ly death from a bullet before their wounds fester and
poison the blood in their veins.

Whereon--the Saviour--of mankind--was--born.

The measured cadence fell on my ear as I left the ward and passed beyond
the annexe. The sergeant had now got his section well in hand. I turned
up the long winding road towards my quarters. It was a cold moonlight
night, and every twig of broom and beech was sharply defined as in a
black-and-white drawing. Overhead each star was hard and bright, as
though a lapidary had been at work in the heavens, and never had the
Great Bear seemed so brilliant. But none so bright and legible--or so it
seemed to me--as Mars in all that starry heraldry.

"Bon soir, monsieur!" It was the voice of the sentry, and came from
behind a barricade of hurdles, thatched with straw, on the crest of the
road over the downs. His bayonet gleamed like a silver needle in the
moonlight, and he was alone in his vigil. No shepherds watched their
flocks by night, neither did angels sing peace on earth and goodwill
towards men. Only the cold austerity of the stars kept him company.
Perhaps the first Christmas Eve was just such a starry night as this;
the same stars may have looked down upon a manger in Bethlehem. But on
the brow of the hill was one of those wayside shrines which symbolise
the anguish of the Cross, and these very stars may have looked down upon
the hill of Calvary.

IV

THE FRONT AGAIN

XXIII

THE COMING OF THE HUN

The _maire_ sat in his parlour at the Hotel de Ville dictating to his
secretary. He was a stout little man with a firm mouth, an indomitable
chin, and quizzical eyes. His face would at any time have been
remarkable; for a French provincial it was notable in being
clean-shaven. Most Frenchmen of the middle class wear beards of an
Assyrian luxuriance, which to a casual glance suggest stage properties
rather than the work of Nature. The _maire_ was leaning back in his
chair, his elbows resting upon its arms and his hands extended in front
of him, the thumb and finger-tips of one hand poised to meet those of
the other as though he were contemplating the fifth proposition in
Euclid. It was a characteristic attitude; an observer would have said it
indicated a temperament at once patient and precise. He was dictating a
note to the _commissaire de police_, warning the inhabitants to conduct
themselves "paisiblement" in the event of a German occupation, an event
which was