glaring white road wound up the flank of the slope
between fields dotted with apple trees. At a distance of 800 yards in
front of us stretched the dark border of the wood, from which the
fusillade was coming. To our right, at the edge of the water, on the
road leading to Marcilly, F. must have been able to see the enemy, for
we could distinctly hear the crackle of his carbines.

Our attention was drawn to a man of F.'s troop running along under the
wall, bending almost double to escape the attention of the sniper, and
endeavouring to screen himself behind the high grass. As soon as he
came near enough we called out:

"What is it?"

"The Lieutenant has sent me to say that the enemy has just placed
some guns in position up there, in the opening of the wood."

Saying which, he pointed vaguely in a direction where we could see
nothing. However, we knew that F. would not have warned us if he had
not been quite certain of the fact, so for some unpleasant minutes we
wondered what the enemy's objective was. We longed to know, at once,
where the projectiles were going to burst. Would it be on F.'s troop,
or on the bridge, or on the infantry, which, perhaps, were beginning
to debouch, or, perhaps, on that portion of the brigade that had
remained dismounted on the left bank, drawn up for action? The
uncertainty was worse than the danger itself. But we were not long in
doubt. Two shrieks of flying shells! Two explosions about 300 yards in
front of us! Two puffs of white smoke rising above the green fields!
This showed they had an objective we had not considered, namely,
d'A.'s troop, for the shrapnel had burst in the direction he had just
taken with his men.

Our anxiety did not last long. We soon made out our Chasseurs, coming
back quietly, not running, and in good order. They took to the ditch,
a fairly deep one, which ran along on the left side of the road, and
covered them up to the middle. The German shells were badly aimed, and
exploded either in front of them or higher up on the hillside. But our
anxiety became more intense every minute. Had a shell fallen on the
road or in the ditch, we should have seen those brave fellows knocked
over, mown down, cut to pieces, by the hail of bullets. When we are
fighting ourselves we hardly have time to think about our neighbours
in this way. We have our own cares, and our first thought is the
safety of the men who form our little family, the troop. But when one
is safe, or fairly