He went up excitedly to the Chink, who sat behind the row of bottles along the bar. “Well, what's happening?” “Where?” “By the Gare de l'Est, where they were putting up barricades?” “Barricades!” shouted a young man in a red sash who was drinking at a table. “Why, they tore down some of the iron guards round the trees, if you call that barricades. But they're cowards. Whenever the cops charge they run. They're dirty cowards.” “D'you think anything's going to happen?” “What can happen when you've got nothing but a bunch of dirty cowards?” “What d'you think about it?” said Andrews, turning to the Chink. The Chink shook his head without answering. Andrews went out. When he cams back he found Al and Chrisfield alone in their room. Chrisfield was walking up and down, biting his finger nails. On the wall opposite the window was a square of sunshine reflected from the opposite wall of the Court. “For God's sake beat it, Chris. I'm all right,” Al was saying in a weak, whining voice, his face twisted up by pain. “What's the matter?” cried Andrews, putting down a large bundle. “Slippery's seen a M. P. nosin' around in front of the gin mill.” “Good God!” “They've beat it.... The trouble is Al's too sick.... Honest to gawd, Ah'll stay with you, Al.” “No. If you know somewhere to go, beat it, Chris. I'll stay here with Al and talk French to the M. P.'s if they come. We'll fool 'em somehow.” Andrews felt suddenly amused and joyous. “Honest to gawd, Andy, Ah'd stay if it warn't that that sergeant knows,” said Chrisfield in a jerky voice. “Beat it, Chris. There may be no time to waste.” “So long, Andy.” Chrisfield slipped out of the door. “It's funny, Al,” said Andrews, sitting on the edge of the bed and unwrapping the package of food, “I'm not a damn bit scared any more. I think I'm free of the army, Al.... How's your hand?” “I dunno. Oh, how I wish I was in my old bunk at Coblenz. I warn't made for buckin' against the world this way.... If we had old Dan with us.... Funny that you know Dan.... He'd have a million ideas for gettin' out of this fix. But I'm glad he's not here. He'd bawl me out so, for not havin' made good. He's a powerful ambitious kid, is Dan.” “But it's not the sort of thing a man can make good in, Al,” said Andrews slowly. They were silent. There was no sound in the courtyard, only very far away the clatter of a patrol of cavalry over cobblestones. The sky had become overcast and the room was very dark. The mouldy plaster peeling off the walls had streaks of green in it. The light from the courtyard had a greenish tinge that made their faces look pale and dead, like the faces of men that have long been shut up between damp prison walls. “And Fuselli had a girl named Mabe,” said Andrews. “Oh, she married a guy in the Naval Reserve. They had a grand wedding,” said Al. IV “At last I've got to you!”