d horse."

By some means we succeeded in persuading him that the chase was useless
and that it would be better for him to get into our billet and start out
next morning, early. We dragged him up the rue des Augustins, to the rue
Amiral Courbet. Outside the iron gates I spoke to him warningly:

"You've got to be quiet. There are staff-officers inside..."

"What?... Staff officers?... Oh, my God!"

The boy was dismayed. The thought of facing staff-officers almost
sobered him; did, indeed, sober his brain for a moment, though not his
legs.

"It's all right," I said. "Go quietly, and I will get you upstairs
safely."

It was astonishing how quietly he went, hanging on to me. The little
colonel was reading The Times in the salon. We passed the open door, and
saw over the paper his high forehead puckered with perplexity as to the
ways of the world. But he did not raise his head or drop The Times at
the sound of our entry. I took the boy upstairs to my room and guided
him inside. He said, "Thanks awfully," and then lay down on the floor
and fell into so deep a sleep that I was scared and thought for a moment
he might be dead. I went downstairs to chat with the little colonel and
form an alibi in case of trouble. An hour later, when I went into my
room, I found the boy still lying as I had left him, without having
stirred a limb. He was a handsome fellow, with his head hanging
limply across his right arm and a lock of damp hair falling across his
forehead. I thought of a son of mine, who in a few years would be as
old as he, and I prayed God mine might be spared this boy's tragedy...
Through the night he slept in a drugged way, but just at dawn he woke
up and stretched himself, with a queer little moan. Then he sat up and
said:

"Where am I?"

"In a billet at Amiens. You lost your horse last night and I brought you
here."

Remembrance came into his eyes and his face was swept with a sudden
flush of shame and agony.

"Yes... I made a fool of myself. The worst possible. How can I get back
to Pozieres?"

"You could jump a lorry with luck."

"I must. It's serious if I don't get back in time. In any case, the loss
of that horse--"

He thought deeply for a moment, and I could see that his head was aching
to the beat of sledge-hammers.

"Can I wash anywhere?"

I pointed to a jug and basin, and he said, "Thanks, enormously."

He washed hurriedly, and then stared down with a shamed look at his
muddy uniform, all cr