ed retainer, the sole
inhabitant, explains that M. le Comte is at Paris; M. Armand at Arras;
and M. Guy in Alsace,--all doing their bit. M. Victor is in hospital,
with Madame and Mademoiselle in constant attendance.

So we settle down in the chateaux, and unroll our sleeping-bags upon
its dusty parquet. Occasionally we find a bed available. Then two
officers take the mattress, upon the floor, and two more take what is
left of the bed. French chateaux do not appear to differ much as a
class. They are distinguished by great elegance of design, infinite
variety in furniture, and entire absence of drains. The same rule
applies to convents, except that there is no furniture.

Given fine weather, by far the most luxurious form of lodging is in
the open air. Here one may slumber at ease, fanned by the wings
of cockchafers and soothed by an unseen choir of frogs. There are
drawbacks, of course. Mr. Waddell one evening spread his ground-sheet
and bedding in the grassy meadow, beside a murmuring stream. It was
an idyllic resting-place for a person of romantic or contemplative
disposition. Unfortunately it is almost impossible nowadays to keep
one's favourite haunts select. This was evidently the opinion of the
large water-rat which Waddell found sitting upon his air-pillow when
he returned from supper. Although French, the animal exhibited no
disposition to fraternise, but withdrew in the most pointed fashion,
taking an Abernethy biscuit with him.

Accommodation in farms is best described by the word "promiscuous."
There are twelve officers and two hundred men billeted here. The farm
is exactly the same as any other French farm. It consists of a
hollow square of buildings--dwelling-house, barns, pigstyes, and
stables--with a commodious manure-heap, occupying the whole yard
except a narrow strip round the edge, in the middle, the happy
hunting-ground of innumerable cocks and hens and an occasional
pig. The men sleep in the barns. The senior officers sleep in a
stone-floored boudoir of their own. The juniors sleep where they can,
and experience little difficulty in accomplishing the feat. A hard
day's marching and a truss of straw--these two combined form an
irresistible inducement to slumber.

Only a few miles away big guns thunder until the building shakes.
To-morrow a select party of officers is to pay a visit to the
trenches. Thereafter our whole flock is to go, in its official
capacity. The War is with us at last. Early t