ing drunkards.

At last the convoy passed and the dust settled again on the rutted road.

"Oh, the poor children!" said the old woman. "They know they are going
to death."

They tried to hide their agitation. The schoolmaster poured out more
wine.

"Yes," said Martin, "there are fine orchards on the hills round here."

"You should be here when the plums are ripe," said the schoolmaster.

A tall bearded man, covered with dust to the eyelashes, in the uniform
of a commandant, stepped into the garden.

"My dear friends!" He shook hands with the schoolmaster and the old
woman and saluted the two Americans. "I could not pass without stopping
a moment. We are going up to an attack. We have the honour to take the
lead."

"You will have a glass of wine, won't you?"

"With great pleasure."

"Julie, fetch a bottle, you know which.... How is the morale?"

"Perfect."

"I thought they looked a little discontented."

"No.... It's always like that.... They were yelling at some gendarmes.
If they strung up a couple it would serve them right, dirty beasts."

"You soldiers are all one against the gendarmes."

"Yes. We fight the enemy but we hate the gendarmes." The commandant
rubbed his hands, drank his wine and laughed.

"Hah! There's the next convoy. I must go."

"Good luck."

The commandant shrugged his shoulders, clicked his heels together at the
garden gate, saluted, smiling, and was gone.

Again the village street was full of the grinding roar and throb of
camions, full of a frenzy of wheels and drunken shouting.

"Give us a drink, you."

"We're the train de luxe, we are."

"Down with the war!"

And the old grey woman wrung her hands and said:

"Oh, the poor children, they know they are going to death!"

CHAPTER IV

Martin, rolled up in his bedroll on the floor of the empty hayloft, woke
with a start.

"Say, Howe!" Tom Randolph, who lay next him, was pressing his hand. "I
think I heard a shell go over."

As he spoke there came a shrill, loudening whine, and an explosion that
shook the barn. A little dirt fell down on Martin's face.

"Say, fellers, that was damn near," came a voice from the floor of the
barn.

"We'd better go over to the quarry."

"Oh, hell, I was sound asleep!"

A vicious shriek overhead and a shaking snort of explosion.

"Gee, that was in the house behind us...."

"I smell gas."

"Ye damn fool, it's carbide."

"One of the Frenchmen said it was gas."

"All