In the regimental orders of the day the Colonel stated that the application of Trooper Decle to see him was granted, and that the said Trooper Decle would have to be at his house at 1 P.M. the next day. I therefore got Titi and my other orderly to clean my clothes and my equipment with the utmost care, and at one o'clock sharp I proceeded to the Colonel's house. I was received by one of his orderlies, who took me to the kitchen. He went to inform the Colonel that I was there, and returned saying that the Colonel had sent word that I must wait. The cook very graciously offered me a cup of coffee, and during the good three-quarters of an hour that I had to wait she related to me the details of her family history, telling me that she had already saved £20, which would make a nice little dowry when she got married, and also suggesting that I should take her out for a walk next Sunday. (I could only politely express my regret at being unable to do this, as I was undergoing punishment.) She further told me that she did not care much for her place, as "_la Colonelle_"[42] was too close-fisted, and there was not enough _grattage_ (perquisites) in the place. At the end of three-quarters of an hour the Colonel's orderly told me to walk upstairs, and showed me into a study where the Colonel was writing at a desk, in regimental trousers, a pair of slippers, and a black alpaca coat. He did not turn round, and I stood, helmet in hand, near the door. I had quite forgotten the regulations, and, finding myself in polite society, I had instinctively uncovered. Just as I remembered that I ought to keep my helmet on, and was replacing it, the Colonel, hearing me move, turned his head round. "What are you fiddling about with your helmet for?" he asked. "Stand still, will you?" and he went on writing. Ten minutes later he ordered me to come forward. I saluted and stood at attention. "Take off your helmet," said the Colonel. I took it off. "Your hair is too long, you will have to get it cut; and you will soon get a court-martial if you go on like that. Put on your helmet. What do you want?" "Sir," I began, "I have been punished----" "Punished!" he exclaimed. "Yes, you are always punished. You are the worst trooper in my regiment. We don't want men like you in the French army. What do you want?" "Sir," I once more began, "I have been punished by Corporal----" "I know it," he replied, waxing quite angry. "I told you so before, you are always punished--always punished. If it is to tell me that you have come here, you might have stopped at the barracks. Why the deuce don't you tell me what you want? Do you think I am standing here at your orders?" "If you will allow me to explain, sir," I replied, "I will tell you why and how I have been punished." "I don't want to know anything about it," said the Colonel, in an angry voice. "Let me see, how many days have you got?" "Twenty days, sir," I said. "Have you finished your punishment?"