318 THE IMAGE OF WAR 



Two days later my good friend the Brigadier of 

 Gendarmerie knocked at my door. I provided him 

 with a cigar and a drink, and then asked him to what 

 I was to attribute the pleasure of his visit. 



" ilibn Capitaine," said he, " did you shoot a badger 

 two days ago ? " 



Good heavens ! Was that what he'd come about ? 

 (What a difference from the phrase in the newspaper 

 reports at home — " Warned the accused not to say 

 anything, as it might be used against him ! ") 



*' If I did," I replied, "and should not have done, 

 you wouldn't expect me to incriminate myself, would 

 you ? " 



*' Come, come, we know all about it." 



*^ The devil doubt you," I thought, " considering 

 half the town saw me bring it home." 



*' Yes," he continued, " it was the old forester who 

 lodged the complaint, and I am afraid they'll prosecute 

 you. 



^' What for ? " 



*^For shooting in the close season." 



*' But badgers aren't game." 



Whereat he shrugged his epaulettes and took his 

 leave. 



Sure enough, some days after this I received a 

 citation to appear at Luxemburg to answer the 

 charges of (1) shooting out of season, and (2) causing 

 game (sic) to be transported in the close season. 

 When the appointed day arrived the old forester 

 was the first witness (?). His evidence would, I 

 think, have been the death of an English lawyer. 

 He had heard I had shot a badger ; he had been told 

 I had hurried home and returned with a gun ; people 

 said I had brought a badger back, &c. Yet my 



