Atlantida | Page 9

were so beautiful under the
moon! I let myself be carried farther and farther...."
"I have no reproaches to make, dear fellow, you are free, and the chief here. Only allow
me to recall to you certain warnings concerning the Chaamba brigands, and the
misfortunes that might arise from a Commandant of a post absenting himself too long."
He smiled.
"I don't dislike such evidence of a good memory," he said simply.
He was in excellent, too excellent spirits.
"Don't blame me. I set out for a short ride as usual. Then, the moon rose. And then, I
recognized the country. It is just where, twenty years ago next November, Flatters
followed the way to his destiny in an exaltation which the certainty of not returning made
keener and more intense."
"Strange state of mind for a chief of an expedition," I murmured.
"Say nothing against Flatters. No man ever loved the desert as he did ... even to dying of
it."
"Palat and Douls, among many others, have loved it as much," I answered. "But they
were alone when they exposed themselves to it. Responsible only for their own lives,

they were free. Flatters, on the other hand, was responsible for sixty lives. And you
cannot deny that he allowed his whole party to be massacred."
The words were hardly out of my lips before I regretted them, I thought of Chatelain's
story, of the officers' club at Sfax, where they avoided like the plague any kind of
conversation which might lead their thoughts toward a certain Morhange-Saint-Avit
mission.
Happily I observed that my companion was not listening. His brilliant eyes were far
away.
"What was your first garrison?" he asked suddenly.
"Auxonne."
He gave an unnatural laugh.
"Auxonne. Province of the Cote d'Or. District of Dijon. Six thousand inhabitants. P.L.M.
Railway. Drill school and review. The Colonel's wife receives Thursdays, and the Major's
on Saturdays. Leaves every Sunday,--the first of the month to Paris, the three others to
Dijon. That explains your Judgment of Flatters.
"For my part, my dear fellow, my first garrison was at Boghar. I arrived there one
morning in October, a second lieutenant, aged twenty, of the First African Batallion, the
white chevron on my black sleeve.... Sun stripe, as the bagnards say in speaking of their
grades. Boghar! Two days before, from the bridge of the steamer, I had begun to see the
shores of Africa. I pity all those who, when they see those pale cliffs for the first time, do
not feel a great leap at their hearts, at the thought that this land prolongs itself thousands
and thousands of leagues.... I was little more than a child, I had plenty of money. I was
ahead of schedule. I could have stopped three or four days at Algiers to amuse myself.
Instead I took the train that same evening for Berroughia.
"There, scarcely a hundred kilometers from Algiers, the railway stopped. Going in a
straight line you won't find another until you get to the Cape. The diligence travels at
night on account of the heat. When we came to the hills I got out and walked beside the
carriage, straining for the sensation, in this new atmosphere, of the kiss of the outlying
desert.
"About midnight, at the Camp of the Zouaves, a humble post on the road embankment,
overlooking a dry valley whence rose the feverish perfume of oleander, we changed
horses. They had there a troop of convicts and impressed laborers, under escort of
riflemen and convoys to the quarries in the South. In part, rogues in uniform, from the
jails of Algiers and Douara,--without arms, of course; the others civilians--such civilians!
this year's recruits, the young bullies of the Chapelle and the Goutte-d'Or.
"They left before we did. Then the diligence caught up with them. From a distance I saw
in a pool of moonlight on the yellow road the black irregular mass of the convoy. Then I
heard a weary dirge; the wretches were singing. One, in a sad and gutteral voice, gave the

couplet, which trailed dismally through the depths of the blue ravines:
"'Maintenant qu'elle est grande, Elle fait le trottoir, Avec ceux de la bande A
Richard-Lenoir.'
"And the others took up in chorus the horrible refrain:
"'A la Bastille, a la Bastille, On aime bien, on aime bien Nini Peau d'Chien; Elle est si
belle et si gentille A la Bastille'
"I saw them all in contrast to myself when the diligence passed them. They were terrible.
Under the hideous searchlight their eyes shone with a sombre fire in their pale and shaven
faces. The burning dust strangled their raucous voices in their throats. A frightful sadness
took possession of me.
"When the diligence had left this fearful nightmare behind, I regained my self-control.