Front matter (continued 4)

"That was just at the beginning! It was up to the Bosches to advance. We let them cross the river.... Heavens! How they swarmed! Then all at once the 75's began to talk!... Their bridges were smashed up at once. And the arms and legs and heads that were flying about!... It appears to have been highly entertaining!"

"And now?"

"We're pursuing them. Bringing up reinforcements, and masses of artillery!"

He added:

"But we've been badly cut up!"

"In ours?"

"If you saw the ambulance, just over there!"

Frémont interrupted:

"Halloa! That our lot starting?"

"Yes, there was something doing down there."

"Au revoir, Dagomert, old chap!"

We hurried along. The men had got their packs on, and were assembling without any more signs of emotion than when starting for an ordinary route march. The lieutenant's excitement was in striking contrast with the phlegmatic appearance of the rest. He was fussing and running up and down.

"Entrenching tools.... Entrenching tools in your belts! Cartridges where you can get at them!"

"Don't you worry!" murmured Lamalou testing the mechanism of his rifle.

Henriot came up at once.

"Made up their minds at last. Not a bit too early either."

He had a wild look in his eye. It pleased me to excite him still more:

"Things are not going badly you know!"

"What! What! Have you heard something?"

I repeated the information the motor-cyclist had given us. He hurriedly consulted his map.

"On the bank, you say? We're pursuing them? Oh, but that means a great victory!"

The captain blew his whistle. We formed into a semi-circle.

"My friends ..." he began.

Armed with a piece of straw, Humel was tickling his neighbour's neck. This childishness shocked me.

The captain said only a few words. He was nothing of an orator. I was afraid for a moment that his speech might end in gibbering. He recovered himself and concluded. And the men seemed moved by it. It didn't take much to do the trick!

The company formed up again, by platoons, in columns of four. I considered my companions, one by one, with passionate curiosity.

Bouillon was licking his lips, topping that last bit of cheese! Judsi had got hold of Siméon, and was ragging him, telling him that big louts like him would be the first to be knocked out. Siméon was genuinely amused by the idea. Lamalou was calmly blackening Icard's, the miller's, sight. They might all have been a hundred miles away from the battle-field where more than one of them would fall!

And Guillaumin? I asked him how he felt.

"Pretty fit, thanks. I've had a good nap!"

It did not seem to occur to him that I might be solicitous about his morale.

They were all heroes then. My goodness no! Simply happy-go-lucky! There was a slight distinction though, and whatever it was, they scored by a propitious frame of mind. I was afraid that I might show up badly, being the only one to remain clear-headed. What could be done about it? I forced a wry smile.

Then I saw that Corporal Donnadieu was looking very unhappy and depressed. His nostrils looked pinched, and he was gazing at the ground.... He was obviously not keen to fight. I felt sorry for him. He was no doubt thinking of his wife, of his two children, one of them on the way....

I caught sight of Frémont, standing stock-still in the rear of the first platoon. I knew what he was dreaming of too. I repented at the thought that I might have impaired his courage yesterday. A persistent shadow seemed to have clouded his face ever since ... I only hoped that he too might get through.

CHAPTER IX

THE BAPTISM OF FIRE

Once having left the wood, we reached the little hilltop of which I have already spoken.

In spite of having been told that the modern battle-field is empty, I had never imagined anything so desert like as this. Not a man to be seen in these fields which sloped gently downwards; it was abandoned territory.

The firing still continued to rage around us. We could even distinguish a distant crackling now, either rifle-firing or shrapnel, a sign that we were getting nearer.

When we passed by a Calvary, I saw some of the men sign themselves, Gaudéreaux and Trichet among others. They would never have done it during manœuvres. Why was I inclined to see in this Calvary one of the points which would decide the fate of the struggle? I think I must have been hypnotised by the remembrance of the one at Isly. I recollected Zola's superb pages in La Débâcle. Another passage which recurred to my mind was the description of Waterloo in La Chartreuse for which I had had a great admiration ever since my schooldays. I was tempted to compare myself with Fabrice. How far removed I was from his freshness of spirit, his youthful enthusiasm.

Guillaumin suddenly signed to me.

"Just look at that!"

Down below us, yonder, there rose a puff of smoke, then another nearer; a third; all in a line. They might have been little bonfires lit by an invisible hand. The bursting points of shells!

The noise of the short sharp reports reached us.

"Look out," Guillaumin whispered to me. "They're lengthening their range!"

We had stopped, silent and nonplussed. The captain galloped along the line.

"To fifty paces—extend."

Henriot bellowed, repeating the order. There was no panic. I think no one had fully realised yet that those slight puffs which had appeared were a direct menace to us.

We had taken up the extended order and went on marching, but with rather broken ranks.

"Close up! Close up!" shouted Henriot.

He was running. I noticed that he had drawn his sword. It was very funny. Did he think that he was about to charge? He tried to put it back into the sheath. He stumbled. The men nudged each other with their elbows. A pint of good blood!

Our "connecting file" rushed up.

"Blob formation!"

Henriot, who was still struggling with his scabbard, hesitated. Then he shouted:

"Left incline! No. Right incline! No. As you were!"

"He's all at sea!" said Guillaumin.

Suddenly.... What was happening? Something whistled past.

"Lie down!"

I threw myself down, and the men too, without waiting for the order. One did it instinctively.

"Testudos! Testudos!" bellowed Henriot, in an extraordinarily shrill voice.

There was a gigantic explosion close at hand; the ground shook. We were lying pêle-mêle, wherever we'd happened to fall, in groups of eight or ten, and covering much too much ground.

"Close! Close!" I shouted. "Glue yourselves on to each other."

But the ground was shaken again, some flints were sent flying against us. No one stirred. What an instant that was. I hardly dared to look round. As far as the eye could see our men were scattered over the ground in little driblets in the same way in which water spilt on a pavement trickles into tiny pools.

I had predicted that I would be clear-headed.

Shells poured from the radiant sky, preceded by their awe-inspiring blast. We realised which were meant for us, and would fall within a radius of two or three hundred yards. If a single one hit the mark nothing would be left of us but a bleeding mass. O God of Chance! I humbly placed myself in His hands. Second after second passed in the expectation of annihilation. Then I recovered a certain amount of detachment in the thought that I had lost all control over my fate. My thoughts were in a whirl. Life was a fine thing. I might have employed the time allotted to me very differently. My youth contained nothing. I detested Laquarrière. I had made a mess of my share of existence! And mixed with these regrets was a new hope hard to explain.

How many minutes had passed. There was a lull. A voice was raised; it was Bouillon's.

"Nobody killed!"

The relief of it! We raised ourselves up on to our knees. Some aeroplanes were circling above us. Taubes, of course!

"Up you get!"

The neighbouring section had started off again. We advanced rapidly. Our connecting file came towards us at the double.

"By sections!"

Henriot repeated:

"Dreher, Guillaumin, by sections!"

We looked at each other, then I exclaimed:

"Come along, the 2nd with me!"

The men did not seem to understand.

"Bouguet, Donnadieu."

Guillaumin had gone off to rally his thirty poilus.

Mine at last made up their minds to follow me, in some disorder.

What formation ought we to adopt? Two deep? Columns of four? Consult Henriot? I hailed him. Waste of energy. He went off making incomprehensible signals to Guillaumin. We must make the best of it.

"Two deep! Two deep!"

The booming began again ... for us, this lot!

"Kneel!"

I shook Siméon by the shoulder!

"Close! Testudos!"

A few actually remembered what to do—Lamalou and Bouillon. They stuck their heads between the legs of the men kneeling in front of them. Their neighbours imitated them.

I had been the last to get down, at the head of my small column. There was no one for me to shelter behind, so I ran a greater risk than any of the others.

"Get back here, Sergeant," said Corporal Bouguet, "we'll make room for you!"

I crawled back, and slipped in between him and Trichet.

"Thanks!"

I was guilty of a little bit of bluff and stuck my head out. There was a regular hurricane going on. All round us there were great spurts of smoke and dust, and clods of earth were hurled against us. But the pack seemed a great protection, and I felt that we were not very vulnerable really. Some shells did not burst, and I made a remark to that effect.

I had to watch the movements of the neighbouring sections in order to conform to them.

They were going on again.

"Advance!"

We went on.

"Pretty hot stuff!" said Judsi. "We ought to go in zigzags, best way to get through," he advised.

I approved.

Judsi's right. The range only varies in depth.

We were beginning to distinguish the sound of the different shells through this infernal din. The big ones were always impressive; we frankly snapped our fingers at the smaller ones.

"Is that all?" said Bouguet as a splinter of shrapnel bounced off his pack.

"Listen!" Lamalou exclaimed, "there are the 75's letting loose."

I don't know what we expected. A miracle—the immediate cessation of the enemy's fire. We were disillusioned. It redoubled in intensity. One or two shells again fell near by.

"Ah!" exclaimed Bouguet. "That got 'em!"

"Who?"

"The lads of No. 1! Fell slap in the middle of 'em."

A shiver ran down my back. I only hoped to goodness that Frémont was all right. Looking round I saw haggard faces turned towards us. Corporal Donnadieu was deadly white. I forced a smile and shouted:

"Halloa there! How are you getting along?"

"So, so," said Lamalou.

I nearly tripped over a black, cylinder-shaped mass.

"Look out there. A 'dud'!"

They avoided it and Bouillon said:

"Lucky you gave tongue like that. I was just going to tip it a hefty biff."

How long did that march under artillery fire last? We covered a good bit of ground, two or three broad undulations. We halted, and reformed and advanced. From time to time we came across an enormous hole, five or six feet across and three feet deep, which we had to go round.

