ill. I was suffering from fever and dysentery, probably due to the

vitiated air of the place, and it is a wonder to me now how we all escaped typhoid fever. I asked for the doctor, and when he had examined me, he gave orders that I should be immediately removed to hospital, where I was detained for a fortnight before I recovered.

In February came the usual examination, after which the Captain told me that he had hoped to be able to discharge me from the service then, but that my behaviour prevented his doing so. I need not describe for a second time the drudgery of our daily work, which was a mere repetition of what I had gone through the previous year. De Cormet never allowed a week to pass without sending me to the _Salle de Police_ on some pretext or other. Lieutenant Amy had also taken a great dislike to me, but I am bound to confess that he never punished me except on one occasion. It was during the month of March; I had been ordered to command the company, and I had to get executed the movement of "Shoulder arms." I was reciting the theory, and explaining the movement as stated in the regulations, when Sergeant de Cormet interrupted me in the middle of my explanation, and told me that I was wrong. He made me begin again, and when I once more reached the passage where he had interrupted me, he asked why I altered the text of the regulations. I replied that I did so because the previous year Sergeant Legros had made us alter the passage, and had made us learn it as I was then reciting it. "So," cried out de Cormet, "now you take it upon yourself to alter the regulations which have been drawn up by the highest authorities in the army!"

"No, Sergeant," I said, "I have not taken it upon myself, but was told to do so."

"Don't tell lies," retorted the Sergeant; "you will have four days' _Salle de Police_ for not knowing your theory."

"But, Sergeant," I said, "you can inquire from Sergeant-major Legros whether I am telling you the truth or not."

"You dare answer!" shouted the Sergeant. Just then Lieutenant Amy came along, and hearing a row inquired what was the matter. "It's Decle, of course, sir," de Cormet told him.

"What has he done?" queried the Lieutenant.

"The gentleman finds that the regulations are not correct, and he takes it upon himself to correct them, and has the impertinence to answer me that they are written in bad French."

"I am sick of the fellow," replied the Lieutenant; "are you mad, Decle?" he asked.

"No, sir," I answered very calmly, "and I wish to observe that Sergeant de Cormet has not correctly reported what I just now said to him."

"You scoundrel!" exclaimed the Lieutenant. "You have the impudence to tell me that your Sergeant is a liar! You will have four days' prison." I knew by experience that to complain, or appeal to the Colonel, would only mean an increase of my punishment, and I therefore quietly prepared myself to go to prison when I returned to barracks. The overcrowding of the _Salle de Police_ had become so great by that time that a special lock-up was used for the prisoners, which was similar to the _Salle_, but much smaller. I had once more Titi for a companion, as he had been up to some more tricks, and he was waiting his trial before _Conseil de discipline_, which had been convened to decide whether he should be sent to a punishment battalion in Africa to finish his time or service there. He didn't feel much depressed at the idea. "It will be a change, old chap," he used to say to me, "and I don't suppose that I shall be bullied there more than I am here; besides, I have only one year and a half more to serve, and that will soon be over." It was this fact which saved him, and he was acquitted by a majority of one, although the General bestowed sixty days' prison on him for his last prank. (He had for the third time absconded for five days.)

I had taken Conway's book to the prison, in order to finish its translation, and only ten pages more were left, when one of the Majors happened to walk in. The door stood open to admit the trooper who was bringing our food, and I had no time to put away my MS. The Major pounced upon it. "That's how you occupy your time," he said; "give me all those papers." I had to hand them over to him, and he tore them up and chucked the pieces into the slop-pail. So ended my first literary attempt.

The four days I spent in prison, coupled with the moral state of despair into which I had fallen, had pretty well broken me down in health. I suffered from incessant headaches and rheumatic pains, and I had to be sent to hospital once more on coming out of prison.

All my thoughts were by that time concentrated upon devising some means of leaving the hell the regiment had become to me. Desertion was out of the question, not that it would have been difficult for me to pass into Belgium, or cross over to England, but I had too much respect for myself and my family to turn a common deserter.