e of all my scenes taken to-day. Have you a light,
Monsieur Andrew?"

"Oui, Monsieur, I have only one lamp left and I hid that as the Bosche
took everything that was made of brass or copper, even the door
handles."

He brought in the lamp, a small brass one with a candle stuck in it. I
proceeded with my record, then we supped on bread, sardines, and bully,
sharing our white bread with Andrew and his wife. They had not seen or
tasted such wonderful stuff since the Bosche occupation, and their eyes
sparkled with pleasure on tasting it again. I had brought copies of the
_Echo de Paris_, _Journal_, _Matin_ and other French papers, and these
were the first they had seen for two years. The farmer declared it was
like a man awakening from a long sleep.

"We'll turn in," I said.

Gathering up my coat I opened the door. The freezing cold seemed to
chill me to the bone, and it was snowing hard. I flashed on my torch and
we found our way to the car. Quickly getting inside, I unfolded the
seats which formed two bunks, and struggling inside our sleeping-bags we
were soon asleep.

[Illustration: THE QUARRY FROM WHICH I CRAWLED TO FILM THE GERMAN
TRENCHES IN FRONT OF ST. QUENTIN, 1917. IT WAS ALSO THE POINT OF LIAISON
BETWEEN THE BRITISH AND FRENCH ARMIES]

I awoke with a start. It was pitch dark. I rubbed the steam from the
door window and looked out; it was still snowing. I had an extraordinary
feeling that something was happening, that some danger was near. If
anybody had been there near the car I should have seen them; the snow
made that possible. But there was not a sign of movement. I got out
of my sleeping-bag, thinking that if any prowling Bosche patrol ventured
near I should be able to do something. Nothing happened, and for quite
half an hour I was on the alert. Several rifle-shots rang out quite
near, then quietness reigned again, and, as nothing else happened, I
wriggled into my bag again and dozed.

In the morning I told one of our patrol officers of my experience.

"You were right," he said. "Uhlan rearguard patrols sneaked in near the
village, and must have passed quite close to your place. My men had some
shots at them and gave chase, but owing to the confounded snow they got
away."

I decided that if I slept there again that night it would be with a
rifle by my side.

CHAPTER XXIX

BEFORE ST. QUENTIN

The "Hindenburg" Line--A Diabolical Piece of
Vandalism--Brigadier H.Q. in a Cellar--A