"Pretty useful, their 'coal boxes,' to make such pits."

Happily, Judsi, cried:

"They're digging a grave for the Kaiser!"

My one idea was to keep my intervals.

Bouillon asked me whether a river we were coming to was the Meuse.

I made him repeat it. A river? Why so there was.... The Othain perhaps? For everyone was talking about it....

"How are we to get across? Swim?"

I was asking myself the same question. The bursts of firing grew less frequent. We advanced in rushes, for longer distances, but not so fast. We felt comparatively safe. Our attention was beginning to wander....

"Lie down! We're in for it now!"

There was a terrible explosion close by, on our left ... a flash, and a stinging blast. I saw Bouguet put his hand up to his cap; a bit of the peak had gone.

Looking up, I shouted:

"Anything the matter?"

"Yes!"

The squall was not over. Never mind that! I ran along. A man was writhing on the ground.

"It's Blanchet," said Judsi.

"Where's he hit?"

"In the bread-basket."

The poor fellow was lying doubled up on his side. He was holding back his guts with his two hands stuck through a hole in his greatcoat. At a movement he made to push his gun aside, I caught sight of them.... I was petrified with horror, just as I had been one evening when I had seen a child pulled from under a tram. But I realised that everyone's gaze was fixed on me. I said:

"Donnadieu, he's in your half-section, isn't he?"

The corporal did not answer. His face was mottled, and there were beads of perspiration on his forehead.

"You must ... take away his ammunition!" I continued.

He hesitated, then bent down with terrible repugnance, and touched the wounded man's cartridge-pouches. He had some difficulty in opening them, because his hands were trembling.

Blanchet was giving in, his eyes were growing dim, and yet he had the courage to move a little to enable us to undo his haversack, which was also emptied. I repeated:

"Come along! Come along. Hurry up!"

Donnadieu murmured:

"I say, Sergeant, surely you won't leave him like that?"

I read in his eyes the vague hope of staying behind, of slinking away....

"Come along! We must catch the others up!" I said impatiently.

Then less harshly:

"The stretcher party will come and pick him up; they are sure not to be far off."

I bent down over the wounded man:

"Do you hear, old chap?"

He gave me a poignant look, without uttering a word. I stammered:

"You'll be all right, you'll find! Au revoir!"

Then raising myself I added more firmly:

"And now we must get on!"

The men followed me, but there were some very painful moments to be got through.

"The father of a family!" signed Siméon who knew him.

Our column was lengthening. I waited for the stragglers.

"Come along! Donnadieu, Trichet!..."

The ground sloped down towards the river. We were surprised by a strange, fetid smell in the air, which was oddly out of keeping with this harmonious countryside, gilded by the summer. We tried to make out what it was.

"Corpses!"

"And not French ones either!"

It was a fact that these grey forms lying in the grass were Germans—a regular hecatomb. Rows upon rows of dead bodies, which, in some places, we had to step over.... When had they fallen there? A day or two before no doubt. The men drew each other's attention to some ravens wheeling overhead or perched near by, croaking.

Pouah!

I thought of nothing but how to keep my nose covered. The men were less horrified, and seemed on the contrary interested, some of them almost amused. They were brutes, at heart, with no respect for anything!

Lamalou made a vile remark, revived from Sylla:

"It's Bosche. It smells good!"

CHAPTER X

A MOMENT'S RESPITE

We reached the river which I afterwards discovered was the Loison. There was no difficulty there. Some foot-bridges had been erected, which bent beneath our weight till they touched the water.

On the other bank we were greeted by some Engineers.

"We've been working the water-wheel for you foot-sloggers! Isn't that worth a drink?"

We replied:

"In Berlin!"

The torrent of shells still continued, but passed over our heads. Our field-guns retorted, but only feebly, as we were well aware.

We began to clamber up the other side of the valley. More corpses! On our right we could see the smoking ruins of a village. But our morale had much improved, for we had just crossed the water-bed where the enemy's efforts had spent themselves in vain for three whole days.

Pffmm...! Pffmm...! We looked up.

"Pills?"

Bullets. Yes! An unpleasant sensation.

In the fields on a line with us, we caught sight of isolated soldiers (rotters—the lost lot), lying down or cowering on the ground, others dragging themselves along on their knees, or limping along. Where the deuce was the enemy? Perhaps at the edge of that wood about twelve hundred yards away, but invisible, needless to say.

A bank skirted a cross-road running along the side of the hill. We went towards it. Cover! Everyone felt the need of a real halt. The wish was fulfilled. We formed into sections.

Guillaumin greeted me with:

"Any of you hit? I was very much afraid so, for a minute!"

"A man named Blanchet," I said; "a splinter in the stomach!"

"Poor devil! Two kids, I believe!"

"And what about your lot?"

"Nobody. Not like the first. A shell made an awful mess of them."

"Frémont?"

"He wasn't touched, luckily."

Breton, the quartermaster-sergeant, joined us.

"Halloa, you chaps, going strong?"

We answered cordially:

"Not so bad for a start."

"We've done jolly well!" he said with naïve delight.

The captain came up accompanied by two subalterns. Some of the men began to get up.

"Stay as you are. It's not worth getting you fired at!"

"And what about you, sir!" Lamalou remarked.

"Oh, I'm taboo!"

The other gazed at him. The captain repeated:

"They can't do me any harm to-day!"

He smiled, his moustache bristling slyly. Then, turning to one of his companions:

"Pleased with your N.C.O.'s, Henriot?"

"Very much pleased, sir! Dreher and Guillaumin especially have done remarkably well!..."

"I was sure of it."

They went off. Guillaumin whispered:

"All over us, isn't he?"

He was joking, but I felt that he was touched and proud, dear chap that he was.

This rest did us both harm and good. Good, because we recovered from our exhaustion. We had a drink and a bite. Harm, because we softened and no one wanted to go on again.

An intermittent firing went on. Pffmm...! A bullet!... another!... and another!... Judsi pretended to catch them.

We heard that a man had just been killed in Ravelli's platoon, a bullet through his head. Confound it! We bent down. It was oppressively hot.

Then the artillery started off again. The order was passed along to lie down and protect our heads with our packs. The cartridge-pouches caused us agony. We stayed like that for nearly three-quarters of an hour. The men grew restless, and would rather have done a bolt, even forwards. I was the only one, I believe, to prefer the fatigue and less risk.

Henriot came to warn us to be ready.

We were. Some of the men readjusted their belts and straps.

A company on our right, the 23rd, was starting. Bouguet, who was watching it, exclaimed:

"Lawks. They're going down like ninepins!"

Guillaumin gave me a short lecture. All the theories they had taught us at the "Peloton" were out of date, all the supposed lessons of the Russo-Japanese war! The movements now must be carried out in established formations, sections for preference. The advantage of it was that the men felt they had support. Yes, but what a target they offered for the machine-guns in ambush.

Whom should I see appearing at my side but De Valpic, who crawled up.

"I wanted to come and wish you good luck," he said simply.

"Very nice of you!"

Lifting up my water-bottle, I said:

"Have a drink?"

"No thanks, Frémont gave me some water."

I was surprised. I had thought that that was the errand he had come on. But I was mistaken. He went away again. It was a purely friendly proceeding.

The order to start was delayed. Even I began to get impatient. Guillaumin, who had gone off, reappeared and confided in me that there had been great excitement.

The captain had just discovered Descroix tearing off his stripes.

"What an idea!"

"On the pretext that N.C.O.'s are marked particularly."

"Well?"

"It turned out badly. The captain called him ... a coward. He defended himself and contended that there was no need for him to get himself killed for nothing!"

"No one is ever killed for nothing!" the other answered. "And as to your stripes, if you daren't wear them, I'll relieve you of them!"

"The captain's a fool!" I said.

"Do you think so?"

"Certainly! It's probably true that the Bosches mark the N.C.O.'s."

Goodness knows I held no brief for Descroix, but Guillaumin disgusted me then with his little heroic sniffs.

I had decided to use my pack as a shield. I told him.

"Pooh! Do you think that's any good?"

I implored him to follow my example. It was sufficient protection against grape-shot. He ended by allowing himself to be convinced, and gave the same advice to the men who for the most part did not follow it.

Henriot, on his knees, was watching for the signal and giving us endless pieces of advice in an under-tone.

"You'll all start at once. Keep your eyes fixed on me, see? At the double. Is that clear? And as for firing, be careful about that. Be sure to wait for the order to fire!"

"Talk away," muttered Lamalou; "think we're going to wait for your bally permission when we get a sight of the Bosches?"

The whistle was blown.

"Advance!" shouted the subaltern.

CHAPTER XI

A MUCH STIFFER MATTER

We had hardly taken fifteen steps when the whistle began in our ears again! We threw ourselves down. But not quickly enough! Our left hesitated ... and got mixed.

"Scatter! Can't you? You ..." I shouted.

A man spun round and fell.

Henriot bellowed:

"Can't you lie down?"

But his voice hardly reached us.

"Why doesn't he lie down himself?" said Judsi. "Wot's the sense in it?"

He added:

"Pore Siméon. See wot a bloomin' pirouette 'e made. Didn't I say 'e was too tall!"

The firing slackened off, but we naturally saw nothing. A new rush—too long that one! Pffmm.... Crack! We were enveloped in a noise like the snapping of straps. A man fell not far from me, and the fellow next him looked as if he were going to stop.

"No, no! There isn't time," I shouted.

"Run! Run!" shouted Henriot.

It was easily said!

We had just gone into a ploughed field, and the earth stuck to our shoes.

