I looked in the direction he indicated, and saw a tall man of about thirty, whose stalwart form and straight shoulders betokened the soldier. He was reading one of the bills on the walls. This information interested me immensely, and I was just thinking of how I could best approach this individual with the view of obtaining fresh details, when the door of the Commandant's office opened suddenly and a non-commissioned officer appeared, and, to my consternation, shouted out my name. Instinctively I rose and answered "Present," just as if I were answering to a call-over at school, all the other occupants of the room eyeing me curiously as I did so. In response to a gesture from the sergeant I stepped across, entered the office, and found myself in the presence of a gentleman in the uniform of a major of the line, who was seated at a big table covered with papers and text-books. He was a red-faced man of about forty, with short-cropped grey hair and a heavy moustache of the same tint. The eyes that looked into mine had a kindly light in them, which belied the somewhat brusque manner of their owner. I uncovered as I entered the room, and saluted him with the stereotyped "_Bonjour, Monsieur!_" to which he nodded a response, and, without further preamble, said: "So you are desirous of enlisting in one of the Régiments Étrangers?" "Yes, sir," I replied. "Since when have you come to that decision?" This unexpected question rather nonplussed me, but regaining my composure I answered with apparent coolness: "Oh! since yesterday." He smiled, and then said, to my astonishment and anger: "_Eh bien!_ you are a fool, my friend. Ah! that hurts you, doesn't it?" (I had flushed at his observation). "Sure proof that stern discipline would not suit you," he continued. Then in a softened and more kindly tone he rattled along so quickly that there was no chance of putting in a word: