But Burguet, when with me, dared not obey the old man; he was ashamed of his weakness, and merely made a little motion of his head while he seated himself at the opposite table, where coffee was served to us. The comrades came soon, and Solomon began to fleece them. Burguet turned his back to them; I tried to divert his attention, but his heart was with them; he listened to all the throws, and yawned in his hand. About seven o'clock, when the room was full of smoke, and the balls were rolling on the billiard tables, suddenly a young man, a soldier, entered, looking round in all directions. It was the deserter. He saw us at last, and approached us with his foraging cap in his hand. Burguet looked up and recognized him; I saw him turn red; the deserter, on the contrary, was very pale; he tried to speak, but could not say a word. "Ah! my friend!" said Burguet, "here you are, safe!" "Yes, sir," replied the conscript, "and I have come to thank you for myself, for my father, and for my mother!" "Ah!" said Burguet, coughing, "it is all right! it is all right!" He looked tenderly at the young man, and asked him softly, "You are glad to live?" "Oh! yes, sir," replied the conscript, "very glad." "Yes," said Burguet, in a low voice, looking at the clock; "it would have been all over now! Poor child!" And suddenly beginning to use the _thou_ he said, "Thou hast had nothing with which to drink my health, and I have not another sou. Moses, give him a hundred sous." I gave him ten francs. The deserter tried to thank me. "That is good!" said Burguet, rising. "Go and take a drink with thy comrades. Be happy, and do not desert again." He made as if he would follow Solomon's playing; but when the deserter said, "I thank you, too, for her who is expecting me!" he looked at me sideways, not knowing what to answer, so much was he moved. Then I said to the conscript, "We are very glad that we have been of assistance to you; go and drink the health of your advocate, and behave yourself well." He looked at us for a moment longer, as if he were unable to move; we saw his thanks in his face, a thousand times better than he had been able to utter them. At length he slowly went out, saluting us, and Burguet finished his cup of coffee. We meditated for some minutes upon what had passed. But soon the thought of seeing my family seized me. Burguet was like a soul in purgatory. Every minute he got up to look on, as one or another played, with his hands crossed behind his back; then he sat down with a melancholy look. I should have been very sorry to plague him longer, and, as the clock struck eight, I bade him good-evening, which evidently pleased him. "Good-night, Moses," said he, leading me to the door. "My compliments to Madame Sorlé, and Madame Zeffen." "Thank you! I shall not forget it."