At 8 o'clock I was at my place again with Hias. The poor Frenchman was whining more pitiably than ever. For half an hour we listened; then Hias lost his patience. "What a tribe of pigs," he broke out, "to leave a comrade to die like a dog! He can't last much longer." "Well, Hias," I said, "what can we do? I am sorry for him myself, but there is no help. He must die." After a few minutes a terrible scream: "Oh, la, la, la, la!" pierced the night. Then there was quiet. God be praised! Now he is dead and at peace, I thought. And quietly I repeated a few prayers for his soul. But after a while we heard his cry again. "Well, it's enough now," exclaimed Hias. "I can't stand this any longer. I'm going to get him, with or without permission." He spoke and disappeared. In a minute his brother took his place at my side, while he himself ran up to the trenches. He was back in about ten minutes. He had the permission. The lieutenant also was going and asked if I would come along, as I knew something of first aid and could speak a little French. When we got to the lieutenant three more men, splendid fellows, on whom one could rely, had volunteered. In a twinkling we had gathered tent cloth, side arms and saws and were running singly across the meadow. Of course, the sentries were notified that we were out in front. We entered the wood. While two men worked with knives and saws to cut a way through, the others held themselves ready for anything that might develop. We stumbled over bodies, weapons and knapsacks. At last I found a little path which the French had made a few days previously. I rested a while and was just about to return to my comrades when a hand gripped my foot. Great God, I was frightened! For a second I was paralyzed; then, tearing out my sword-- "Pitie! pitie!" Some one under my feet was whining for mercy. My teeth chattered. I could hardly move or answer. "Oh, m'sieur camarade; pitie! pitie!" Suddenly the lieutenant appeared and I found my control again. Getting down on my knees, I carefully groped for the body. "Look out now," whispered the lieutenant. "It may be a trap." "Give me your hand," I ordered the Frenchman. A cold, moist, trembling hand was put into mine. "Where is your weapon?" I asked. He had lost it as he pulled himself along till he was exhausted. Suddenly from somewhere near we heard the horribly familiar call, "Oh, la! la!" "Well, now," said the lieutenant, "we have one man, but not the right one." I asked the wounded one whether we would be seen if we tried to get the other man. "_Oui, mon brave camarade, Allemand._" The lieutenant hesitated, but resolved nevertheless to go on. One man remained behind with the Frenchman--a corporal, he said he was--with orders to stab him instantly if he called for help while we were working our way through the brush. We came to the edge of the wood at last and peered out.