convent. On the upper floor of the eastern side a large room,
absolutely riddled with shot and shell, was formerly occupied as a
dormitory by the children of the convent school. It was now put to a
novel use as a temporary barracks, a watch being always on duty there,
and a telescope installed at the window. Since the nuns left to take up
their abode in a bomb-proof shelter, a Maxim had been placed at one of
the windows, which commanded all the surrounding country; but it was
discreetly covered over, and the window-blind kept closely drawn to
avert suspicion, as it was only to be used in case of real emergency. To
reach our cubicles there was but a single staircase, which led past this
room allotted to the soldiers--a fact which left an unsatisfactory
impression on my mind, for it was apparent that, were the convent aimed
at, to reach terra-firma we should have to go straight in the direction
of shells or bullets. However, the authorities opined it was all right;
so, feeling very ill, I was only too glad to crawl to bed. Just as the
sun was setting, the soldiers on watch came tearing down the wooden
passage, making an awful clatter, and calling out: "The gun is pointed
on the convent!" As they spoke, the shell went off, clean over our
heads, burying itself in a cloud of dust close to a herd of cattle half
a mile distant. This did not reassure me, but we hoped it was a chance
shot, which might not occur again, and that it had been provoked by the
cattle grazing so temptingly within range. I must say there was
something very weird and eerie in those long nights spent at the
convent. At first my throat was too painful to enable me to sleep, and
endless did those dreary hours seem. We had supper usually before seven,
in order to take advantage of the fading daylight, for lights were on no
account to be shown at any of the windows, being almost certain to
attract rifle-fire. By eight we were in total darkness, except for the
dim little paraffin hand-lamp the Sisters kindly lent me, which, for
precaution's sake, had to be placed on the floor. Extraordinary noises
emanated from those long uncarpeted passages, echoing backwards and
forwards, in the ceiling, till they seemed to pertain to the world of
spirits. The snoring of the men on the relief guard was like the groans
of a dying man, the tread of those on duty like the march of a mighty
army. Then would come intense stillness, suddenly broken by a volley
from the enemy soundin