Then, filling his own, he spilled a little in the steely dust of the smithy floor.

All did the same, though they knew not why.
"What's that for ?" asked the mealman.
"To show the Little Corporal, dear Corporal Violet, and my comrades of the Old Guard, that we don't forget them," cried Lagroin.
He drank slowly, holding his head far back, and as he brought it straight again, he swung on his heel, for two tears were racing down his cheeks.
The mealman wiped his eyes in sympathy; the charcoalman shook his head at the blacksmith, as though to say, "Poor devil!" and Parpon straightway filled their glasses again.

Madelinette took the flask to the old sergeant.

He looked at her kindly, and patted her shoulder.

Then he raised his glass.
"Ah, the brave Caron, the dear Lucette Caron! Ah, the time she dragged me from under the Russian's mare!" He smiled into the distance.