d
kept the _estaminet_ for twenty years, how all the leading men of the
village came of an evening and talked over the things that were
happening in Paris.

He started shouting, as men will--

"What does it matter what I sell, what I receive? What does
it matter, for have I not to leave all this?"

Then his wife came up and put her hand on his arm--

"Now, now; give the gentlemen their beer."

I bought some cherry brandy and came away.

I was sent on a couple of messages that afternoon: one to trace a
telephone wire to a deserted station with nothing in it but a sack of
excellent potatoes, another to an officer whom I could not find. I
waited under a tree eating somebody else's pears until I was told he had
gone mad, and was wandering aimlessly about.

It was a famous night for me. I was sent off to Dammartin, and knew
something would go wrong. It did. A sentry all but shot me. I nearly
rode into an unguarded trench across the road, and when I started back
with my receipt my bicycle would not fire. I found that the mechanic at
Dammartin had filled my tank with water. It took me two hours, two lurid
hours, to take that water out. It was three in the morning when I got
going. I was badly frightened the Division had gone on, because I hadn't
the remotest conception where it was going to. When I got back H.Q. were
still at Vinantes. I retired thankfully to my bed under the stars,
listening dreamily to Grimers, who related how a sentry had fired at
him, and how one bullet had singed the back of his neck.

We left Vinantes not too early after breakfast,--a comfort, as we had
all of us been up pretty well the whole night. Grimers was still upset
at having been shot at by sentries. I had been going hard, and had had
only a couple of hours' sleep. We rode on in advance of the company. It
was very hot and dusty, and when we arrived at Crecy with several hours
to spare, we first had a most excellent omelette and then a shave, a
hair-cut, and a wash. Crecy was populous and excited. It made us joyous
to think we had reached a part of the country where the shops were open,
people pursuing their own business, where there was no dumbly
reproaching glance for us in our retreat.

We had been told that our H.Q. that night were going to be at the
chateau of a little village called La Haute Maison. Three of us arrived
there and found the caretaker just leaving. We obtained the key, and
when he had gone did a little