erdant valley of the Aisne, the smiling meadows
dotted with clumps of trees, among which the little stream wound lazily.
Before him and closing the valley in that direction lay Vouziers, an
amphitheater of roofs rising one above another and overtopped by the
church with its slender spire and dome-crowned tower. Below him, near
the bridge, smoke was curling upward from the tall chimneys of the
tanneries, while farther away a great mill displayed its flour-whitened
buildings among the fresh verdure of the growths that lined the
waterside. The little town that lay there, bounding his horizon, hidden
among the stately trees, appeared to him to possess a gentle charm; it
brought him memories of boyhood, of the journeys that he had made to
Vouziers in other days, when he had lived at Chene, the village where he
was born. For an hour he was oblivious of the outer world.

The soup had long since been made and eaten and everyone was waiting
to see what would happen next, when, about half-past two o'clock, the
smoldering excitement began to gain strength, and soon pervaded the
entire camp. Hurried orders came to abandon the meadows, and the troops
ascended a line of hills between two villages, Chestres and Falaise,
some two or three miles apart, and took position there. Already the
engineers were at work digging rifle-pits and throwing up epaulments;
while over to the left the artillery had occupied the summit of a
rounded eminence. The rumor spread that General Bordas had sent in
a courier to announce that he had encountered the enemy in force at
Grand-Pre and had been compelled to fall back on Buzancy, which gave
cause to apprehend that he might soon be cut off from retreat on
Vouziers. For these reasons, the commander of the 7th corps, believing
an attack to be imminent, had placed his men in position to sustain the
first onset until the remainder of the army should have time to come
to his assistance, and had started off one of his aides-de-camp with a
letter to the marshal, apprising him of the danger, and asking him for
re-enforcements. Fearing for the safety of the subsistence train, which
had come up with the corps during the night and was again dragging its
interminable length in the rear, he summarily sent it to the right
about and directed it to make the best of its way to Chagny. Things were
beginning to look like fight.

"So, it looks like business this time--eh, Lieutenant?" Maurice ventured
to ask Rochas.

"Yes,