Part 17 (2/2)

”They say you are to have the Military Medal,” the head doctor told him.

Leglise confided to me later, with some hesitation:

”I don't suppose they would really give me the medal!”

”And why not?”

”I was punished; one of my men had some b.u.t.tons off his overcoat.”

Oh, my friend, scrupulous lad, could I love my countrymen if they could remember those wretched b.u.t.tons for an instant?

”My men!” he said gravely. I look at his narrow chest, his thin face, his boyish forehead with the serious furrow on it of one who accepts all responsibilities, and I do not know how to show him my respect and affection.

Leglise's fears were baseless. General G----arrived just now. I met him on the terrace. His face pleased me. It was refined and intelligent.

”I have come to see Corporal Leglise,” he said.

I took him into the ward, full of wounded men, and he at once went towards Leglise unhesitatingly, as if he knew him perfectly.

”How are you?” he asked, taking the young man's hand.

”Mon General, they've cut off my leg...”

”Yes, yes, I know, my poor fellow. And I have brought you the Military Medal.”

He pinned it on to Leglise's s.h.i.+rt, and kissed my friend on both cheeks, simply and affectionately.

Then he talked to him again for a few minutes.

I was greatly pleased. Really, this General is one of the right sort.

The medal has been wrapped in a bit of muslin, so that the flies may not soil it, and hung on the wall over the bed. It seems to be watching over the wounded man, to be looking on at what is happening. Unfortunately, what it sees is sad enough. The right leg, the only leg, is giving us trouble now. The knee is diseased, it is in a very bad state, and all we have done to save it seems to have been in vain. Then a sore has appeared on the back, and then another sore. Every morning, we pa.s.s from one misery to another, telling the beads of suffering in due order.

So a man does not die of pain, or Leglise would certainly be dead. I see him still, opening his eyes desperately and checking the scream that rises to his lips. Oh! I thought indeed that he was going to die. But his agony demands full endurance; it does not even stupefy those it a.s.sails.

I call on every one for help.

”Genest, Barra.s.sin, Prevot, come, all of you.”

Yes, let ten of us do our best if necessary, to support Leglise, to hold him, to soothe him. A minute of his endurance is equal to ten years of such effort as ours.

Alas! were there a hundred of us he would still have to bear the heaviest burden alone.

All humanity at this hour is bearing a very cruel burden. Every minute aggravates its sufferings, and will no one, no one come to its aid?

We made an examination of the wounded man, together with our chief, who muttered almost inaudibly between his teeth:

”He must be prepared for another sacrifice.”

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