They had first withdrawn the horses to Nanteuil-le-Haudrouin a little northwest of us, about halfway between us and the trenches in the Forêt de Laigue. But that cantonnement had not been satisfactory, so they had retired here. By sundown everything was arranged--four hundred horses along the hilltop, and, they tell us, over fifteen thousand along the valley. We were told that the men were leaving Nanteuil the next morning, and would arrive during the afternoon. It was just dusk on Monday when they began riding up the hill, each mounted man leading two riderless horses. It was just after they passed that there came a knock at the salon door. I opened it with some curiosity. When you are to lodge a soldier in a house as intimately arranged as this one is, I defy anyone not to be curious as to what the lodger is to be like. There stood a tall, straight lad, booted and spurred, with a crop in one gloved hand, and the other raised to his fatigue cap in salute, and a smile on his bonny face,--as trig in his leather belted bleu de ciel tunic as if ready for parade, and not a sign of war about him but his uniform. "Bon jour, madame" he said. "Permit me to introduce myself. Aspirant B------, 23d Dragoons." "Regular army?" I said, for I knew by the look of him that this was a professional soldier. "St. Cyr," he replied. That is the same as our West Point. "You are welcome, Aspirant," I said. "Let me show you to your room." "Thank you," he smiled. "Not yet. I only came to present myself, and thank you in advance for your courtesy. I am in command of the squad on your hill, replacing an officer who is not yet out of the hospital. I must see my men housed and the horses under shelter. May I ask you, if my orderly comes with my kit, to show him where to put it, and explain to him how he may best get in and out of the house, when necessary, without disturbing your habits?" I had to laugh as I explained to him that locking up, when soldiers were in the hamlet, was hardly even a formality, and that the orderly could come and go at his will. "Good," he replied. "Then I'll give myself the pleasure of seeing you after dinner. I hope I shall in no way disturb you. I am always in before nine," and he saluted again, backed away from the door, and marched up the hill. He literally neither walked nor ran, he marched. I wish I could give you an idea of what he looks like. At first sight I gave him nineteen years at the outside, in spite of his height and his soldierly bearing and his dignity.