Suddenly, terribly, came the explosion. It was fortunate for us that the alarm had held us close to the bank. Whole blocks of granite were hurled into the middle of the river just where we would have been. We were too near and too low and everything went over us. The violence of the waves tore us from the bank and drove us into the strength of the current, and we weren’t fired on once. The whole garrison had been blown up. * * * * * At daybreak, three o’clock in the morning, Lieutenant Delpos woke up the major. “Major,” he said, “it was a machine-gun emplacement. But it is no more. If you will allow me, I’m going to bed. I couldn’t get any sleep over there; there was too much noise.” CHAPTER XVI A COMMANDER At the beginning of June, the colonel’s report informed us that the major of Battalion C ... had been assigned to the ... first Colonials. The battalion commandant’s post was next to ours on the ridge of the quarry. Since the departure of Major L ... the captain adjutant-major, who was assuming the command in the interim, was quartered there. He was devoting himself to his ablutions in the open place in front of his dugout and at the same time telling Lieutenants C ... and D ..., his neighbors, an uproarious adventure of his last leave, when a man, tall and spare, with hollowed cheeks, sunburned skin, eyes deep and shining, modestly dressed,—a mechanic’s blue trousers, badly fitting and muddy boots, regulation trooper’s jacket, with no mark to show his rank,—came out of the sort of tunnel in which the La Vache trench ended, and stopped as if undecided, in front of our dugouts. There was a mounted scout there who was occupying himself in cutting out a ring, and he asked him, “The post of the major of the ... first battalion?” Without stopping his work, the man indicated our group with his hand. He advanced shyly. “The ... first battalion?” “This is it,” said the adjutant-major, drawing his wet head from the canvas bucket in which he was plunging. “I am Major C....” “Oh, Major, I beg your pardon. I didn’t know....” mopping his face rapidly, and putting on his tunic which his orderly handed to him. Without a word, the unperturbed figure, Major C ..., looked off into the distance, beyond material things, waited for him to finish his toilet, and then entered into the P. C. to take possession of his new post. * * * * * None of us who lived constantly in his immediate neighborhood ever knew any other expression on his firm, cold, almost mystical face. His hair was poorly cut, his beard was thin and long, and his voice was gentle, very gentle, so gentle that one might call it a sad sing-song. All in all he had none of the outward appearance of the conventional commander. Nevertheless he was one of the best. * * * * *