to the column to tramp through the night to Saint
Quentin. It was the purest melodrama.

And I, too tired to sleep, too excited to think, sat sipping thick
coffee the whole night through, while the things that were happening
soaked into me like petrol into a rag. About two hours before dawn I
pulled myself together and climbed into the loft for forty minutes'
broken slumber.

An hour before dawn we wearily dressed. The others devoured cold stew,
and immediately there was the faintest glimmering of light we went
outside. The column was still passing,--such haggard, broken men! The
others started off, but for some little time I could not get my engine
to fire. Then I got going. Quarter of a mile back I came upon a little
detachment of the Worcesters marching in perfect order, with a cheery
subaltern at their head. He shouted a greeting in passing. It was
Urwick, a friend of mine at Oxford.

I cut across country, running into some of our cavalry on the way. It
was just light enough for me to see properly when my engine jibbed. I
cleaned a choked petrol pipe, lit a briar--never have I tasted anything
so good--and pressed on.

Very bitter I felt, and when nearing Saint Quentin, some French soldiers
got in my way, I cursed them in French, then in German, and finally in
good round English oaths for cowards, and I know not what. They looked
very startled and recoiled into the ditch. I must have looked
alarming--a gaunt, dirty, unshaven figure towering above my motor-cycle,
without hat, bespattered with mud, and eyes bright and weary for want of
sleep. How I hated the French! I hated them because, as I then thought,
they had deserted us at Mons and again at Le Cateau; I hated them
because they had the privilege of seeing the British Army in confused
retreat; I hated them because their roads were very nearly as bad as the
roads of the Belgians. So, wet, miserable, and angry, I came into Saint
Quentin just as the sun was beginning to shine a little.

CHAPTER V.

THE GREAT RETREAT

On the morning of the 27th we draggled into Saint Quentin. I found the
others gorged with coffee and cakes provided by a kindly Staff-Officer.
I imitated them and looked around. Troops of all arms were passing
through very wearily. The people stood about, listless and sullen.
Everywhere proclamations were posted beseeching the inhabitants to bring
in all weapons they might possess. We found the Signal Company, and rode
ahead of it out of