You picture, then, the regiments arriving one by one at the end of that most exhausting day. The men dog-tired, hardly able to drag their feet over the burning ground, no proper meal since a hasty breakfast at dawn, fighting on and off all day, and now simply done to the world. Now, it is a golden rule in the Service that, however tired the men may be, they must set to work at the end of their march to entrench themselves or otherwise prepare against possible attack. I leave it to your imagination to realise the meaning of "discipline" when you learn that the men did entrench themselves that evening. And never was that rule more finely vindicated. I conceive Marshal von Kluck at German G.H.Q. soliloquising that Tuesday morning something in this wise: "My friends von Buelow and Hausen have between them settled with the French on this side, and _they_ won't give any more trouble. Von Buelow and I have pretty well pounded and demoralised the English, and one more effort should finish _them_. Now, I will just give them enough to keep them busy through to-day, keep them on the run and exhaust them thoroughly, and then to-night we'll have a really hot attack and crumple up the First Corps. They'll never stand that; and we shall then have the rest of their army surrounded."? And that is the suggestion about the day's work which I venture to make. We have seen how the daylight hours went for the British, and how the Force drifted in to their destinations. Now we will see how von Kluck crumpled up the First Corps with his night attack. The 1st Division was halted in and about Maroilles, and the 2nd Division at Landrecies. They were therefore on the extreme right of the line, with their flank more or less "in the air," for no French seemed to be near. Landrecies was held by the 4th Brigade, battalions of the Foot Guards, Grenadiers, Coldstreams and Irish, under General Scott-Kerr. The torrid heat of the day had been the prelude to a cool, rainy evening. Room was found for about two-thirds of the Brigade in the houses and halls of the little town--a typical French country-town, with its straight streets and market-place. The remainder of the men got what little comfort they could on a rainy night outside. By 9 P.M. they had hardly begun to settle down, after "clearing decks for action"--in case. Outposts had been placed, and the men were congratulating themselves on a comfortable shelter after so many nights of foot slogging. At 9.30 lights were out, and town and country-side were in pitch darkness. A battalion of the Coldstream Guards had not yet arrived, but was about a quarter of a mile from the town, marching in. The colonel was at the head of the column with the guide. This man persisted in flashing an electric torch to and fro towards the left, and the C.O. peremptorily ordered him to put it out. The man obeyed for a few yards, and then flashed the light again.