Many of the bridges were broken down, and, after rejoining the car, we had to make a wide sweep to the west. The roads were blocked by the wagons and columns of the French westward movement. I passed again through Crepy and Senlis, and round west of Clermont, which was obviously in the agitated condition peculiar to a military occupation. The distinctness with which the guns could be heard from the St. Just road, suggested that the Germans had advanced considerably to the west, since I had last heard them from the south of Lassigny. From Montdidier we turned east, hoping to get to Roye; but it was getting late and the road became hopelessly congested. An aviator whose machine had been injured and to whom I was able to give a lift, told me that he had seen the German reinforcements pouring up in very great numbers behind the Oise; and it was clear that, for the moment, their possession of the inner lines had given them the advantage in forming on the new front. Through by-lanes west of Roye we made towards Rosières in the dark, hoping to hit a main road back towards Amiens. We were stopped again by the sound of firing in front and a little to the east. Before turning back we determined, if possible, to discover its meaning. Leaving the car in a field, the driver and I walked forward cautiously through the woods in the direction of the sound. We were in one of the big hangars of large forest trees that crown the crests of the rolling uplands in this district. As we came out of the wood, and just across the crest, there came a sudden crackle of rifle firing from the trees on the opposite crest, about a mile and a half, so far as I could calculate in the dark, to the east. For the moment it was difficult to account for it; but the driver suddenly called my attention to some little sparks of flame in the dark sky. They seemed to be dropping on to the far wood. The reason at once suggested itself:--a daring German airman, making a night flight, had located a detachment of the French in the wood, probably by their camp fires, and was dropping little balls of flame to give the range to his associated battery. A few minutes later the dull boom of heavier guns, firing from a greater distance, which continued for some fifteen minutes, and then ceased, made our speculation a certainty. It was a curiously suggestive glimpse; the darkness lit and broken for a moment, declaring the presence of the unceasing, sleepless strife. It was clearly not possible to force our way further north; and, as it was now too late to gain entry into any town of shelter, we spent a not uncomfortable night, sleeping in and beside the car. With the first light we turned west and south, and regained Paris almost as soon as the gates were opened. CHAPTER XIII The Shadow of the War