"Sergeant!" Elodie flung up her head in disdain. "He is _Commandant_. And see to it that you are not wanting in respect."
"From which outburst of conjugal ferocity, my dear fellow," said Bakkus, "you can gauge the conscientiousness of my guidance of Elodie during your absence."
Andrew grinned happily. He was full of faith in both of them--loving woman, loyal friend.
"It is true," said he, "that I have found my vocation."
"What are you going to do when the war is over and Othello's occupation is gone?"
"I don't think the war will ever be over," he laughed. "It's no good looking ahead. For the present one has to regard soldiering as a permanent pursuit."
"I thought so," said Bakkus. "He'll cry when it's over and he can't move his pretty soldiers about."
"That is true?" asked Elodie, in the tone of one possessed of insight.
Andrew shrugged his shoulders, a French trick out of harmony with his British uniform.
"I too," said Elodie, "will be sorry when you become _Petit Patou_ again."
He touched her cheek caressingly with the back of his hand, and smiled. Strange how the war had brought her the gift of understanding. Never had he felt so close to her.
"All the same," added Elodie, "it is very dangerous _là-bas, mon chéri_--and I don't want you to get killed."
"All the glory and none of the death," said Bakkus. "Conducted on those principles, warfare would be ideal employment for the young. But you would be going back to the Middle Ages, when, if a knight were killed, he was vastly surprised and annoyed. Personally I hate the war. It prevents me from earning a living, and insults me with the sense of my age, physical decay and incapacity. I haven't a good word to say for it."
"If you only went among the wounded in the Paris hospitals," replied Andrew, with some asperity, "and sang to them--"
"My good fool," said Bakkus, "I've been doing that for about four or five hours a day since the war began, till I've no voice left."
"Didn't you know?" cried Elodie. "Horace has never worked so hard in his life. And for nothing. In his way he is a hero like you."
"Why the devil didn't you tell me?" cried Andrew.
Bakkus flung a hand. "If you hadn't to dress the part what should I have known of your rank and orders? Would you go about saying 'I'm a dam fine fellow'?"