en melodramatic, superb! But here they were, skirting the
very gates of Paris, apparently fleeing before the enemy, and this
without having made any very determined effort at resistance. Poor
protectors they must have looked! Those simple peasants would not
understand the efficacy, the necessity even, of running away "to live
and fight another day," with a greater chance of success.

The Subaltern often used to wonder what the poor wretches thought of
troops, which, though in possession of arms and ammunition, still
retreated--always retreated. They could not understand.

The march came to an end about one o'clock. A halt of half-an-hour for
dinner was ordered in the shade of some huge trees in a park. The
mess-cart and Cookers arrived, and a meal was soon in progress. The
Regimental Officer of what is now referred to as the "Old Army" was
perhaps the best-mannered man one could possibly meet. His training in
the Mess made him so. He was the sort of man who would not have done
anything which so much as even suggested rudeness or greed. He was as
scrupulous of his Mess Rules as a Roman Catholic Priest is of his
conduct at High Mass. To the newly-joined Subaltern, Guest Night
conveyed the holy impression of a religious rite. But here was a comic
demonstration of the fact that the strictest training is only, after
all, a veneer. Two Senior Officers were actually squabbling about a
quarter-pound tin of marmalade! The Subaltern could not help smiling.
The incident merely showed how raw and jagged the Great Retreat had left
the nerves of those who survived it.

An hour's halt passed only too soon, and its later moments were made
uneasy by the instinctive aversion which every one felt for the sound of
the whistles that would mark the end of it. The Battalion, however, had
no sooner swung into the road, than the Colonel, who had been reading a
message with an expression of surprise, held up his hand to signal the
halt. The moment was historic. Although none knew, it was the end of the
Great Retreat.

CHAPTER XVI

THE TURN OF THE TIDE

The next day the Battalion linked up with the Brigade, and instead of
proceeding in the usual direction--southwards--they turned to the north.

There was a great deal of subdued excitement. They were not going to
move off for a precious hour or so, and, as "battle seemed imminent,"
the Subaltern did his best to make up the "deficiencies" in his
equipment.

Another Subaltern lay s