red that none of them need trouble to move. I was too ashamed to
say we were retreating, and I had an eye on the congestion of the roads.
I have sometimes wondered what that tall, thin cure, with the sallow
face and the frightened eyes, said about me when, not twelve hours
later, the German advance-guard triumphantly defiled before him.

Late in the afternoon we passed through Le Cateau, a bright little town,
and came to the village of Reumont, where we were billeted in a large
barn.

We were all very confident that evening. We heard that we were holding a
finely entrenched position, and the General made a speech--I did not
hear it--in which he told us that there had been a great Russian
success, and that in the battle of the morrow a victory for us would
smash the Germans once and for all. But our captain was more
pessimistic. He thought we should suffer a great disaster. Doubting, we
snuggled down in the straw, and went soundly to sleep.

FOOTNOTES:

[6] I had no map with me. All the maps were in use. Looking afterwards
at the map which I obtained later in the day, I am unable to trace my
route with any accuracy. It is certain that the Germans temporarily
thrust in a wedge between the 13th and 15th Brigades.

[7] A small patrol of cavalry, I should imagine, if the tale I heard at
Serches be true.

CHAPTER IV.

THE BATTLE OF LE CATEAU

The principal thing about Le Cateau is that the soldiers pronounce it to
rhyme with Waterloo--Leacatoo--and all firmly believe that if the French
cavalry had come up to help us, as the Prussians came up at Waterloo,
there would have been no Germans to fight against us now.

It was a cold misty morning when we awoke, but later the day was fine
enough. We got up, had a cheery and exiguous breakfast to distant,
intermittent firing, then did a little work on our bicycles. I spent an
hour or so watching through glasses the dim movement of dull bodies of
troops and shrapnel bursting vaguely on the horizon. Then we were all
summoned to H.Q., which were stationed about a mile out from Reumont on
the Le Cateau road. In front of us the road dipped sharply and rose
again over the brow of a hill about two miles away. On this brow,
stretching right and left of the road, there was a line of poplars. On
the slope of the hill nearer to us there were two or three field
batteries in action. To the right of us a brigade of artillery was
limbered up ready to go anywhere. In the left, at t