"Will you run?" repeated the subaltern in a feverish tone.

I began to trot ponderously, steadying my water-bottle and my haversack. Two or three of the men did the same, but at the end of twenty yards we gave it up, out of breath....

I turned round and saw one of my chaps fall. I ran up.

"Well, Loriot, what's up now?"

"Oh, the blighters!" he groaned. "Oh, the bloody bastards!"

"What's the matter?"

His hands were glued to his front. He shrieked.

"Ow! my rupture!"

It was put on. I was not going to be caught!

"Get up!"

"Not much!"

I shook him.

"Up you get, Loriot!"

While he was going into contortions the others were gaining ground. Infuriated I yelled in his ear:

"You could be shot for this!"

But I suddenly felt doubtful. Was he really shamming? Tears were oozing out of his eyes.

"It's because I ran," he groaned.

The rest was lost.... He abruptly unbuckled his belt, and his braces. I bent down; there was a lump as big as my fist.... He hiccoughed, and vomited.

Stupefied and sickened, I stammered:

"Yes, yes.... Then.... St-tay where you are!"

All I had to do was to catch up with the rest. But now a new storm of bullets began to whizz by—thicker than ever—buzzing like a swarm of bees.... And, Pap! Pap! Parapap! Pap!... There surely must have been a mitrailleuse in action.

I was alone. I no longer had the support of friendly presences. I did not take more than thirty yards. Good God! I suddenly collapsed. I hurled myself on to the ground.

My temples were throbbing. I could not get my breath. What did my life hang on? A thread! Pfffff! Pffmm.... If one of these sinister flies touched me ... there would be nothing left. The horror of such near annihilation ... suffocated me. Nothing!... The black chasm.... I did not want to....

With my mouth open I convulsively breathed the air. I soaked myself in the supreme sweetness of things ... the dazzling sun, the transparent sky, the green fields spread in my sight, and the blue curtain of the woods, encircling the clear horizon...!

Pffmm! Less than two yards from my face a little dust arose, a clod had been hit by a bullet. I buried my head in the furrow. I dreamt of digging a hole, and burying myself in it, alive!

My section was almost disappearing yonder, nearly two hundred yards away.... I suddenly regained consciousness. What was I doing? I was a coward then?

A coward? The word hurt me! Stay here behind. Oh, if only I had a wound! How I longed for one, no matter how bad a one as long as it was not mortal!... Or a sprain. I twisted my ankle and—must I confess it—pressed on it with all my strength.

There was nothing to be done! The ligaments held. As a matter of fact I soon gave it up, realising that I must go on. It had got to be done!

I was just about to overtake my section when there was a new unexpected noise ... like a huge piece of calico being torn.... They were opening fire farther down the line. But upon what? Nobody knew, but it was the signal for everyone to let fly. Instantly there was a crackle from one end of our line to the other.

When I came up some of the men turned round to look at me.

"Here's the sergeant!"

"Didn't expect to see you again!"

"Why not?"

"Thought you must be dead!"

"Oh, rot!"

Did I redden. Bouguet whispered to me:

"You must keep your eyes open. Some of 'em try to do a bunk on the Q.T.!"

I did not feel quite sure that he was not pulling my leg. Henriot bellowed:

"Yes, yes. Keep it up. Fire away!"

No detail as to the sight, or target, or the length of range. A man was missing! Guillaumin who crawled past, exclaimed:

"You ought to have been there, you see!"

Henriot now corrected himself:

"Cease firing! Advance!"

He got up and repeated the order. Nobody stirred. He lay down again and looked at us as if asking for advice. I pretended not to notice it. The men feverishly continued to bring their rifles to the shoulder, fire them, and reload.

I dropped on Moulard who was lying just behind Trichet and barely escaped hitting him at every shot he fired. Trichet drew back looking dazed, without seeming to understand.

The worthy Gaudéreaux who was beside him was firing precipitously.

But at what? At what?

In his agitation he got his lock jammed. I took hold of his rifle which burnt my hand. It took me a long while to repair the damage and I repeated:

"Why, in thunder, are you so set on playing with your trigger?"

Our losses were still slight. Only one man hit, in Guillaumin's section. But on ahead I caught sight of a barbed-wire entanglement surrounding a field. An unpleasant obstacle! And it was in our sector all right!

There was probably a ditch too. Henriot shouted:

"Here goes for cover!"

He started off courageously, and this time the men followed him. We covered the intervening space in a single rush, a foolish mistake which cost us two men. Judsi delighted his lads by imitating a horse's gallop.

The bullets shrieked over our heads as we crouched in the ditch. We let off a few desultory shots on the chance of hitting something. A minute or two passed. The subaltern was worrying about how to cross this entanglement!...

"It's quite simple," said Guillaumin. "Who's got the wire-nippers?"

"I have," said Corporal Bouguet.

Henriot hesitated:

"They'd better...."

"What?"

"Be made use of...."

"Very good, sir."

Bouguet calmly got up, and climbed out of the ditch. He knelt up and set to work.

"Good for you, Corporal!" shouted Bouillon.

It was a thrilling moment. The bullets whizzed and whistled all round him. He was a hero. He took his time about it, and it was a miracle that he was not hit ten times over!

"Will that do?" he asked.

"Excellently!"

He passed through the gap he had made and went and lay down in the field.

How tempted I was to admire him, but I restrained the impulse. He simply had no nerves, that was all. As for me my temperament forbade such achievements....

"Our turn now," said the lieutenant. "Follow me."

He made a dash and slipped through. He was not touched either. A great piece of luck. But then suddenly he lost his head and began to run forward all alone through the hail of bullets, without looking round. He went on for about fifty yards, then stopped, and disappeared into the hole made by a shell, in all probability. Yes, he had to call to us from there. His arm waved. We realised that he would never dare to come back to fetch us!

"Well, now we're in command of the platoon!" Guillaumin said to me. "Let's each take charge of our men, what?"

He added:

"We must get on!"

"Who'll go first?" I asked.

"I will, if you like."

He raised his voice to give his orders:

"When you get through, advance in skirmishing order by the right."

He sent two men on ahead, and then joined them. The rest crowded through. There were no hitches until it got to the last men, two of whom fell, one killed outright, the other wounded.

"I say, get them to fire a round!" shouted Guillaumin.

I gave the order for a volley. It was distinctly thin, and besides that, his men, having cleared the obstacle, stupidly inclined to the left. We were firing straight into their backs. I had some difficulty in getting my men to cease firing.

Bouillon said to me:

"The lucky chaps!"

"Why?"

"To have gone through first!"

They had left two dead men behind them, whose bodies half filled up the gap.

Our turn now.

I felt strangely detached. I watched myself get up and heard myself telling off the three men nearest to me:

"Get on, you, and you, and you!"

They went, much against their will.

"Get a move on!"

The first man lost his balance just as he got to the entanglement, and fell back into the ditch. The others immediately flung themselves back again.

I turned to the next two:

"You show them the way, Trichet and Bouillon!"

Bouillon looked at me imploringly, and neither of them budged an inch.

Pffmm! Pffmm! went the bullets above us!

"Aren't you ever coming?" shouted Guillaumin.

"No. 2 section is just as good as No. 1 section, surely!" I exclaimed.

Somebody muttered:

"After you!"

I implored Bouillon to try and get one or two through.

He sighed, and called out:

"Villain ... and Judsi, old chap, aren't you going to show them how?"

"You don't mean it?" said Judsi.

He came rolling along. Villain stood up with difficulty.

"Aa-h!"

His head burst like a hand-grenade.

Judsi ducked, giving vent to Cambronne's historical exclamation. Shaking like an aspen I wiped my sleeve on the grass.

At that instant a shot rang out among our men. What clumsiness! Beside myself, I shouted:

"Donnadieu!"

The corporal answered from his half-section. Was he there? Yes, I caught sight of him and went up to him.

"Donnadieu," I said excitedly, "I'm going on with some of the men. You'll shove the others along, see?... Kick them if necessary."

He looked down, and muttered something. I caught the word "wounded."

"What wounded? You wounded?"

This expression of misery and terror on his face ... his rifle lying on the ground. With his right hand he took hold of the other fist, and raised it with difficulty to show me....

Blood was dripping from his hand. The middle finger was in a horrid mess and hung down limply, by a strand of skin; a fragment of bone was sticking out.

"Poor old chap ..." I began.

But I suddenly had an intuition. The man's eyes avoided me.

"It's a put-up job," I shouted down his ear; "you've done it yourself!"

I shook him roughly by the shoulder. The wretched creature tottered, and fell on his side, protecting his mutilated hand.

"You hound!"

I ground my teeth:

"A good job if it kills you!"

I believe that in my rage I went so far as to kick him.... One's own weak moments are so easily forgotten.... I was choking with anger and disgust, and the agony too of being unequal to my task.... I was responsible; and we were hanging back behind all the others, making a gap in the front of attack.

Our comrades who had gone on began to abuse us.

"A lot o' bloomin' funks!"

"Going to stay behind are you?"

I was forced to act. I felt my mind lashed by the burning blast of decision.

I began by rebuckling my pack behind my shoulders. Freedom for one's arms was an obvious necessity.

I stood up and said in a firm tone:

"We've not done yet; we've got to get through!"

My cheeks were scorching. Everyone was looking at me. I think I gave the impression of the most absolute coolness.

"Come along! Come along! Bouillon...!"

I reached the gap without hurrying myself. Pffmm! Pffmm! That terrible buzzing.... I got through and shouted imperiously:

"Hurry up! Hurry up there!"

