"What do you say?" asked Surgeon-major Lesage from the youngest Lieutenant. "Oh, invalid him," he quickly replied. "Yes," said the next Lieutenant. "Yes," said his neighbour. "No," replied the fourth Lieutenant, who sat near Captain Hermann. "Decidedly not," said my Captain. This looked bad; two nays to three ayes. "Better invalid him," said the second Captain. "By all means," murmured the Major with his eyes shut. I was no longer a trooper! I thought I was going to faint. "Invalidation No. 1?" queried the doctor. "Yes, yes," the Major cried, striking his chair with his fist; "but d---- it, let us go on. I want my lunch, and I am off if you don't hurry up." A form was filled in by the dispensary Corporal acting as clerk: this was signed, and the doctor told me that my papers would be handed over to me in the evening. When I came out there was no need to ask me what the result was: it was written on my face. "Must I congratulate you?" asked the Sergeant. "Yes," I said, shaking him by the hand; "but tell me," I added, "what does 'Invalidation No. 1' mean?" "You don't mean to say that they have granted you that! Why, man alive! it means a pension of £24 a year for life!" I was astounded. Half an hour later the Commission had retired, and I suggested stopping at a café on our way back to barracks. The Sergeant assented, and I offered him and my comrades a bottle of champagne to celebrate this glorious day--the happiest day in my existence, I believe. When I returned to the barracks I met Sergeant de Cormet in the yard. "Where are you coming from?" he cried: "I thought that you were at the infirmary." "Yes, Sergeant, but I have just come from a turn in the town." "We shall see about that," he answered. "I went out on duty, Sergeant." "I'll make sure of that; but in any case," he sneered, "you won't be always at the infirmary, and when you come out you will soon find yourself in the wrong box." "I don't think so, Sergeant," I said, laughing; "in fact, I am going to Paris to-night." "With whose leave, please?" "Superior authorities," I said. "If you mean to laugh at me," he replied in angry tones, "I shall have you consigned to prison." "No, Sergeant, no more _Salle de Police_, prison, or cells for me--in fact, in case I do not see you again, I shall wish you good-bye now, or rather _au revoir_, as I hope I may meet you soon. You see I am no longer a Dragoon: I have just been invalided." "It can't be," he said, astounded. "_I_ should have heard of your being proposed for _invalidation_." "You don't hear everything," I replied; "but if you don't believe me, here comes the dispensary Corporal, and he has my papers." He did not add a word, and went off shrugging his shoulders eloquently. The news soon spread through the barracks, and many were the congratulations I received.