imes, as I could, in bivouacs and billets.
But I have vowed to keep a written record of the pictures which have
charmed or moved me most during this campaign. If I ever survive it, I
want to be able to read them again in my latter days. I want to have
them read by those who belong to me, and to try to show them what kind
of life we led during those unforgettable days. And it is not always
the battles which leave the most lively impressions. How many
delightful things one could relate that have happened outside the
sphere of action! What memories of nights passed in the strangest
places, as the chances of the march decreed, nights of bitterness
during the retreat, nights of fever during the advance, nights of
depression in the trenches! What kindly welcomes, what beautiful and
what noble figures one might describe!

Sister Gabrielle, as you will never read this, and as your modesty
will not suffer, let me tell the story of the welcome my friend B. and
I received that evening at the Convent of Elverdinghe.

Sister Gabrielle came towards us. How pretty she was, in the coif that
framed her face! How large her blue eyes looked! They really were so,
but a touch of excitement made them seem larger still. Above all, she
had an enchanting smile, a smile of such kindness that we at once felt
at ease and sure of obtaining what we wanted. She spoke in a sweet and
musical voice, hesitating just a little in her choice of words,
although she spoke French very correctly.

"The Sister Superior has sent me to you," she said, "because I am the
only one here who can speak French.... _Messieurs les officiers_,
welcome."

She said it quite simply, and stood quite straight in her black dress,
her arms hanging beside her. She might have been a picture of other
days, an illuminated figure from a missal. We looked at each other and
smiled too, happy to find so unexpected a welcome. B. was now quite
self-possessed.

"Sister Gabrielle," he said, "see what a wretched state we are in; our
clothes covered with mud, our faces not washed since I don't know
when. We have just gone four days without sleep, almost without food,
and we have never stopped fighting. Could you not take in two weary,
famished soldiers for one night?"

Sister Gabrielle retained her wonderful smile. Without moving her
arms, she slightly raised her two hands, which showed white against
the black cloth of her dress. Those hands seemed to say: "I should
like to very much, b