I was standing up. I had set them in motion. Bouillon, Lamalou, and some others hurried along, bending down.... Someone shouted:

"Lie down, Sergeant, lie down!"

I lost all consciousness of what was passing. I was thinking of a thousand other things—of my brother.... I calmly wondered if he had been killed in this way. However, some instinct urged me to kneel down, and then the realisation of the danger we were in seized me.... If only I could have thrown myself down and lain still! But ten of my men were still on the other side. I felt bound to wait until the last one had come through. And they did not hurry themselves! How bitter I felt. All my senses were waking up again. I was annoyed with myself for exposing myself like this, but I could not prevent myself from doing so.

I had got them all over at last! Guillaumin got his poilus together for a new rush.

"Advance!"

Nobody dropped out; nobody, that is, except two poor lads who were killed on the spot.

"At the gallop!" cried Judsi, who was once more pretending to be a horse.

I signed to them to keep extended order. We ran along like that for about one hundred yards, almost without casualties, and then crowded all together behind a narrow tank.

There was heavy firing for a few minutes; a relaxation for the nerves! Two hundred and fifty yards! At the edge of the wood! Fire! I had given my orders quite at random.

Bouillon assured me emphatically that he could make out the peaked helmets. I, too, was firing madly, as an excuse for giving no more directions.

I suddenly saw Henriot beside me; he shouted:

"Cease firing!"

And leaning towards me, said:

"Steady on; you must husband your ammunition! And the show's over for to-day!"

Over? It was only then that I noticed that the sun had just disappeared, that the night was falling. The engrossing struggle had robbed us of all idea of time.

CHAPTER XII

WE COLLECT OURSELVES

"No! Call yourselves poilus!" Bouillon exclaimed.

We looked at each other, and at the strained faces smeared with sweat and powder, the torn greatcoats, the knees and hands covered with earth. But what a feeling of buoyancy! In me most of all! I dared not predict the issue of the battle. Victory or defeat, that seemed of very slight importance to me, I admit, compared with the fact that I was still alive.

The night was falling. Behind us was the river, indicated by the dark waving of the willow-trees and in the distance the slopes of the farther bank were all enveloped in a haze of wan violet tones.

The captain was on his rounds.

"Well, what did you think of it, Dreher?" he asked me.

"Most interesting, sir!"

He went away, after giving me a cordial glance from his piercing eyes.

I sounded Henriot. Was there any hope of a distribution of...?

"None at all! Ssh! Don't let's talk about that!"

Certain measures were taken in view of a possible attack, and some rough trenches made. I wondered that volunteers were found for sentry-duty, and others for a fatigue party, led by Guillaumin, in search of water.

The latter for that matter looked after everything. He had directed the trench-digging and had made out the casualty returns, and then, being quite indefatigable, he left us to go and get news of the other platoons.

Rolled up in my great-coat, I was wishing for nothing so much as a doze, when he reappeared.

"Well?"

"I say, I've just heard a heart-breaking bit of news!"

"What? Who?"

"Poor little Frémont!"

I raised myself on my elbow:

"Oh. Is he hit?"

"Badly hit, apparently!"

My heart contracted. What a nightmare! That child who had been with me on the highroad yesterday, whom I had led on...! I saw him growing pale at the sight of the stretchers ... was it a presentiment...? And I had a vision of him on the bench in the garden the other day, folding his darling in his arms.

Guillaumin's thoughts had kept pace with mine.

"His wife," he said. "How sad it is! And you know she was expecting ... that they ... had hopes...."

"Yes, I know."

We were silent for a moment. Dull misery was brewing in me. Then Guillaumin got up; he wanted to spend his night beside his men.

"And I," I said, in a strangled voice, "you have no suspicions?"

"You! What about it?"

"My brother...."

"Well?"

"Has been killed."

"You're mad! How in the world could you know?"

"I heard it this morning."

He stammered:

"You.... Your brother ... the subaltern?"

"Yes."

He seized my hand.

"Michel.... Why ... didn't you tell me about it?"

My Christian name! I had quite got out of the habit of hearing it. I was touched, and pressed his warm hands. Tears rose to my eyes. I experienced the sad and yet sweet consolation which the affection of living people brings in the presence of death. He was a true friend. I admired the delicacy which made him hold his peace; so many people would have thought of nothing at that moment except of lavishing a flow of unmeaning words on me. He silently shared in my mourning.

At last he said simply:

"I am thinking of my sister. If I were killed ... or if she were to die!..."

He lingered for a few minutes, sitting beside me in the grass. There was a hallowed silence.... Friendship, the purest of manly sentiments, revealed itself to me in force....

I was the one to suggest he should go; he needed his sleep.

We pressed hands again.

"Mind you sleep, Michel."

"Good-night, Claude...."

He went away. I leaned my forehead on my arm, and tried to get to sleep, but my face was burning. What strange tumultuous thoughts besieged me.

I caught myself repeating: "Victor, my poor Victor!" But this time something was rent asunder. A veil fell. The artificial atmosphere in which all my joys and sorrows had been deadened for so long was dissipated.

My man's heart began to bleed. I became conscious of my grief. Without diminishing it I could now compare it, without blasphemy, with that other, into which the death of my mother had formerly plunged me. A double regret, identical, I felt in its essential point, for these two beings were of my blood, my nearest relations, a little of myself. Part of my life and future were buried with them. I understood now what an irrecoverable part my brother had played in my life. I had loved him when a child, and my childhood would never be renewed. Our gaze and our minds had awakened to the same things. A thousand memories were ours, ours alone. O Victor, I remembered the grace of your eighth, your tenth year. Our wild games in the big house at Tours, and in the summer holidays in the big garden at Emberménil. I admired you and adored you, my strong elder brother, who never abused your strength, who used to consent to being the "horse," out of your turn very often, so that I might hold the reins. When you brought friends home you did not like me, the youngest of the band, to be "ticked," and when I was "it" too long, you let yourself be caught on purpose.

I could remember my brother leaving for La Flêche as clearly as if it had been yesterday. I was inconsolable. I was seven years old, and in my unhappiness I refused to eat any pudding for a whole week!

I was just beginning to write. With a great effort I managed to cover a page for him every week. When he came back at Christmas, looking very smart in his new uniform, how delighted, how overjoyed I had been.

And then, little by little, we had drifted apart.

My brother! I had not really known him! I never should know him. Oh, the anguish of that thought. The fault had been on my side, for he in his affection had made many advances. The hope of putting an end to the misunderstanding between us never left him. Even quite lately certain words of his showed his fondness for me. But I had always repulsed him—he was shy, in spite of his handsome energetic appearance—by my arrogance and coldness.

Why had I decreed, ever since I was sixteen, that it was absurd for men to kiss, and at our next meeting had put out my hand to stop his customary greeting?

How many times, it was more like a hundred than one, he must have been grieved by my harshness and indifference before having resigned himself to it. And had he ever resigned himself to it?

Was it necessary that he should fall, to bring me to repentance. Alas! If only he could have seen me now, me the egoist, pouring out bitter, precious tears for him, the first for ten years.

I seemed to have been born anew to the deeper human feelings. Access to a sublime region was given back to me. My heart, which had been shrivelled and hardened for so long, softened and expanded. In a transport of generosity I tried to think who there was still left for me to love on earth.

The thought of my sister-in-law occurred to me first. I knew that, in her great love for Victor, she would have welcomed me as a brother as eagerly as she had welcomed a father. It was I again who had discouraged her advances. I reproached myself for it. I foresaw the hope of atoning for it. This death would create certain duties for me. Madeleine had lost her parents, she had no relations except a married sister at Versailles. When once my father had gone, I should be the head of the family, the children's natural guardian.

I thought of the little things' future. I would look after Xavier's education, and guide him towards a fine career. And I saw the little girl grow up. We would let her marry where her heart led her.

I thought of my father with reverence too. Our sorrow drew us nearer to each other. I imagined him being abandoned by his strength, when he heard the news. My courage and my pity would support him without humiliating him. I even dreamt that his love, robbed of its object, would end by being concentrated entirely upon me. Was it only a fancy? I remembered his clasp, and his voice which changed when we bid each other farewell.

Thus my thoughts strayed to each of my dear ones. I paused at each vision to enjoy it. But it seemed to me that behind them all another was hiding, undecided whether to appear or not! Suddenly a light shone forth ... a silhouette rose up, of a child, slim and fair, with a grave sweet smile, and tender eyes. It was such a dazzling apparition that I thought of adorning it and setting it up as a secret goddess in the inmost depths of my being to preside over my regeneration.

I tried to sweep aside the idol, to dispel the nimbus of illusions.... What did an exchange of post-cards, as a continuation of our talks in the holidays, signify?

The phantom refused to fade away; it reigned, pure and enthralling, in my consciousness. It was becoming an obsession. I decided to get up and take a turn.

The silent night enveloped everything, things and people, our line and the enemy's. Most of the men were sleeping, tired out, but the sentries, standing a few yards ahead, peered into the mysterious darkness.

In No. 2 platoon some of the men were still talking below their breath. I recognised the voices of Judsi and Corporal Bouguet.

"There ain't nothing wrong with the lieutenant, but 'e loses 'is 'ead!"

"Tell you who's a bit of all right, and that's the sergeants!"

"As for Dreher, 'e knocked me silly, that 'e did. 'E's a cove wot won't stop at nothink, 'e is."

I did not listen any longer, but passed by, smiling. I was touched, and surprised at being so. And I thought, "Father, father, if only you could hear them!..."

