Stretton had marched off; a second ago it had been quite empty and very silent. Now these three men were hurrying across it, shouting, gesticulating with their hands. Stretton looked at them with surprise. Then he noticed that one of them, the man running in the middle and a little ahead of the others, carried a revolver in his hand and brandished it. Moreover, from the look of his inflamed face, he was shouting threats; the others were undoubtedly shouting warnings. Sc.r.a.ps of their warnings came to Stretton's ears.
”Mon Capitaine!” ”Il veut vous tuer!” ”Rentrez!” They were straining every muscle to catch the threatening soldier up.
Stretton strode to the door, and a voice behind him cried--
”Halt!”
It was Tavernay who was speaking.
”But he is already halfway across the square.”
”Halt!”
And there was no disobeying the command. Captain Tavernay walked to the door.
”A Spanish corporal whom yesterday I degraded to the ranks,” said he.
”Half a pint of _aguardiente_, and here's the result.”
Captain Tavernay stepped out of the door and leisurely advanced towards the running men. He gave an order, he raised his hand, and the two soldiers who warned him fell back and halted. Certainly Captain Tavernay was accustomed to obedience. The Spanish ex-corporal ran on alone, straight towards Tavernay, but as he ran, as he saw the officer standing there alone, quietly waiting his onslaught, his threats weakened, his pace slackened. He came to a stop in front of Tavernay.
”I must kill yon!” he cried, waving his revolver.
”Yon shall kill me from behind, then,” said Tavernay, calmly. ”Follow me!” And he turned round, and with the same leisurely deliberation walked back to his room. The ex-corporal hesitated and--obeyed. He followed Captain Tavernay into the room where Stretton stood.
”Place your revolver on the table.”
The Spaniard again obeyed. Tavernay pushed open the door of an inner room.
”You are drunk,” he said. ”You must not be seen in this condition by your fellow-soldiers. Go in and lie down!”