no sensation of pain except in my chest.
This made me think that I had broken every bone in my body.
I tried moving first one leg, then the other, then my arms,
my head, my body. No trouble at all, except with my left arm
and side.

I accepted the miracle without attempting to explain it, for
I had something more important to wonder about: who had the
handles of my stretcher? The first thing I did was to open
my eyes, but I was bleeding from a scratch on the forehead
and saw only a red blur. I wiped them dry with my sleeve and
looked again. The broad back in front of me was covered with
mud. Impossible to distinguish the color of the tunic. But
the shrapnel helmet above it was--French! I was in French
hands. If ever I live long enough in one place, so that I
may gather a few possessions and make a home for myself, on
one wall of my living-room I will have a bust-length
portrait, rear view, of a French _brancardier_, mud-covered
back and battered tin hat.

Do you remember our walk with Menault in the rain, and the
_dejeuner_ at the restaurant where they made such wonderful
omelettes? I am sure that you will recall the occasion,
although you may have forgotten the conversation. I have not
forgotten one remark of Menault's apropos of talk about
risks. If a man were willing, he said, to stake everything
for it, he would accumulate an experience of fifteen or
twenty minutes which would compensate him, a thousand times
over, for all the hazard. "And if you live to be old," he
said quaintly, "you can never be bored with life. You will
have something, always, very pleasant to think about." I
mention this in connection with my discovery that I was not
in German hands. I have had five minutes of perfect
happiness without any background--no thought of yesterday or
to-morrow--to spoil it.

I said, "Bonjour, messieurs," in a gurgling voice. The man
in front turned his head sidewise and said,--

"Tiens! Ca va, monsieur l'aviateur?"

The other one said, "Ah, mon vieux!" You know the inflection
they give this expression, particularly when it means, "This
is something wonderful!" He added that they had seen the
combat and my fall, and little expected to find the pilot
living, to say nothing of speaking. I hoped that they would