BOOK VI

August 14th-25th

CHAPTER XIII

A VICTORIOUS DAWN

The cold woke me as usual. I was stiff with cramp from my left shoulder down to my hip.... It would be a miracle if we did not all get our deaths of rheumatism.

An oppressive silence reigned. I put my hand out to feel the grass damp with dew. I could make out the shadow of my comrades a few yards away.

I rubbed myself and stretched my muscles. I was really remarkably fit on the whole, and the excruciating contraction in my side soon disappeared. I looked out. The Huns yonder must be dreading our awakening. I tried to recall the magnanimous feelings with which I had lulled myself to sleep a few hours ago, but I was too drowsy. Only one vision consented to charm me, the face of a young girl.

"At the wheel already, Dreher?"

It was the subaltern. He told me he had not slept much.

"There might have been a counter-attack! I had to keep on at my rounds!"

When he was just on the point of going away, he said:

"I say, Dreher, I hear, that is, Guillaumin told me, your brother...!"

"Oh, so you know about it. It has been a great blow!"

"We'll revenge him all right," he assured me.

A lot of good that would do me, I thought.

There was nothing to show where the east was. An indefinite brightness however replaced the darkness by insensible degrees. The tops of the willow-trees at the bottom of the valley were emerging from a woolly haze.

All our lot were up and about, now. The cooks found a way, without consulting the lieutenant, of going to make the coffee a few hundred yards to the rear.

Judsi, who brought up the first bucketful, said to me:

"Give us your mug, Sergeant!"

"I go in with the '10th,'" I objected, but he assured me that it would give them so much pleasure, we'd got on so well yesterday.

I let him give me some, and tasted it.

"Clinking, your coffee."

"Here's to you!"

Big Henry soon came up on behalf of the other half-section; and I had to accept a second cupful, in order to prevent any jealousy. What enchanted me was that I had won the esteem of these fellows—at small cost, goodness knows!

A little firing had been heard for the last few minutes, but only in the distance, strange to say! Nothing serious so far!

The quartermaster-sergeant passed, inquiring what ammunition we had left! Nothing very great! We had played havoc with it.

"No more need of bullets!" Guillaumin interrupted joyously. "We're going to do some storming now!"

I had not seen him since last night. Unbrushed, unshaven, his dirty face shining. Was this, I thought, henceforward to be my friend, my best friend? I would not allow myself to be ill-natured.

He was wanted by Henriot, and crawled away. It was the only mode of progression permitted. I was not sorry he had gone. I should have found nothing to say to him. The prospect of a bayonet charge obviously inflamed and excited him, just like that savage Lamalou who was boasting that he would skewer, how many?—one, two, three—who would have a bet on it?

As for me, I admit that I dreaded those two hundred yards across that no-man's-land (the last rush for how many of us!), and what followed, still more the hand-to-hand fight with the bayonet, the horrible butchery, the atrocious phase of the fighting for which no one prepares, for no one would face it in cold blood.

We had to wait for orders, for a long time, crouching behind the earthworks with our rifles in our hands.

It had got quite light.

All at once, exclamations were heard.

We looked round.

A hussar was galloping across the fields behind us.

"'E's arskin' ter be napoo'd!" Judsi exclaimed.

What a target indeed! How could the enemy help having a shot!

The horseman raced along the line, and disappeared. Not a single shot had been fired by the Bosches. A few minutes of trying suspense passed. Then a rumour ran along the line. Some of the men showed signs of getting up.

"Lie down!" Henriot commanded.

But we saw Breton walking quickly towards us, without the customary precautions. His face was beaming!

When still thirty yards off, he shouted:

"Nobody ahead of us now!"

"What?"

"They sloped off in the night!"

The news flew from mouth to mouth. An ingenuous, delirious joy took hold of our companions. A broadside of jokes burst forth.

"The 'Allemans' funked us!"

Judsi chuckled.

"W'en the blighters saw the 1.3 being brought along ... they said to themselves: 'Nothing to be done but to 'ook it.'"

I breathed again. I marvelled at the fulfilment of my private wish. No more danger for the moment. I should not be killed this morning!

The hussar, who had brought the news, appeared again, and deliberately urged his horse towards the woods, the zone which yesterday had been inaccessible. There was a new outburst of delight, and the men began to rag the sentries who had been on duty during the night:

"Gaudéreaux, w'y couldn't 'ee tell us they'd done a bink. You was snoozin', you old blighter, I dew believe."

Half an hour later, when arms had been piled, and the men dismissed to rest, Guillaumin took me by the arm:

"Let's go and see what's become of the others!"

We met De Valpic on the way. He had not slept either, and was afraid he had caught a cold....

"You'll not be the only one, my dear chap!"

A few steps farther on there was a little group, the Humel-Playoust lot. We went up to them, delighted to find them safe and sound. I don't know what put the idea into my head of tapping Descroix on the shoulder and saying to him:

"Good biz. The N.C.O.'s haven't come off so badly, what?"

He turned round in a fury.

"What do you mean?"

I understood. He must have thought I was alluding to that stupid affair of the stripes, which had gone quite out of my head. So I turned to Humel:

"Was it you who saw Frémont fall?"

"Yes."

"Where was he hit?"

"Oh, look here! One has all one can do to look after oneself!"

The quartermaster-sergeant was making signs to us in the distance. We went towards him. Guillaumin enlightened me on the way.

"That Descroix business was a put-up job, you know. He doesn't like it talked about."

"All the worse if it was arranged beforehand!"

Breton, who had joined us, took us to a clump of trees. When we got there he said:

"Look here!"

A German officer was standing up leaning lightly against a shield. His field-glasses were up to his eyes, and he seemed to be gazing through the opening.

Was he alive or dead? We hesitated but soon found out when we got nearer.

"Rather neat, what?" said Breton.

While ferreting about near by, Guillaumin came across a shell-hole. He exclaimed:

"The work of the 75's. No wound, apparently. Simply the effect of the concussion."

Then with a knowing wink:

"Pretty hot stuff these Turpin machines, what?"

We looked for a few seconds at the big well-built man with regular features, in the tightly fitting uniform trimmed with frogs. Some of the men who had come up formed a circle round us. Lamalou, without any hesitation, put his hand on the shoulder of the dead body....

I shall never forget the horror of it! The legs remained firmly fixed, but the upper half of the body fell apart, as if it had been a mannequin made in two pieces.

We bolted, but the poilus called to each other cheerily to come and have a look.

The halt continued; we extended the range of our walk as far as the quarter occupied by the other battalion. We came across friends at every other step, and greetings and hand clasps were more cordial than usual:

"No bad news, of your lot?"

And the reply was awaited with the curious mixture of curiosity and apprehension with which the list of victims is perused the day following a catastrophe.

We produced a painful effect each time. At the name of Frémont a look of sincere commiseration appeared on all the faces. Everyone loved him for his charm, and his good nature, this boy with the look of a girl and the memory of his romance secretly touched all their hearts.

The losses did not appear to be very serious; on the whole, our company was among those to have suffered most.

Someone announced that Denais, the big fellow in the 19th, had been killed right at the beginning by a splinter of shrapnel.

"Denais!"

I was thunder-struck. We had been bed-neighbours for a week, once, in the infirmary. We had seen a lot of him at F—— even during the last few days. I could see his face contracting at the notes of the "Funeral March." I heard him cry: "Oh, shut up! It's idiotic!..." And now he had "gone west."

What struck me most was that his disappearance did not seem to affect any one. Not a single regret was expressed. At the "Peloton" he had always, like myself, been one of those who knew how to get out of things, difficult—again like me—to "catch out," like me polite and sarcastic. General opinion classed us together as thorough egoists.

"And how about your foot?" Guillaumin asked me. "How's it getting on?"

It had not entered my head again!

"All the better! Because now we shall have to fight chiefly on our legs!"

"Do you think so?"

"We shall have to follow them up!"

"Rot!"

He looked at me.

"By Jove, you don't look much as if you realised that we have just gained a victory."

I shrugged my shoulders, and he continued:

"It must be rather a knock for the Bosches! A repetition of Mulhouse...."

I poured cold water on his enthusiasm. The enemy had retired of themselves and had not been forced to by us; a manœuvre on their part, perhaps. And we saw only such a small part, a very small part.

Guillaumin grew heated and hurled himself into nebulous strategical problems. I enjoyed urging him on. At last he almost lost his temper.

"We'll go and ask the subaltern!"

Henriot was coming towards us just having left an officers' confabulation.

"Well?"

"Ah!" he exclaimed, raising his cap, "our success is even more complete than we had hoped!"

"Hm!"

Guillaumin smacked me on the back.

Descroix and Humel, and all that lot, joined us again.

"I've got some details," Henriot announced breathlessly. "Here...."

His recital only confirmed the version I had had from Dagomert. After a partial repulse, after allowing the Germans to cross the Othain, and the Loison, possibly for tactical reasons, we had suddenly taken the offensive. The enemy had retired in disorder. One regiment had been completely wiped out by fire.... Henriot quoted the regimental number:

"The 23rd Württembergers!"

We had taken some prisoners, and booty, and captured field-and machine-guns, according to the reports.

During the hullabaloo which followed, I asked:

"So things are going alright?"

Humel sneered.

"Oh, really, nothing pleases that chap!"

I continued:

"It's all very well, but who knows what's happening elsewhere?"

"And what's happening in Timbuctoo?"

"Round about Nancy? And in the North?"

Guillaumin laughed:

"Dreher will have it that we can't be equally lucky everywhere!"

Henriot roared with laughter!

"Oh rot, they're in the soup!"

