han the Marne was in sight.

* * * * *

"And that," said the Captain, "is where we are at present."

"They'll turn on us in a day or two, and then there'll be the devil of a
fight," said the Senior Subaltern.

Everybody laughed at him, but they had an uneasy feeling that he would
be right.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE LAST ADVANCE

While he was dreaming, the time slipped by almost unnoticed. It was not
until eleven o'clock that a halt was made. He could just discern in the
darkness the dim outlines of what appeared to be a large farm-house,
surrounded by barns and outhouses. Some transport had got jammed in the
yard. He could hear the creak of wheels, the stamping of hoofs, and
shouts. There was not a light anywhere, and they waited for half-an-hour
that seemed interminable, for they were drenched through, and tired, and
were longing for any cover out of the wet. Sounds of shuffling were
heard in front, and at last they found themselves on the move again.
Another fifty yards, as far as a gate in a wall, and then they stuck
again. More weary, exasperating minutes; then at last the bedraggled
figure of the Captain loomed out of the darkness.

"Is that you?" he asked.

"All right, lead round here!"

He led them to a large barn, and they turned in to sleep just as they
were. No supper, not a fire to dry their sodden clothes, not a blanket
to cover their chilled bodies.

As usual, they got to sleep somehow, and as usual dawn came about thirty
hours before they were ready for it.

They moved out immediately, and continued the course of the march. The
rain-laden clouds had rolled completely away. The sky looked hard and
was scarcely blue; the country was swept by a strong nipping wind, for
which they were very thankful, since it served to dry their clothes.

The Machine-gun Officer, passing down the Battalion, walked with them
while he told them two wonderful stories. It may have been crude, but in
another way it was almost as satisfying as breakfast.

He solemnly explained to them that the war was nearly over. The Germans,
lured into making this tremendous and unnecessary effort to capture
Paris, had left their eastern front dangerously weak. The Russians were
pouring into Germany in their millions. The Cossacks were already around
Posen. Nobody quite knew where Posen was, but it sounded deliciously
like Potsdam. Anyway, they would be there in a month.

A few surplus millions,