No doubt we should find them somewhere in quarters.
No success. Two men of the squad lost!
"That's what comes of lending men," said the sergeant with a great
oath. The captain, when apprised of the loss, also cursed and swore
and said, "I must have those men. Let them be found at once. Allez!"
Farfadet and I are summoned by Corporal Bertrand from the barn where
at full length we have already immobilized ourselves, and are
growing torpid: "You must go and look for Volpatte and Fouillade."
Quickly we got up, and set off with a shiver of uneasiness. Our two
comrades have been taken by the 5th and carried off to that infernal
shift. Who knows where they are and what they may be by now!
We climb up the hill again. Again we begin, but in the opposite
direction, the journey done since the dawn and the night. Though we
are without our heavy stuff, and only carry rifles and
accouterments, we feel idle, sleepy, and stiff; and the country is
sad, and the sky all wisped with mist. Farfadet is soon panting. He
talked a little at first, till fatigue enforced silence on him. He
is brave enough, but frail, and during all his prewar life, shut up
in the Town Hall office where he scribbled since the days of his
"first sacrament" between a stove and some ageing cardboard files,
he hardly learned the use of his legs.
Just as we emerge from the wood, slipping and floundering, to
penetrate the region of communication trenches, two faint shadows
are outlined in front.
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