adly, totally ignorant of the
enormity of his conduct, he deposits his load in the mess-cart drawn up
to receive the loot!

The men did not let the opportunity slip by without giving vent to a lot
of criticism.

The Subaltern's ears tingled at the remarks that he heard. Never in his
life had he felt so ridiculous.

Luckily, another similar incident relieved the situation, shortly
afterwards. During a few minutes' halt, a cow near the road stood
gazing, with that apathetic interest peculiar to cows, at the thirsty
men. It was not for nothing, as the French say, that one of the
reservists had been a farm hand. He went up to the cow, unfastening his
empty water-bottle as he went, and calmly leant down and began to milk
the neglected animal until his bottle was full. It was not in itself a
funny proceeding, but there was something about the calmness of both the
cow and the man, and something about the queerness of the occasion, that
appealed to the sense of humour of the dourest old Puritan of them all.
They laughed, they roared, they shouted, in a way that reminded the
Subaltern of the last "soccer" season.

The noise must have mystified the pursuing Uhlans not a little.

But the laugh did not last long on their lips. Directly afterwards they
swung into a road already occupied by a train of refugees. After the
sight of a good strong man struck down in his strength, this, perhaps,
was the saddest sight of the whole war. How miserable they were, these
helpless, hopeless people, trailing sadly along the road, the majority
with all they had saved from the wreckage of their homes tied in a
sheet, and carried on their backs. Some were leading a cow, others
riding a horse, a few were in oxen-driven wagons. They looked as if they
had lost faith in everything, even in God. They had the air of people
calmly trying to realise the magnitude of the calamity which had
befallen them, and failing.

Here and there the Subaltern thought he saw a gleam of reproach in their
faces. It hurt him not a little. Only a few days ago the British had
been advancing, as they thought, to certain victory. All had been
sunshine, or at any rate hope. How the villagers had shouted and cheered
them! How the women had wept with sheer joy, and shy young girls had
thrust flowers into their buttonholes! What heroes they had felt
swinging forward to meet the enemy, to defend the homes of their friends
and Allies, and avenge their wrongs!

The role had be