The group dispersed. Guillaumin went on talking to the lieutenant. I stayed with them, without taking part in their conversation. I was depressed again. Why? Good God, what did I want? I envied the delirious delight betrayed by every look and word and deed in my companions. I should have liked to vibrate in communion with those tens of thousands of men, my brothers by race, who covered the surrounding country; and I caught a glimpse behind them of the enormous mass, my nation, in whom the news of our success would have let loose such a frenzy of joy.

What did I lack to raise me to the desired pitch of excitement? I appealed to other considerations of an equally exalting nature: the renewal of our greatness, the virtue of our proud blood. We were overthrowing the greatest enemy in the world, at the first encounter. Revenge was a fine thing after all...! The pride of fulfilling this hope of our fathers. It was thus that I succeeded in fanning myself into a semblance of enthusiasm.

My companions left me, eager to walk and talk, to enjoy to the full this triumph which each of them felt was his own particular property. Left alone I soon proved that the entirely artificial fervour to which I had raised myself was subsiding by degrees. The springs of my mind were stagnant.

We were certain to start again, and starting again would mean pushing forward, following them up—Guillaumin had been quite right—re-entering Lorraine, with flags flying to be saluted as her liberators. Heavens! Surely that was enough to make a soldier's heart beat high. What would have been my father's and my brother's exaltation! To think that I was not a whit moved by it. I stripped the exploits to come of their prestige. What awaited us was simply new fatigues and torturing privations.

And I was terrified above all else, far above all else, by the spectre of the future battles. Could one risk one's life twice with impunity! I had escaped the first time by a miracle. Let me profit by it! I had been wrested from repose and security. Had I not already drawn from this campaign more than the benefit anticipated! I had my share of memories which would last me all my life. I had ascertained that I, even I, was capable of a kind of heroism. What a gain! And a boon that was more precious still, I had regained consciousness of the ties which bound me to a small number of human beings. I longed to be with them again. I would bring them a man infinitely more worthy of them. I had two cards in my pocket. A third had gone to a girl.... Would that one ever reach its destination? Would it be answered ... soon?

Lulled by these dreams, I discovered in them an excuse for the drowsiness which enfolded me. What I experienced was only human. Why a Roman rigour? If I did not burn to risk everything blindly in an adventure of regeneration, if I let myself be touched by the idea of a calm life spent among companions of my choice, if, in order that such a desire might be fulfilled, I caught myself wishing for a cessation of hostilities, an armistice, or an "honourable" peace of some kind, good God, was it anything to be ashamed of? What right had all the great sentiments in the world to suppress my humble wish to be happy?

CHAPTER XIV

EN ROUTE AGAIN

Some time passed by. A distant fusillade crackled for a moment. The big guns boomed for an hour, and then were silent. It was becoming doubtful whether we should go on that day. Henriot got impatient. The men asked for nothing better than to start again. When once the rations had been issued and the cooks had dished up a hot meal, we could manage.

There was some question of a party of us being told off to bury the dead. I dreaded lest this fatigue should fall to us; I foresaw how horrible it would be. We luckily escaped it. An unexpected order came for the battalion to move on.

I noticed that we were going northwards, in the direction of the enemy. We were preceded by patrol parties, and reconnoitring cavalry covered us.

The march was not marked by any notable incident. I remembered that we passed through a big village which had been occupied up till the night before by the enemy. One would have liked to stop there, to question the inhabitants whom we were delivering from this nightmare, and make friends with them.... But where were they? There was nobody but old women to be seen, and on their waxen faces I thought I made out a strange resentful expression. Why resentful? Because their village had been abandoned, and left if only for a few hours to the mercy of the invaders, who had taken the healthy men with them when they left, and had said: "We shall come back, but next time we shall not leave one stone upon another."

We got hot, marching. I was possessed by the thought of poor De Valpic dying of thirst. I ended by going to find him, and offering to share what was left in my water-bottle with him. He refused to accept it, and I had to force it on him, but this scene which was repeated twice a day bored me.

Bouillon noticed my annoyance and realised the reason for it. He hailed the cyclist, a man named Ducostal, and gave him to understand that my water-bottle leaked.

"Try to get hold of one for the sergeant! Enough poor lads have been knocked out with them!"

"Righto!" said the other. "I'm just taking a stroll across to the field ambulance."

Just on the chance I begged him to ask for news of Sergeant Frémont of the 22nd, down there.

He went off. I felt certain that he would forget both commissions.

During the long halt in a field by the roadside, some troops came into sight. We went to have a look, because it was a regiment of regulars, which had been heavily engaged, we knew, during the last few days.

We were at once struck by the gait of these men. They were advancing very slowly and seemed to have to make an effort to raise their legs at each step they took. They halted. When arms had been piled many of them did not even take the time to undo their packs, but let themselves fall where they stood. Several of them went to sleep instantly.

They were worn out. Three days' fighting without a pause and three nights.... The terrible nervous armed multitude, not a gesture, not a cry of joy in honour of this victory which they had won. Not to speak of the uniforms stained with mud and dust, and some in rags. The terrible part was these dull, ravaged faces, with their scared and dazed expressions.

I went down their line in silence. What gaps there were in these ranks! In one platoon there were only fifteen men left. A fair-haired corporal on the ground was trying to get to sleep, but the flies persecuted him. I chased them away.

"Thanks," he said.

I knelt down and asked him:

"How have you got on?"

He turned a dull eye on me, and answered in a broken voice, interrupted by dismaying silences:

"We're done.... Ever since the other morning—what day is it?... we have done nothing but fire ... and be fired at. At night too.... They kept us on the hop ... with their whizz-bangs and bombs.... Without rot, there were times ... when we envied those who fell, because they could at least pause for a while.... Look here, yesterday evening when the rations arrived ... well ... no one had the strength ... to put the stuff into their mouths. They had to send some dragoons ... up ... from the rear ... to feed us ... we would rather have gone under."

I left him. I understood now why the conquerors do not usually take full advantage of their victory. And I thought that to-morrow it would perhaps be our turn to go through it all.

We had just started off again when Ducostal turned up. He handed me a new water-bottle:

"Here you are, Sergeant!"

"Thanks. You're a ripper!"

"Do you know, nobody knew your pal," he continued. "I was sent from pillar to post. Then at last I had the luck to come across the bloke who picked him up. He's not dead, but it'll be a near thing if he pulls through. Got a ball through the lungs."

"Oh, I hope to goodness he'll recover!" I said out loud.

I had fumbled with my purse in my pocket, and slipped a piece of silver into the man's hand. He looked at it, and then gave it back.

"No, Sergeant, we're not out to make at this game. You stick to it."

"And then," he added, "do you remember one morning when you were sergeant of the guard you didn't report me missing?"

The incident occurred to me. So he was the fellow who had turned up one morning, after a day's leave, and implored me to mark him down as having come back at midnight.

"Oh, so you haven't forgotten that?"

"Rather not. We don't forget the sahibs, any more than we forget the wasters."

I was decidedly in a fair way to becoming popular.

At the next halt, I went to find De Valpic:

"Look here, old chap, do you see what I've managed to get hold of for you?"

I held up the new water-bottle.

"And what about you?"

I tapped my own.

"I've got mine, but it worried me to see you without one...."

While I was helping him to adjust it, and to unbutton his shoulder-straps, he tried to say something to me:

"Dreher ..." he began twice.

I interrupted him. I was unusually good-humoured, and gaily told him of my experience with Judsi the day before. I added:

"You have to know how to tackle these chaps."

I asked him if he had seen that wretched regiment.

In this way I managed to fill up the two minutes' halt.

"Au revoir, old fellow!"

When I left him I whistled, and felt tremendously cheery. I believe I deluded myself into thinking that I had played the Good Samaritan.

The day's march was lengthening. Henriot was anxious about the direction we were taking.

"Where are they taking us to?"

We were bearing distinctly westwards. Guillaumin suddenly came up to me and pointed out that our company had been detached from the rest and was marching alone.

Were they going to make us take outpost duty? There was no further doubt about it when our platoon went on alone, leaving the rest of the 22nd as supports in a farm. The lieutenant had his instructions; he sent out scouts and made us advance trailing arms.

In about ten minutes when we had just entered the woods, he said:

"Here we are!"

An important crossroads. The site was well chosen.

CHAPTER XV

A NIGHT ON OUTPOST DUTY

I pass over the arrangements of our pickets. Each one of us knew his duties, and acquitted himself conscientiously in his part. Henriot made a thorough reconnaissance. When he came back he showed me a plan which he had picked up.

"By way of practice, do you see? Our maps only go as far as the Rhine!"

At dusk, a lukewarm meal was brought to us from the supports.

The gloom grew more intense. Our vigil was beginning.

We established ourselves in a clearing about twenty yards from the road. The stumps of some trees which had been cut down were utilised as seats, a lot of us sat cross-legged, either on the ground, or on little tufts of brushwood, which were a poor protection against the damp. No fire, of course. By the flickering light of two dim section-lanterns placed on the ground we could make out the carpet of trampled grasses, and a big black circle, the remains of a log fire.

What a night that was. During the first few hours Guillaumin and Henriot never ceased chattering below their breath. I wondered that their fatigue had not more hold over them. I only half listened to their conversation which still concerned our victorious march, and the demoralised enemy flying before the sword. Speed, they declared, speed must come before everything else. We must fall upon the Bosches in the rear before they had time to recover themselves.

The first excitement occurred towards ten o'clock, a shot in the distance, on our left. Everyone leapt to his feet. Another, and still another.... There was no doubt about it; the sentries' orders had been so explicit; there was to be no firing except in case of danger or surprise. No. 3 picket, next to us, had surely been attacked. Henriot, much agitated, repeated the instructions: at a given signal, we were to extend and fall back on the support....

