"Bring 'im along 'ere then," said Bubb. Fitzgerald turned to his companion who had just moved to one side, but now he could not see him. On his right a dark form became one with the night and lost itself. "Hi!" Fitzgerald shouted. But there was no reply. "Hi there!" he cried in a louder voice, but no answer came back. "There was somebody with me but he's gone now," he said to Bubb when he reached him where he stood along with Benners and the sergeant beside a dark pond near the ruined cottage. "Well, we had better try and get back to our billet," the sergeant remarked. "Damn these beastly fields! We'll be damned unlucky if we don't get out o' 'em." They got into the farmhouse at eleven o'clock. All their mates were in bed and the watch-dog at the gate bit Bubb in the upper part of the thigh as he came in. CHAPTER III IN LOVE As I was going up the road Ma'selle said, "_Voulez vous_ Come in and have some _pain et beurre_ And _café au lait_ for two." So now I hope the war won't end; I'll never go away And leave my little Madamoiselle Who sells good _café au lait_. I hope the war will never end,-- A curse upon the day That takes me away from Madamoiselle, Who sells good _café au lait_. (_From "The Love of an Hour."_) Fitzgerald made his way to the barn, which was above the byre, sat down in the straw but did not unloosen his puttees or boots. A lamp swinging from a beam lit up the apartment, showing the straw heaped in the corners, the sickles and spades hanging from the rafters, the sleepers lying in all conceivable positions, the bundles of equipment, the soldiers' rifles which stood piled in the corners out of the way. Now and again a rat glided across the straw, stood for a moment in the light, peered cautiously round, and disappeared. The air was full of the smell of musty wood, of straw, and of the byre underneath. All was very quiet, little could be heard save the breathing of the men, the noise of the restless cattle as they lay down or got up again. Snoggers and Benners laid themselves on the straw, Bowdy curled up like a dog, Snoggers stretched out as stiffly as a statue. Bubb undressed and Fitzgerald, getting to his feet, applied sticking plaster to the dog's bite. "You'll go mad, you know," said Fitzgerald. "The only thing that can save you is to get three hairs of the dog that bit you and put them on here." Having performed his job Fitzgerald sat down and Bubb dressed again. Then he lay on the straw, both hands in his overcoat pockets, one leg across the other and a cigarette in his mouth. "Get down to it, Fitz," Snogger shouted. "Ye're damned slow o' showin' a leg in the mornin', you woman." "It's all right, Sergeant," the Irishman replied. "I'm just goin' to look at a paper. I'll be in bed in a twinkling." "Douse the glim 'fore you kip, then," said the sergeant. "Night!"