Drill and march. In the afternoon, siesta and conversation beneath the apple-tree. The weather is gloriously fine. We wash our socks in the Mouche. Reymond has managed to secure an order; the lieutenant says to him-- "Since you are a painter, paint my name on my canteen." He takes advantage of this diversion to avoid drill. He paints two white letters every day, and even then.... _Friday, 21st August._ When is the contingent complement to leave? Armed for war, we have seen nothing but the office. It's not enough. A change in our existence: the arrival of Lieutenant Roberty at Humes, and his appearance in our clan. The other day, at muster, there was a rumour abroad that we were soon to have a new sub-lieutenant from Alsace. Here he is, in the centre of the square; of medium height, _papier mâché_ appearance, very dark moustache, and the half-closed eyes of a myope. He wears red trousers and an extraordinary black coat, chimney-corner style, with a little gold lace at the sleeves. I look curiously at him, wondering where the deuce I can have seen that profile, so reminiscent of a tame jaguar. A voice calls me; it is that of the new sub-lieutenant. "Don't you recognize me?" ... "No, _mon lieutenant_, and yet ... really, I cannot remember your name...." "Roberty." Raising my hands, I say-- "I beg your pardon, I have never seen you except in a dress suit." And indeed, I remembered on the occasion of more than one general rehearsal the elegant appearance of my confrère. Comparing to-day's silhouette with that of former times, I simply remark-- "What a change! You look better in civilian clothes." Instead of getting angry with me he merely laughs. A few comrades approach. As Roberty has just come from Alsace, he tells us of the first attack on Mulhouse, in which he took part. "They say," remarks some one, "that the Germans scamper off as soon as they see the French?" "That's what they say at the depot, is it? Well, since you are about to leave for the front, you will see for yourselves." Roberty is bored to death at Humes, though he tolerates the Hôtel Girardot, with its garden and loft. He forgets his rank, and spends his leisure time with us. Discipline has already gained such a hold on us that at first we feel uneasy at such intimacy with a lieutenant. But really it is impossible to keep one's distance with Roberty. And now we have an additional comrade under the apple-tree or under the spiders' webs in the loft. News at last. The French have had to fall back in Alsace. A big effort, however, is soon to be made in the north. The Russians have crossed the Prussian frontiers. In spite of slight impediments, things continue to go well. _Saturday, 22nd August._ By flattering the quartermaster I have had my haversack, which was slightly worn, exchanged for a new one. I put my things in it with the contented feeling of one who has managed to purchase a glass cupboard after years of economy.