But the man insisted:
"It's for this evening, for to-night.... It's a soldier of the Börsweilen garrison.... He says he's sick of wearing the German uniform."
"A deserter.... I've had enough of them.... Shut up and clear out!"
"Now don't be nasty, M. Morestal.... Just think it over.... Look here, let's meet at four o'clock, in the pass, near Saboureux's Farm ... like last time.... I shall expect you.... We'll have a talk ... and I shall be surprised if ..."
"Hold your tongue!" said Morestal.
A voice cried from the drawing-room:
"Here they come, sir, here they come!"
It was the man-servant; and Mme. Morestal also ran out and said:
"What are you doing here? Whom were you talking to?"
"Why, I heard you!..."
"No, I assure you...."
"Well, I must have imagined it.... I say you were quite right. It's twelve o'clock and the