Jacques had his eyes fixed upon his decoration; he was thinking of the day when his colonel had pinned it on his breast; he remembered the battles in which he had taken part, his mind returned to the battlefield, and he saw himself surrounded by his comrades, and marching eagerly against the enemy; the memory of those glorious days revived his depressed spirit, and he forgot his sorrows and his brother’s coldness. At that moment, a young man, dressed very much like Jacques, but whose bright and animated face denoted neither depression nor poverty, came down a hill leading into the valley, whistling a military march, and marking time with a switch on the gooseberry bushes and lilacs which lined the road. On arriving in the valley, the traveller stopped and looked about in all directions. “What the deuce! not an inn! not a poor little wine-shop even! I wonder if I have gone astray? I don’t see any sign of a village, and I’m as thirsty as one possessed. But no matter! Forward!” And he began to sing: “I saw Jeanneton And her pretty little foot I even saw her----” “Ah! there’s someone at last. I say, my friend!” The traveller’s words were addressed to Jacques, who raised his eyes and recognized his faithful comrade; he ran toward him, exclaiming: “Ah! it is you, is it, my dear Sans-Souci?” “Why, it’s comrade Jacques! Pardieu! I couldn’t have better luck; wait till I lie down beside you in the shade of your walnut; I would rather be in the shade of a cask of burgundy; but however, one must accommodate oneself to everything.” “Still the same, Sans-Souci! still cheerful, and fond of good living!” “Oh! as for that, I shan’t change; cheerfulness is the wealth of poor devils like us. You know that I used to sing when we were going into battle! They--let me see--what do they call that?” “Disbanded.” “Yes, that’s it,--they disbanded us; and instead of being soldiers, here we are civilians again! Well, we must make the best of it; besides, we have always behaved well, and if there is any need to defend the country again some day, why then, forward march!” “Yes, but how are we to live meanwhile?” “Like other people, by working.” “My poor Sans-Souci! there are some people that live on the fat of the land without ever turning their hand; and others, with the best will in the world to work, can’t find any way to earn their living.” “Bah! you always look at the dark side. Didn’t your journey turn out well? You came into this region for some purpose.” “Oh! I found more than I expected.” “And you are not satisfied?” “I have no reason to be. I just saw my brother, and he received me like a beggar.” “Your brother is a wild Indian, whom I would beat with the flat of my sword if I still had one.” “My dress, my face, and my long moustaches--he didn’t like any of them.” “That’s a great pity! Didn’t he see that token of your valor?”