"It was not our business to put up a fight...."

The surprising thing was that the firing was dying down. We remained on the alert, and it was not ten minutes before new shots rang out, on our right this time, at No. 1 picket.

"They're crazy!"

Henriot fumed.

"The lunatics! Now our whole line of outposts will be marked!"

He was proud that our lot had kept their heads. But it was somewhat previous. A shot burst out in the wood, a hundred yards away, then a second: three, four, six. We saw a man rush up stammering distractedly: "Someone had come up, he had challenged them, they had not stopped, his comrades had been carried off...."

Not very encouraging! However, eight or ten volunteers offered to go and see what the matter was. On the way whom should we meet but the comrade in question, who was on the lookout and slightly uneasy, but made great fun of his companion, who had apparently fired at some shadows. Henriot was annoyed and inclined to be hard on him. Lamalou went to him.

"Blackguard 'im if yer like, sir, but don't 'ave 'im punished. It's always the same story o' nights just at fust, you sees and 'ears things!"

He spoke from his experience in the African bush. Henriot calmed down, and agreed that the sentinels were too far from the reserve picket; the arrangement of them was altered.

This continued all night ... shots, quite near at hand or some far away, marking out the zone which was being patrolled. We soon got accustomed to it. At the end of two hours no one worried about it any longer, indeed not enough.

An overpowering desire to sleep began to take possession of us. Over and over again I almost gave way. My head nodded, my eyelids closed. Then Guillaumin gave me a shake.

"Halloa, there, don't leave us in the lurch!"

Henriot rubbed it in!

"Remember we are responsible for the security of the whole army."

There was no gainsaying the fact that he behaved in the most praiseworthy fashion, sparing himself no pains. He was always to be seen on his feet, going to shake up the men who were reeling with weariness. Towards midnight, the critical time, he suddenly proposed that we should play games. I thought at first that he was joking. But no, he had undertaken to keep us awake at all costs. He must treat the children in his school in the same way. Childish occupation kept us amused for a long while. The greatest success was the game of Old Mother Perlimpin Pin which soon had to be stopped as the laughter was becoming so uproarious.

Towards two o'clock in the morning a thunder shower came on. We were soon soaked to the skin.

"In ordinary life," joked Guillaumin, "we should have kicked the bucket after a night like this."

I offered to go the rounds with the object of keeping myself awake.

The first sentry challenged me at a good distance. It was Judsi. He was calmly smoking a cigarette.

"Smoking's not allowed, Judsi."

"Pooh. It's a bit o' coompany. That won't stop a chap keepin' 'is eyes skinned."

But directly I had pointed out that the point of light might betray his presence at a distance, he gave way:

"That's true enough, that is."

He instantly threw his cigarette away in the damp grass.

I wanted to try an experiment on the next sentry-group and continued to advance after the order to "Halt!" Very well! I saw my two fine fellows both order arms again.

"Well, what are you up to? This is a nice state of affairs." I reproached them.

"We recognised you, Sergeant!"

"That doesn't matter, you ought to have made me halt."

"But as we recognised you!"

It was impossible to get them to alter their opinion. As for the last two sentries, they simply "about-turned" on the spot; that is to say, that at the first suspicious sound they fired on the picket.

I saw how unhinged and overwrought they were, and had pity on them. I ended by promising to say nothing about it to the subaltern.

I found the latter on his knees. He had spread out his map, which was beginning to get torn, and was saying to Guillaumin that we should do no more than screen Metz; the chief thing was to push straight on to Mayence, the key to the whole of the Rhine district.

The rain stopped, and some time passed. Towards four o'clock Henriot shyly suggested:

"Would it bore you frightfully to go out with a patrol party?"

"On the contrary!"

The idea appealed to me. By gad, I was not sorry to be able to stretch my legs. I chose four men. Bouillon who had just been on outpost duty absolutely insisted on being one of them. He was not going to let me go alone. He was certainly a good chap!

We plunged into the darkness. Hardly had we gone a hundred yards before it seemed as if we were a hundred miles away from the picket and its protection. We were in the middle of the forest, the gloom was intense. Silent raindrops dripped on to our shoulders and caps from the foliage above our heads. My companions followed in my footsteps. I was not only ahead of this patrol, but ahead of the whole army, a daring explorer sent out towards the enemy, who was perhaps lying in ambush. I often stood still and silently gazed into the darkness. I had told my men to regulate their movements by mine, but we were almost invisible to each other. Sometimes I distinguished ... that noise of muffled marching ... didn't it come from in front? Or again when I heard some branch crack in the under-wood, my heart thumped unevenly; I caught my breath; I thought I made out forms, phantoms crouching, yonder ... ready to hurl themselves.... How agonising it was!

How much more courage I had need of than when under fire. I regretted yesterday's danger in comparison. I opened my mouth to shout, "Everyone for himself!" My trembling knees wanted to fly. But here, as on the day before, what urged me on against my will was the presence of the men who saw in me their leader. The consciousness of my rôle, of my authority which must be kept up, seized me by the collar. I had to go on, and I went on. I got safely past the place where I had feared the ambush. For a moment I was delighted to have surmounted this terror, delighted even to have experienced it. What a chapter it added to my campaign impressions! What a joy it would be one day to recall these deadly terrors, if only I escaped them.

It was an interminable journey. The subaltern had told me to follow the road up to the edge of the wood. Having arrived there I was to take a certain road whence I should get excellent views over a large stretch of country.

We continued to advance. Our shoes squelched in the soft loam, and got covered with lumps of mud. We were splashed at each puddle. Our feet were soaked, our hands, pinched with cold, clutched convulsively at our rifles.

It was nearly forty minutes since we had left the clearing. From time to time a shot on our left reassured us; a sentry group was on the lookout there. I was still watching for the road which ought to turn off on our right. The forest just lately had given place to a bushy thicket. The sky was already paling, and in the clear transparency I saw the beginning of a bridle-path. What a relief! All we had to do now was to skirt the hostile zone, instead of continuing to penetrate into it, more terrified at each step.

The path climbed the side of the hill. We occasionally caught a glimpse of a misty expanse. Farther on, the view opened out, and we lay down flat on our faces, our elbows resting on the dewy grass of a hillock.

The sky tone was neutral. The chief features in the landscape were lent precision by the coming dawn. At our feet pearl-grey meadows sloped gently down to a highway bordered with trees, which might be followed northwards for miles, running in a straight line between two rounded hills. On the left there was a bizarre eminence, abrupt and bald; on the right two steeples, one of which rose at a short distance away behind a stretch of colourless heath. A mist hung about, dimming the surfaces and blurring the outlines. Another gloomy day in the making.

"See anything, Bouillon?"

"Never a Bosche!" he declared.

Our glance probed each particle of ground. There was nothing suspicious, in the plain, or on the roads, which looked like huge ribbons. The enemy appeared to have melted away. Our field of view increased, the shadows were dispersing, and the horizon seemed to recoil. Still nothing to be seen.

"They must 'ave 'ad a scare."

Our mission was apparently at an end. It was up to the aeroplanes to take observations of the enemy's new positions. One of the war-birds happened to be flying over yonder at that moment, but we were undeceived when it approached, and we recognised a Taube.

"Let's be getting back!"

"Say, Sergeant, the country's not so dusty!"

Touched and curious, did we foresee the miracle with which daybreak was to endow us?

Here was the luminous veil of the aërial vault above us being rent and scattered. Shreds of the more transparent vapours still floated in the air, but the depths had ceased to look so uniformly dust-coloured. It was not long before cracks and then fissures and then chasms were hollowed in the clouds, and the liquid blue shone out between them bathed in a diaphanous radiance. The true sky smiled at last. The fleecy clouds dispersed and vanished, a few of them lingered in the form of scarfs, so attenuated that they looked like modest nebulas. The scintillation of the stars pierced through them. They would only shine for a moment and then pale in the growing daylight, but it was enough that they had reminded the mortals, saddened by the opaque and misty night, of their existence.

The whole of spring glowed resplendent in this summer dawn. Newly awakened chaffinches chirruped and chased each other at the edge of the wood. The luscious green countryside, a sight to gladden the eyes, exhaled the fragrance of recent harvest mingled with the resinous perfume of the firs and larches sown among the beeches round about us. Now the entire firmament was clear and serene, suggested in fluctuating colouring which changed by harmonious gradations from a mauve verging on violet, in which the western sky was bathed, to the pale phosphorescence, which, on the opposite horizon heralded the approach of Apollo. On that side the mists accumulated in the recesses of the valleys, evaporated more quickly, and rose up impalpable, the incense of the earth. Unsuspected ridges appeared. Through an opening between the two crests my wandering gaze could glide towards a blue distance, infinite as the ocean.

A plain, a different region, seemed to open out down there. It occurred to me that the Woevre might lie in that direction. Yes, we must have reached the confines of the valley of the Meuse. Yonder my brother had fallen. I made a vague attempt to recall my sorrow and rancour, to connect my present mission with that of the army and my nation. My consciousness repelled these fierce imaginings. Taking a deep breath I inhaled the woodland scents. I chewed a stalk of grass, and dangled a corn-flower picked on the other side of the slope. I naïvely congratulated myself on being present, in the womb of nature, at the birth of each dawn, with which I, as a civilised being, had rejoiced my eyes too seldom.

