How calm it is to-day! In the corner where I have taken refuge with my writing materials geese are gobbling up haricots under my very feet, as pleased as Punch at their daring. The youths of Class 14 appear on the scene; they are mostly from the Vosges. We tell them-- "Hullo, young ones! The war will be over before your training is finished." They agree with the sentiment, though vexed to think it may be true. And they assure us they would do everything required of them, if called upon, just as well as the older men. "All the same," we reply, "you can't expect us to want the war to continue merely to enable you to give an exhibition of your talents!" FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: A _musette_ is a kind of brown cloth satchel worn by a French soldier over the right shoulder and containing his rations, etc.--_Translator's Note._] CHAPTER II IN LORRAINE _Sunday, 23rd August._ This morning we started in the direction of Belfort. About midnight the whole of Humes was peacefully sleeping when the bugler sounded a prolonged call, repeated all over the village. In a twinkling we join our squads. It appears that the regiment at the front urgently needs reinforcements of five hundred men. The complement--no longer contingent--has mustered in the dark. After the roll-call we are summoned to the office for the last time. Distribution of rations and small loaves. At six o'clock the five hundred are ready to start. Our chief is a lieutenant of the reserve--a schoolmaster in civil life. Each man has picked a few flowers on the roadside to fasten a bunch to his rifle. The whole depot is present. Verrier and Reymond give me a vigorous handshake. Really the whole scene moves me, though for nothing in the world would I have it appear so. "Look out, there! Number! Form fours! Right wheel! Forward!" The column begins to move, and we thunder forth the _Marseillaise_ with the utmost enthusiasm. I turn round to wave a last farewell to my friends. They return the gesture and shout, "_Au revoir!_" At Langres station we enter the train, which rumbles off in an easterly direction. I again have the luck to find myself in a second-class carriage. The same atmosphere and gaiety as when we left Paris for the depot. Almost all my companions have gone before their turn. They are convinced they will come back and see the end of the business. And they wish to be in at the victory. The heat is terrible. Perspiration trickles down faces already bronzed by a fortnight in the open air. There are ten in the compartment; all the same, at nightfall, we manage to drop off to sleep. _Monday, 24th August._ Daybreak. The road is blocked; we advance but slowly, stopping several times in the course of an hour. We almost run into a locomotive and three carriages that have been overturned, the result of a recent catastrophe.