"I really do," said Tremont serenely. "You see, when we came on the boat we scarcely hoped to be so fortunate as to bring back the distinguished captain." Sabron smiled. "But you have not told me yet," he said, "why you came down." "No," said Tremont, "that is true. Well, it will make a story for the sea." CHAPTER XXVII VALOR IN RETROSPECT In the month of May, when the chestnuts bloom in the green dells, where the delicate young foliage holds the light as in golden cups, a young man walked through one of the small _allées_ of the Bois at the fashionable noon hour, a little reddish dog trotting at his heels. The young man walked with an imperceptible limp. He was thin as men are thin who have lived hard and who have overcome tremendous obstacles. He was tanned as men are browned who have come from eastern and extreme southern countries. The little dog had also an imperceptible limp occasioned by a bicycle running over him when he was a puppy. The two companions seemed immensely to enjoy the spring day. Sabron every now and then stood for a few moments looking into the green of the woods, looking at the gay passers-by, pedestrians and equestrians, enjoying to the full the repose of civilization, the beauty of his own land. Pitchouné looked with indifference upon the many dogs. He did not stir from his master's side. When Sabron was quiet, the little animal stood at attention; he was a soldier's dog. He could have told dog stories to those insignificant worldly dogs--could have told of really thrilling adventures. His brown eyes were pathetic with their appeal of affection as they looked up at his beloved master. He had a fund of experience such as the poodles and the terriers led by their owners, could not understand. Therefore Pitchouné was indifferent to them. Not one of those petted, ridiculous house dogs could have run for miles in the dark across an African desert, could have found the regiment and fetched relief to his master. Pitchouné was proud of it. He was very well satisfied with his career. He was still young; other deeds of valor perhaps lay before him--who can tell? At any rate, he had been shown about at the ministry of war, been very much admired, and he was a proud animal. When Sabron spoke to him he leaped upon him and wagged his tail. After a few moments, as the two stood near the exit of an _allée_ leading to one of the grand avenues, Pitchouné slowly went in front of his master and toward two ladies sitting on a bench in the gentle warmth of the May sunlight. Pitchouné, moved from his usual indifference, gave a short bark, walked up to the ladies, and began to snuff about their feet. The younger lady exclaimed, and then Sabron, lifting his hat, came forward, the crimson color beating in his dark tanned cheeks. The Marquise d'Esclignac held out both hands to the officer: "It's nearly noon," she said, "and you don't forget that you have promised to lunch with us, do you, Monsieur le Capitaine?"