* * * * * So having come round to the Ouse again, and to the edge of the Fens at Lynn, I went off at random whither next it pleased me to go. THE GUNS I had slept perhaps seven hours when a lantern woke me, flashed in my face, and I wondered confusedly why there was straw in my bed; then I remembered that I was not in bed at all, but on manoeuvres. I looked up and saw a sergeant with a bit of paper in his hand. He was giving out orders, and the little light he carried sparkled on the gold of his great dark-blue coat. "You, the Englishman," he said (for that was what they called me as a nickname), "go with the gunners to-day. Where is Labbé?" Labbé (that man by profession a cook, by inclination a marquis, and now by destiny a very good driver of guns) the day before had gone on foot. To-day he was to ride. I pointed him out where he still lay sleeping. The sergeant stirred him about with his foot, and said, "Pacte and Basilique"; and Labbé grunted. In this simple way every one knew his duty--Labbé that he had another hour's sleep and more, and that he was to take my horses: I, that I must rise and get off to the square. Then the sergeant went out of the barn, cursing the straw on his spurs, and I lit a match and brushed down my clothes and ran off to the square. It was not yet two in the morning. The gunners were drawn up in a double line, and we reserve drivers stood separate (there were only a dozen of us), and when they formed fours we were at the tail. There was a lieutenant with us and a sergeant, also two bombardiers--all mounted; and so we went off, keeping step till we were out of the town, and then marching as we chose and thanking God for the change. For it is no easy matter for drivers to march with gunners; their swords impede them, and though the French drivers have not the ridiculous top-boots that theatricalise other armies, yet even their simple boots are not well suited for the road. This custom of sending forward reserve drivers on foot, in rotation, has a fine name to it. It is called "Haut-le-pied," "High-the-foot," and must therefore be old. A little way out of the town we had leave to sing, and we began, all together, one of those long and charming songs with which the French soldiery make-believe to forget the tedium of the road and the hardship of arms.