Thereupon the letter is timidly placed in Milliard's hands. About five in the afternoon, Charensac assures us with a knowing air-- "Castelnau has put off the attack." _Friday, 25th; Saturday, 26th; Sunday, 27th September._ We recross the Aisne and again begin to dig holes. The trenches are soon deep enough, covered with foliage. We rest, surrounded by picks and shovels. It is very hot. Some write or talk; others roll about on the grass. The shells mostly pass far above our heads. Of a sudden, however, three of them burst too near to be pleasant. Quickly returning to our holes, we form a carapace. Is it over? No, a fourth explosion is heard. But no harm is done. _Monday, 28th September._ The night is spent guarding the bridge of boats so heroically defended on the 20th by a company of engineers. No incident worth mentioning; a few spent bullets fall near the sentry-box. In the morning we mount to the trenches and the day is spent idling about the grass. We have surrounded a corner of the meadow with branches of trees, sharpened and driven into the ground. No enemy, however excellent his observation glasses, could possibly discover our whereabouts. It is almost as peaceful as under the apple-tree of _Père Achille_. A fencing match, with sticks for swords. Whenever the hum of an aeroplane is heard, the usual cry is raised-- "An aeroplane! Quick! To earth!" Like rabbits we run and hide in our holes. Jules appears, carrying a hen which he has come across somewhere and which Varlet has cooked without drawing or eviscerating it. The mistake is regrettable. All the same, Corporal Belin goes too far in refusing his share, protesting he will not eat a morsel of "that filth." Varlet gets vexed. Being accustomed to speak at public meetings, he has a tongue. But Belin, who has served nine years in the Foreign Legion, has principles of his own. "I have served in Morocco and Western Algeria," he says, "and have often gone without food altogether, but I have never seen any one cook a hen undrawn." And he sticks to his opinion. Thereupon Varlet calls him a savage. "A savage!" shrieks Belin, "a savage because I refuse to eat a hen's entrails!" The dispute becomes embittered. Varlet forgets his position. Belin points to his red stripes and furiously sputters out threats. The lieutenant intervenes and peace is made. Varlet acknowledges that it would have been better to draw the fowl, whilst Belin consents to eat a wing without making a wry face about it. _Tuesday, 29th; Wednesday, 30th September._ For the time being, at all events, the sector is to be organized for the defensive. The positions held by the enemy before Fontenoy can only be taken, we are informed, by siege. The Germans have constructed very strong trenches and lodged their reserves in grottoes sheltered from all possible bombardment, i.e. in subterranean quarries of which there are several in these parts.