Then he felt himself being moved--he recalled vaguely having heard the murmur of a voice--some jolting, sharp pains which hurt. A stop! He heard guttural voices, a bright light passed several times before his eyes which he could not open---- Another shifting--a rapid journey and many bumps and joltings---- * * * * * When he again regained consciousness he found himself in a bed and looked to the right and to the left to find out where he was. He was in a large room and perceived numerous other beds like his own. He could twist his head, but his body was fixed, immobile, and his two arms hurt him terribly. He saw approaching the bed a man very big and strong, with gray hair, gowned in white, accompanied by two assistants and a nurse. The doctor gave several orders in German. Little did it matter to Jean being a prisoner, but his suffering was horrible. The doctor began unwinding the bandages to examine the wounds. Soon he was not conscious of what was going on. They placed a white napkin over his face and he inhaled the strong odor of ether. For some moments it seemed to him cannon were booming in the distance and a loud whistling in his ears, then nothing more---- Some hours later he came to himself for the second time and found that his bed was bound and wrapped like a mummy. He was so feeble--so feeble. How long his sleep had been he did not know. A nurse on seeing him open his eyes brought him tea and he murmured "thanks"; then she cautioned him in very bad French to lie quiet and not to move. The horrible nightmare and the fever lasted through the night and because he steeled himself he would not cry---- In the morning the doctor came back with the nurses and demanded in French that he answer some questions: he must give his name and the unit to which he belonged. Then all got black again before his eyes and the poor devil fainted---- * * * * * Thanks to his strong constitution, he took a turn for the better, not, however, without passing several bad days, and the fever left him. How long was all this going to last? He did not know---- So he began to feel better and stronger and rejoiced when the doctor, in the course of his visits, said to him: "You're going to pull through, and I'm glad of it----" He was still extremely feeble, had to be nourished with a spoon, but he did not forget that he was very well taken care of in this hospital. Turning his head, he perceived with surprise that his neighbor in the next bed was his comrade in the trenches, Paul Dubois---- "Is that you, Patachon?" "Yes, my _pauv' vieux_." "Why, you here, too--what's the matter?----" "A foot gone--leg lots shorter--but I complain no longer, Cobusse; you don't suffer much any more--I thought I heard the death rattle those first days----" "No, I suffer no more----" "You know how we got here?"