s. We discussed the
political future of Sir F. E. Smith. We also disputed whether there was
an equivalent in English for _embusque._ Every now and then a shell came
over--an aimless shell.

A certain liveliness marked our departure from the town. Possibly the
Germans also listen for the rare infrequent automobile. At any rate, as
we were just starting our way back--it is improper to mention the exact
point from which we started--came "Pheeee---woooo." Quite close. But
there was no _Bang!_ One's mind hung expectant and disappointed. It was
a dud shell.

And then suddenly I became acutely aware of the personality of our
chauffeur. It was not his business to talk to us, but he turned his
head, showed a sharp profile, wry lips and a bright excited eye, and
remarked, "_That_ was a near one--anyhow." He then cut a corner over
the pavement and very nearly cut it through a house. He bumped us over
a shell hole and began to toot his horn. At every gateway, alley, and
cross road on this silent and empty streets of Arras and frequently in
between, he tooted punctiliously. (It is not proper to sound motor horns
in Arras.) I cannot imagine what the listening Germans made of it. We
passed the old gates of that city of fear, still tooting vehemently, and
then with shoulders eloquent of his feelings, our chauffeur abandoned
the horn altogether and put his whole soul into the accelerator....

3

Soissons was in very much the same case as Arras. There was the same
pregnant silence in her streets, the same effect of waiting for the
moment which draws nearer and nearer, when the brooding German lines
away there will be full of the covert activities of retreat, when the
streets of the old town will stir with the joyous excitement of the
conclusive advance.

The organisation of Soissons for defence is perfect. I may not describe
it, but think of whatever would stop and destroy an attacking party or
foil the hostile shell. It is there. Men have had nothing else to do and
nothing else to think of for two years. I crossed the bridge the English
made in the pursuit after the Marne, and went into the first line
trenches and peeped towards the invisible enemy. To show me exactly
where to look a seventy-five obliged with a shell. In the crypt of the
Abbey of St. Medard near by it--it must provoke the Germans bitterly to
think that all the rest of the building vanished ages ago--the French
boys sleep beside the bones of King Childebert the S