On the day we enticed him away, Jules, having lost his lieutenant, had also lost his position as orderly, and forfeiting his privileges occupied a lower position in the ranks. The adjutant, whose offers he had scorned, told him dryly that he would return to the squadron without any position at all. Jules did not like disputes, and pretended to submit to his destiny. He resumed his place in the squadron, though only to occupy himself with our personal affairs, in spite of officials, roll-calls and laws. The personal affairs of six soldiers in the second class do not seem a very serious matter, especially in such busy times. Still, it took all Jules' activity to attend to them. "I say, old fellow, we are coming down from the outposts this evening and sleeping in the village. Run along and find us a house." Jules pretends to be considerably embarrassed. He raises his arms, takes his _képi_ between his first finger and thumb, and scratching his head with his other three fingers, says-- "That's just your way! Jules, find me this, or Jules, find me that! This very morning, Jules cut the roll-call to do your messages, and the corporal marked him absent." "Come! come! not so much talk. We shall be in the village by nightfall. You must get there before us. We rely on you for beds and dinner." "What if I am caught by the gendarmes? Or suppose I meet the colonel?" Then we appeal to his vanity-- "You can easily outwit all the gendarmes in the place. And a fellow like you is clever enough to make up some plausible tale that will satisfy the colonel." An appeal is also made to his interests. Nothing further is needed, and when, five minutes afterwards, some one calls for Jules, he has disappeared. The lodging is found and dinner in full swing. Jules confides to the company in general-- "At first the mistress refused to lodge six soldiers. But I talked her round. Besides, I gave her to understand that you were real gentlemen." The natives of the South of France may be braggarts; anyhow, this one from the Franche-Comté could easily give them points. If mention is made of a farmer's wife or even of some lady of the manor within a radius of ten leagues, Jules begins to cluck like a hen, to slap his hands on his thighs, and with appropriate gestures he gives us to understand that he knows the lady in question very well indeed. In his own district he was attached to a farm, and in his leisure hours he most certainly gave himself up to poaching. Not on account of the war will he abandon his petty occupations. No, indeed, something must be done to break the monotony of trench life. From time to time, in spite of gendarmes and regulations, Jules trips over to Soissons. He returns with an entire bazaar in his _musettes_. "I sell it all again, you know, at cost price," he explains. "There are times when I lose." "Of course!"