more about
anything at all.... How nice it would be! No more uniform to strap you
up after a good dinner; no more shako to squeeze your temples; no more
bullets whistling past you; no more 'coal-boxes' to upset your whole
system, and every evening a bed, ... a nice bed, ... and to think
about nothing!..."
"Hush! Listen," said Sister Gabrielle with a finger on her lips.
At that moment the noise of the firing became louder. The Germans had
no doubt just made a night attack either on Bixschoote or on
Steenstraate, and now every piece was firing rapidly all along the
line. So fast did the reports follow one another that they sounded
like a continuous growl. However, the noise seemed to be dominated by
the reports that came from a battery of heavy guns ("long 120's") two
kilometres from Elverdinghe, which made all the windows of the convent
rattle, I shuddered as I thought of those thousands of shells,
hurtling through the darkness for miles to reduce so many living
human beings to poor broken and bleeding things. And I pictured to
myself our Prussians of Bixschoote sprawling on the ground, with their
teeth set and their heads hidden among the beetroot, waiting until the
hurricane had passed, to get up again and rush forward with their
bayonets, cheering! Sister Gabrielle had the same thought, no doubt.
She looked still whiter than before under her white coif, and clasping
her hands and lowering her eyes, she said in a low voice:
"_Mon Dieu, ... Mon Dieu!_ ... It is horrible!"
"Sister Gabrielle," continued the incorrigible B., "don't let us talk
of such things. Let us rather discuss this omelette, a dish worthy of
the gods, and the bacon in it, the savour of which might imperil a
saint. Sister Gabrielle, you tempt us this evening to commit the sin
of gluttony, which is the most venial of all sins. And I will bear the
burden of it manfully."
I kicked B. under the table, to stop his incongruous remarks. But
Sister Gabrielle seemed not to have listened to him. She went on
serving us smilingly; changed our plates, and brought us ham and
cheese. B. went on devouring everything that was put before him; but
this did not put a stop to his divagations.
"Tell me, Sister Gabrielle, you are not going to turn us out of the
house now, are you? It would be an offence against God, who commands
us to pity travellers. And we are poor wretched travellers. If you
drive us away, we shall have to sleep on the grass by the roadside,
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