"And how about escaping by way of the interior?" asked Schneider. Jacques laughed and gave examples of men who had tried that business and their horrible fate. "It's a fool's game," said he, "however you take it; but why do you talk of it so much. Do you want to escape?" "Not I," said Schneider. "I am as happy here as anywhere else. I am interested in the subject, that is all." But despite his interest in the subject, he did not refer to it again, and it seemed to Jacques for a moment as they returned to barracks that under the calm and listless demeanour of his friend there lay an uneasy spirit; the spirit of the slave that has sold himself into slavery and who has awakened to the galling of his chains. Then he dismissed the subject from his mind. Schneider seemed contented, and if he did want to escape, he would without doubt have told the fact to his one friend in the Legion--Jacques. One day, some two months later, Schneider took Jacques aside. "You have asked me once or twice," said he, "about my nationality and the place where I came from. I told you I was an Austrian and that was the truth. I am, in fact, a Viennese. My family is one of the oldest in Austria and I left my home and forsook my position on account of an unfortunate love affair. You are my friend, and so I tell you this, trusting that you will keep my secret." Jacques, greatly flattered by the confidence of the other, swore eternal secrecy, and Schneider went on: "The girl I loved," said he, "was my equal socially, young, charming, wealthy; she had discarded the attention of half Vienna, had chosen me just as I had chosen her by that instantaneous power of selection which Love alone bestows." "_Oui, oui,_" said Jacques, scarcely understanding all this and quite at a loss before the melodramatic language of the other, who, in fact, seemed reciting some passage out of a cheap novel rather than some experience from his own life. "Everything went well," continued Schneider, "till one fatal day we quarrelled." "Ah, _mon Dieu_," said Jacques. "You quarrelled; and what did you quarrel about?" "That I cannot tell you," replied Schneider, "It is a matter I do not care to refer to; it is sufficient that we quarrelled. I could not endure life any longer, I left my country and, seeking an active life, I came here." "You certainly have got what you came to look for," said Jacques; "and what has become of her; does she know where you are?" "My friend," said Schneider, "not only does she know where I am, but she is at the present moment in Sidi-bel-Abbès." "In Sidi-bel-Abbès?" "Yes. She is staying at the Hôtel d'Oran; she has written to me and wishes to see me." "And you are going?" "No, I am not going," said Schneider. "Never again shall I see her."