Military life in Italy : sketches - Societa italiana di storia militare

THE OFFICER OF THE GUARD.
2J
looks around and discovers that he is in a dormitory, a little
light at the end of the room dimly illumines all the objects
therein ;
all are silent, one could hear a fly stirring. Suddenly
one of the sleepers begins to snore, lightly at first, then more
-so as to be heard in the street. Some one
heavily, finally
wakes. A man near by stretches his arms, yawns, rubs his eyes,
and exclaims :
" Oh, there, could n't you sleep a little more like a
Christian "
? No change, he does not seem to have understood.
"Do you understand? You are to sleep more like a Christian,"
the man shouts louder still.
It had no effect, one might as well
talk to a stone wall. "Body of a bomb shell " cries the infuri-
!
" "
I '11 fix
you now !
ated man springing out of bed.
He approaches,
seizes him by both his arms, gives him such a vigorous
shake that he makes his
bed and all those around about tremble.
The snorer stirs, wakes, half sees and understands, gives a
kick to the counterpane, a shout, a spring, is on his feet in a
moment with a pillow in
his hand, and down it comes on the
neck of the unfortunate aggressor with a blinding blow.
The
latter gives as good as he takes ;
the first one pursues him, a
third rushes to the assistance of the weaker ;
a fourth to the
defense of the first,
a regular scuffle ensues,
all dash from their
beds, the uproar increases ;
the light goes out ;
the men get
mixed up ;
a window pane
is broken, another too, the knapsacks
come down from the shelves, the sheets from the beds,
the muskets from the racks. . . . The poor dreamer dazed,
trembling, hardened by rage, is
just about to give a loud shout
that will be heard above that infernal racket, and bends himself
in order to dash into the thick of the fight.
. . .
At that point he heard some one knocking vigorously at the
door, and it seemed as if a voice called his name. Trembling,