Fontainebleau, his second native place, was, provisionally, the central point of his existence.

There he felt himself loved, hated, feared, admired--in a word, well known.

He knew that in that sub-prefecture his name could not be spoken without awakening an echo.

But what attached him more than all to modern times, was his well-established relationship with the great family of the army.
Wherever a French flag floats, the soldier, young or old, is at home.
Around that church-spire of the fatherland, though dear and sacred in a way different from the village spire, language, ideas, and institutions change but little.

The death of individuals has little effect; they are replaced by others who look like them, and think, talk, and act in the same way; who do not stop on assuming the uniform of their predecessors, but inherit their souvenirs also--the glory they have acquired, their traditions, their jests, and even certain intonations of their voices.
This accounts for Fougas' sudden friendship, after a first feeling of jealousy, for the new colonel of the 23d; and the sudden sympathy which he evinced for M.du Marnet as soon as he saw the blood running from his wound.