To his idea they were only naughty children, their minds reasoning no more clearly than they saw the streets through the tiny little squares of bottle-glass in the windows of their homes.
All at once they came face to face with Detricand.

The chevalier stopped short with pleased yet wistful surprise.

His brow knitted when he saw that his compatriot had been drinking again, and his eyes had a pained look as he said eagerly: "Have you heard from the Comte de Tournay, monsieur?
I have not seen you these days past.

You said you would not disappoint me." Detricand drew from his pocket a letter and handed it over, saying: "This comes from the comte." The old gentleman took the letter, nervously opened it, and read it slowly, saying each sentence over twice as though to get the full meaning.
"Ah," he exclaimed, "he is going back to France to fight for the King!" Then he looked at Detricand sadly, benevolently.

"Mon cher," said he, "if I could but persuade you to abjure the wine-cup and follow his example!" Detricand drew himself up with a jerk.