e the dark wooded hills of Pavant, descending
abruptly to that narrow strip of fertile plain which borders the river
on both sides, but now half-veiled in a heavy blue mist. Below me the
swift current sped onward like a silver arrow, and before so impressive
a spectacle I could not help thinking how meager is the art of the scene
painter and dramatist which tries to depict a real battlefield. For
battlefield I felt this was, and my overstrained nerves no longer
holding my imagination in check, I could already see human forms
writhing in agony, and hear the moaning of souls on the brink of
Eternity. As though to vivify this hallucination, the dying moon
suddenly plunged behind a cloud, lighting the landscape but by strange
lugubrious streaks, and in the distance behind us a long low rumble
warned me that my dream might soon be a terrible reality.

The Marne crossed, a weight was lifted from my shoulders, and settling
back against the pile of blankets in my rig, I let the horse follow his
own sweet will and we started to zig-zag up a steep incline. At the end
of five minutes' time I was so benumbed by the cold that sleep was
impossible, so I left my seat and joined the others who, all save
Yvonne, had been obliged to descend to relieve their horse. What a
climb that was--seven long kilometers from right to left, winding around
that hill, as about a mountain, ever and again finding ourselves on a
narrow ledge overlooking the valley. The fog had spread until literally
choked up between the bills and I could hardly persuade myself that it
was not the sea that rolled below me. Even the signal lamps on the
distant railway line rose out of the labyrinth like a lighthouse in
mid-ocean, making the illusion complete.

Dawn was breaking as we reached the summit and pausing for a moment's
breath, we could see people with bundles hurrying from cottages and farm
yards, while the fields seemed dotted with horses and carts that sprang
out of the semi-darkness like specters, following one another to the
highway. In less than no time the long caravan had re-formed and was
again under way.

We brought up the rear, preceded by five hundred snow-white oxen. There
was no way of' advancing faster than the _cortege_. It was stay in line
or lose your place, and as the sun rose over the plains, I was so
impressed by the magnificence of our procession that I forgot the real
cause of our flight and never for an instant realized that I no