Charensac glides up to my side with the two tins of lobster in his hands! On reflecting over the matter, he could not tolerate the loss of such wealth, and so, at the risk of a dose of shrapnel, he actually went back to pick up my preserved food. It's a case of principle; not only will he waste nothing himself, he will not see anything belonging to others wasted. And he actually refuses to accept them for himself! I finally overcome his scruples by reasoning with him somewhat as follows: "I tell you I threw them away, they are not mine. Keep them yourself, you old fool. And take care that the Germans let you live long enough to eat them." He thanks me heartily for the trouble he has taken. The day ends without any serious incidents to ourselves. When evening comes, the section retires into a dug-out. A piece of bread and a tin of _foie gras_ is all we have to eat after a twenty-four hours' fast. At eleven o'clock comes the order to rejoin the rest of the 24th. The company is put on reserve, and we go to sleep in a neighbouring grotto. _Wednesday, 13th January._ Five in the morning. In obedience to command, I rise, but find that I can scarcely stand on my legs. I am quite sick; on trying to put on my things, a feeling of dizziness comes over me. I give up the struggle and stagger away to see the lieutenant. "_Mon lieutenant_, I feel ill and can scarcely stand." "Yes, that's very evident." "Do you think there will be anything of importance happening to-day?" "I don't think so; the company is now in reserve. Remain here. You may go down to the hospital shortly." I lie down again in a corner, on a pile of stones, which seems as soft as eider-down, so great is my fatigue. By candle-light my companions rapidly equip and arm themselves. Reymond and Verrier, Maxence and Jacquard, disappear; I have not even the strength to call after them _au revoir!_ Henriot and Varlet grasp me by the hand. "Come now, old fellow, you're not dead yet." "I feel very near it." "You'll soon be all right. See you again shortly." And off they go. I am left alone in this unfamiliar grotto, which is larger, colder, and more forbidding in appearance than our former one. I again fall into a heavy sleep. Ten o'clock. A succession of dull sounds is heard above the vault: the roar of cannon. I hear whispers and wailings. A relief post has just been installed in the grotto, and I recognize the voices of the major and the attendants. Stretcher-bearers continue to bring in one wounded man after another. What can be the matter? I sit up. They tell me that fighting has been going on over the whole upland for more than four hours. "And where is the 24th?" "The 24th is in reserve." Good. I lie down again and instantly sink off to sleep.