But the tower looked desolate.
The camp was gayer, cosier. Suddenly she resolved to invite them all to
dine in the camp that night.
Marelle returned with Batouch. She saw them from a distance coming
through the darkness with blazing torches in their hands. When they came
to her she said:
"Batouch, I want you to order dinner in camp for the soldiers."
A broad and radiant smile irradiated the blunt Breton features of
Marelle.
"And Monsieur the officer will dine with me and Monsieur. Give us all
you can. Perhaps there will be some gazelle."
She saw him opening his lips to say that the dinner would be poor and
stopped him.
"You are to open some of the champagne--the Pommery. We will drink to
all safe returns. Now, give me the brand and go and tell the cook."
As he took his torch and disappeared into the darkness De Trevignac
came out from the tower. He still looked exhausted and walked with some
difficulty, but he had washed the sand from his face with water from the
artesian well behind the tower, changed his uniform, brushed the sand
from his yellow hair, and put on a smart gold-laced cap instead of his
sun-helmet.
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