The sun rose. A ray of gold touched us, appearing from the bottom of the disk. The outline of the orb was barely discernible, hidden by the triangular shadow of some peak or other, reared at an immense distance, which stood out in relief against the luminous segment. The planet as it rose hesitated for some time before adopting a shape. It stretched itself out, and capriciously widened then lengthened itself, a dark red mass upon which it was still possible for the naked eye to gaze.

I wondered vaguely where I had lately delighted in a similar vision?

The ball grew more condensed and, ceasing its frolics on the orange line of the horizon, rose rapidly, armed with a blinding brilliance. Then—sparkling reminder—a sickle-shaped streak began to glitter on the ground below: some pond.... A flight of memories was instantly loosed, and soared in me, and then subsided, eddying. My heart leapt at the vivid recollection. It was the Suchet morning; we had seen the sun rise from the snowy Alps, equally distended and tortuous, until the instant, when full blown, it had reflected its disk in the waters of Neufchâtel....

Good God! How short a time ago it was. It was only three weeks since we had dallied happy in our youth. My memory caressed each detail of that excursion, the first glimpse we had had of the abyss in whose depths there had shone, like ships' lights, the lights of the Canton-de-Vaud—and our wait for the miracle's accomplishment in the icy atmosphere of the mountain top. In order to warm ourselves we had laughingly thrown pebbles down the slope in an endless avalanche....

As I lingered dreamily over this resurrection the pictures faded away of themselves. One alone persisted, infinitely sweet. I mentally breathed the name. Seated on a rock which jutted out on a level with the ground, breathing in deep breaths of the scented air of the hilltops, turned towards the rising sun, it was yours, Jeannine, my friend....

CHAPTER XVI

GOOD COMRADES

We expected to be picked up by the battalion that same morning, to continue the march. Nothing came of it. We were simply relieved about two o'clock by the 2nd platoon.

Annoyance on the part of Henriot. He questioned Lieutenant Delafosse who succeeded him. The latter knew nothing about it, nothing at all! He was yawning. He noted the sentry's orders with a bored expression.

We rejoined the rest of the company at the farm where they remained in support of the outposts. For the first time in four days I was able to indulge in a wash and a change of linen. The joy of it. Bouillon rolled my things up into a parcel and carried them off. He was left busy all the afternoon washing, cleaning, and brushing them, while I slept on the straw.

When I woke Guillaumin announced:

"I say, we're going a bust this evening!"

He and Breton had been to "get round" the farmer's wife, who for a comparatively moderate sum had consented to hand over a couple of fine rabbits.

"How many of us will there be for them?"

"Eight.... No; nine, with the sergeant-major."

Oh "that lot" was going to join us? Yes, Guillaumin, who bore no grudge, had invited them. He explained that we would go shares; it would come cheaper like that!

"Haven't I done right?"

I gave my approval. I liked to think it might be the beginning of a renewal of cordiality.

Guillaumin had introduced Gaufrèteaux to the farmeress, who having quickly known him for what he was, a real virtuoso of the frying-pan and casserole, had given him a free hand. She had no reason to repent it, as she was invited to join us and share the feast. Rabbit à la Bordelaise, a croûte aux champignons, and ham à la Provençale reminded her of the cheer at her sister's wedding.

Playoust had persuaded her to bring out some wine. It was pronounced excellent. Much flattered, she announced her intention of giving it to us free of charge. We cheered her. We touched glasses again and again, and drank to the health of her boy, who had left on the third day of mobilisation to join her father, one of the heroes of the year '70, in the Zouaves. I am not sure that we did not drink to the health of her deceased husband.

The wag of the evening was Playoust. There was no denying that the fellow was really funny when he liked. He hummed and sang and imitated the calls of animals. And between times he got Hourcade to take some powdered chalk thinking it was castor sugar, and an egg, taken from a setting hen, in an egg cup (the chicken was in it!).

I forget how it was that he came to jeer, in pretty strong terms too, at Henriot. Humel immediately backed him up; the battalion sergeant-major, who had drunk rather more than was wise, let him have his say, and winked, and even went as far as to put in a word himself. The poor lieutenant was laughed at for his strategical pretensions, in a really unkind manner. I was surprised. I should have thought that he would have found grace at the hands of these fellows for whom he was always doing good turns. Oh, ah! Grace! Playoust went off on a new tack, and talked of his behaviour under fire. It was grotesque. Beat everything! He had let his platoon go hang, had chucked himself into a hole, and left the others to get along as best they could.

He raised howls of laughter, and by Jove, I joined in. There was some truth in what he said after all. Guillaumin alone protested vigorously and courageously but unfortunately he embarked upon a verbose vindication which tended to prove that true courage consists precisely in being afraid....

"Listen to the staff-officer!"

He was hooted and pelted with bread pellets, and finally reduced to silence. Dessert time. The bottles went on circulating. The wine had gone to my head. I hazarded a few facile pleasantries, which were greeted with roars of laughter, which spurred my malice on to further efforts. I set myself to rival Playoust's buffoonery. He gained a momentary advantage by imitating the various phases of a pig fight. We had to go to the help of the farmeress who was choking with laughter. Then I played the ventriloquist, one of my parlour tricks. I gave a three-part scene. Our hostess again grew hysterical, and a dish was broken.

I felt occasional twinges of remorse in the midst of all this folly. All this gaiety the day after a cruel loss!... But what did it matter? Had I not mourned my brother as he would have liked to be mourned? This death already seemed such an old story.... And lastly I privately thought that I had acquired a sort of right to give proof of a versatile disposition ... violent and fleeting feelings, tears yesterday, and joy to-day. Was it not the prerogative of soldiers and children?

We spent several days at this farm. Every evening when we went to sleep, we expected to have to turn out and start off in the middle of the night. Henriot was eaten up with impatience, and repeated:

"It's madness not to profit by our advantage! We ought to be near Trèves by now!"

He calmed down at last. The captain had laughed at him, and reminded him of endless circumstances in military history, where prudence had dictated an identical line of conduct, which was to recover oneself before entering upon a new enterprise.

Besides that there was a complete lack of any news: not a word of the development of the action in Alsace-Lorraine. We only had the impression of a general movement of our armies towards the Belgian frontier. A big blow would be struck in the North! From time to time I amused myself by goading Guillaumin. How were we getting on over there, I wondered.

He no longer took me seriously, or else retorted:

"My dear chap, we only have to hold out for three weeks. The Russians will be coming along now!"

Again one might have thought we were at manœuvres. The spirit of the men was extraordinary. The fight the other day, the wounded and dead—all that was forgotten, or rather it was taken as a basis for fearing nothing from the future. They took a delight in repeating that the worst was over. Artillery, machine-guns, and rifles had all talked at the same time. The Bosches could not invent anything worse.

I have said that I was on good terms now with the poilus in my section, but I was not intimate with them yet. I made a few tentative advances. I asked one or two of them about their family, or their home life. They answered me politely, but did not expand. I had the feeling that I embarrassed, almost disquieted, them; so I soon stopped. There was no need to bother myself.

The most complete idleness reigned. The battalion sergeant-major no longer multiplied parades. He, Ravelli, had changed in the most extraordinary way since he had been under fire. He took no interest in anything and left his men to themselves. He may have heard—it was Breton who insinuated it—French bullets whistling past his ears!

The Lamalou-Judsi lot organised fishing parties at a pond close to the farm. No notice was taken for the first two days; on the third day they brought back a cartload of fish, having been inspired with the brilliant idea of stretching a net from one side to the other. They had cleared everything. The farmeress protested that the pond belonged to her. The captain lost his temper and threatened the beggars with Court Martial. They did not haul down their colours. Things were getting serious. Lamalou clenched his fist.

"I've been through the Court Martial once before now, I 'ave. I'll tell 'em it's a bit rough on a chap wot's going to get knocked on the 'ead."

I privately agreed with him. Playoust secretly encouraged him, just to see what would happen. As for Guillaumin, he took the defaulters apart, and reasoned with them. I don't know what he preached or promised, but the fact was that he appeased them. He went off to see the captain and disarmed him too. The matter went no further.

But that evening at mess he gave Playoust a bit of his mind. The latter, surrounded by his faithful satellites, answered back and had the last word.

I had kept out of it. It was my turn next morning. I found the whole lot collected round the well, disputing violently.

"What's up?" I asked.

Descroix shouted:

"Did you ever hear such a thing! This'll be the third day that the company has taken outpost duty."

No. 1 platoon had just been told that it was their turn to supply No. 2 picket. They had been congratulating themselves upon getting out of it. Hence their rage!

"Always the same lot to fork out."

Playoust headed them:

"It's disgustin' that's wot it is. There's the bally 21st there doin' nothing. Wy can't they send them?"

I ventured to remark:

"You've not been overdone so far."

I laughed.

"Outpost duty has its interesting moments."

They fell upon me, and in such a tone!

"Oh, Dreher ... on other people's worries...!"

I retorted. There was a sudden torrent of bitter words, of almost injurious reproaches. Yes, yes, they had seen me at it! Then they brought up their eternal grievances at F——. Descroix accused me of toadying to the lieutenant.

Oh! I turned on my heel. I was stupefied, sickened at this persistent animosity after our brotherly agape, the other day. What paltry minds they had!

CHAPTER XVII

DE VALPIC

I had not seen much of De Valpic during the last few days. Our platoons had relieved each other, and his presence always weighed on me a little like a vague remorse.

That afternoon I found him lying, with closed eyes, in the shed I had gone into, meaning to take a nap. He raised his eyelids:

"Halloa!"

I had to go up to him, and asked him:

"Not so bad the other night, was it?"

"For me it was."

I joked.

"For you particularly?"