y side,
and Mrs. Markham came behind. Helen began to feel the influence of a
personality, a will stronger than her own, and she yielded to it without
further question and without reluctance, having the feeling that she had
known this girl a long time.

The trembling lights of the forest increased, moving about like so many
fireflies in the night; the nauseous odours grew heavier, more
persistent, and for a moment Helen felt ill; her head began to spin
around at the thought of what she was going to see, but quickly she
recovered herself and went on by the side of the girl who never
faltered. Helen wondered at such courage, and wondering, she admired.

The ground grew rougher, set with tiny hillocks and stones and patch
after patch of scrub bushes. Once Helen stumbled against something that
felt cold even through the leather of her shoe, and she shuddered. But
it was only a spent cannon ball lying peacefully among the bushes, its
mission ended.

They reached burnt ground--spots where the scanty grass or the bushes
had been set on fire by the cannon or the rifles. Many places still
burned slowly and sent up languid sparks and dull smoke. In other places
the ground was torn as if many ploughs had been run roughly over it,
and Helen knew that the shells and the cannon balls had passed in
showers. There were other objects, too, lying very quiet, but she would
not look at them, though they increased fast as they went on, lying like
seed sown above ground.

They were at the edge of the forest now, and here the air was thicker
and darker. The mists and vapours floated among the trees and lay like
warm, wet blankets upon their faces. They saw now many moving figures,
some bending down as if they would lift something from the earth, and
others who held lights. Occasionally they passed women like themselves,
but not often. Some of the men were in gray uniform and some in blue,
but they passed and repassed each other without question, doing the work
they had come there to do.

Here in the forest the area of burnt ground was larger, and many coils
of smoke rose languidly to join the banks of it that towered overhead.
The still objects, too, were lying as far as one could see, in groups
here, somewhat scattered there, but the continuity never broken, many
with their faces upturned to the sky as if they awaited placidly the
last call. Helen was struck by this peace, this seeming confidence in
what was to come. The passage, then,