"Yes. He is dead."
VIII
Why has Hell been painted as a place of hopeless torture and
eternal lamentation?
I believe that even in the lowest depths of Hell, the damned sing,
jest, and play cards. I am led to imagine this after seeing these
men rowing in their galleys, chained to them by fever and wounds.
Blaireau, who has only lost a hand, preludes in an undertone:
Si tu veux fair' mon bonheur....
This timid breath kindles the dormant flame. Houdebine, who has a
fractured knee, but who now expects to be fairly comfortable till
the morning, at once responds and continues:
Marguerite! Marguerite!
The two sing in unison, with delighted smiles:
Si tu veux fair' mon bonheur
Marguerite! Marguerite!
Maville joins in at the second verse, and even Legras, whose two
legs are broken, and the Chasseur Alpin, who has a hole in his
skull.
Panchat, the man who had a bullet through his neck, beats time
with his finger, because he is forbidden to speak.
All this goes on in low tones; but faces light up, and flush, as
if a bottle of brandy had been passed round.
Then Houdebine turns to Panchat and says: "Will you have a game of
dummy manilla, Panchat?"
Dummy manilla is a game for two; and they have to be content with
games for two, because no one in this ward can get up, and
communication is only easy for those in adjacent beds.
Panchat makes a sign of consent. Why should he not play dummy
manilla, which is a silent game.
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