"I stopped you to tell you that you've got to go very fast along here. You see that man cut in two. It's a wicked spot. I've been here for two hours with instructions to tell that to everyone who passes here. That's the order!" THE FOURTH ZOUAVES' BATHTUB, NIEUPORT. _July_, 1915. For several months I lived among the ruins of Madame S----'s villa, having my quarters on the first floor. My orderly replaced the shattered window panes with bits of linoleum. Opening on the sea, the rooms were only partially destroyed. When Commandant Peigné left for Oostdunkerke, he turned this sumptuous apartment over to me. From every angle, in my opinion, it was certainly the most comfortable spot of any in Nieuport-Baths, and particularly in the villa: the rest of it having been more or less wrecked by bombardment. On the ground floor there was a grand piano which could still be played. The furniture in my bedroom was still in place, also there was a magnificent bathtub, of the portable kind, which certainly had not been used for a long time. One fine day I discovered with chagrin that the bathtub had disappeared from the apartment! Immediately I inquired every place, besides protesting vehemently against this inexplicable theft. As we had our mess in the house, I could not help but believe that someone had entered my rooms without the knowledge of our cooks and secretaries and taken my one luxury. * * * * * Finally I had an explanation of this mystery. One day, very early in the morning, I was in a first-line trench, held by the 4th Zouaves, and was preparing to go into the cantonment for breakfast, when one of my comrades stopped me and insisted that I wait for _jus_,[11] which would soon come up, and have some with him. It arrived shortly, boiling, carried by two men, in milady's exquisite bathtub; and she would have blushed to the roots of her hair could she have seen those scoundrels---- THE BRICK BRIDGE, BEFORE ST. GEORGES. _July_, 1915. Why is this wooden bridge called the "Brick Bridge"? The latter is not exactly the right name. Perhaps it is because the little wooden bridge thrown over the evacuation canal at some time has been taken for one of brick by an officer of the Intelligence Corps while studying the map, and he has so baptized it. One afternoon, I was sitting in a communicating trench at the side of Reymond, a few paces from the Brick Bridge. It was a bright, sunny day and the boches were bombarding us with 105's. The shells passed ten or twelve feet over our heads, whistling loudly and exploded in the brickyard 200 yards on the other side of the Passchendael canal---- "If they lower their fire we are gone," said Reymond.