two or three days. Under
these circumstances the day, which was Sunday, the 4th, passed
pleasantly enough.

Maurice, whose courage had returned to him now that he was with the
comrades once more, found nothing to annoy him except the Prussian
bands, which played all the afternoon beyond the canal. Toward evening
there was vocal music, and the men sang in chorus. They could be seen
outside the chain of sentries, walking to and fro in little groups
and singing solemn melodies in a loud, ringing voice in honor of the
Sabbath.

"Confound those bands!" Maurice at last impatiently exclaimed. "They
will drive me wild!"

Jean, whose nerves were less susceptible, shrugged his shoulders.

"_Dame_! they have reason to feel good; and then perhaps they think it
affords us pleasure. It hasn't been such a bad day; don't let's find
fault."

As night approached, however, the rain began to fall again. Some of the
men had taken possession of what few unoccupied houses there were on the
peninsula, others were provided with tents that they erected, but by far
the greater number, without shelter of any sort, destitute of blankets
even, were compelled to pass the night in the open air, exposed to the
pouring rain.

About one o'clock Maurice, who had been sleeping soundly as a result of
his fatigue, awoke and found himself in the middle of a miniature
lake. The trenches, swollen by the heavy downpour, had overflowed and
inundated the ground where he lay. Chouteau's and Loubet's wrath vented
itself in a volley of maledictions, while Pache shook Lapoulle, who,
unmindful of his ducking, slept through it all as if he was never to
wake again. Then Jean, remembering the row of poplars on the bank of the
canal, collected his little band and ran thither for shelter; and there
they passed the remainder of that wretched night, crouching with their
backs to the trees, their legs doubled under them, so as to expose as
little of their persons as might be to the big drops.

The next day, and the day succeeding it, the weather was truly
detestable, what with the continual showers, that came down so copiously
and at such frequent intervals that the men's clothing had not time to
dry on their backs. They were threatened with famine, too; there was not
a biscuit left in camp, and the coffee and bacon were exhausted. During
those two days, Monday and Tuesday, they existed on potatoes that they
dug in the adjacent fields, and even those vegetables had be