f the roadway, and showed
them where the enemy was attacking and the general strategy. He spoke
simply and gravely, as though to a group of staff-officers, and the
children followed his diagram in the dust and understood him perfectly.

"They will not take Arras if I can help it," he said. "You will be all
right here."

XVII

Gen. Sir Neville Macready was adjutant-general in the days of Sir John
French, and I dined at his mess once or twice, and he came to ours on
return visits. The son of Macready, the actor, he had a subtlety of mind
not common among British generals, to whom "subtlety" in any form is
repulsive. His sense of humor was developed upon lines of irony and
he had a sly twinkle in his eyes before telling one of his innumerable
anecdotes. They were good stories, and I remember one of them, which had
to do with the retreat from Mons. It was not, to tell the truth, that
"orderly" retreat which is described in second-hand accounts. There were
times when it was a wild stampede from the tightening loop of a German
advance, with lorries and motor-cycles and transport wagons going
helter-skelter among civilian refugees and mixed battalions and
stragglers from every unit walking, footsore, in small groups. Even
General Headquarters was flurried at times, far in advance of this
procession backward. One night Sir Neville Macready, with the judge
advocate and an officer named Colonel Childs (a hot-headed fellow!),
took up their quarters in a French chateau somewhere, I think, in the
neighborhood of Creil. The Commander-in-Chief was in another chateau
some distance away. Other branches of G. H. Q. were billeted in private
houses, widely scattered about a straggling village.

Colonel Childs was writing opposite the adjutant-general, who was
working silently. Presently Childs looked up, listened, and said:

"It's rather quiet, sir, outside."

"So much the better," growled General Macready. "Get on with your job."

A quarter of an hour passed. No rumble of traffic passed by the windows.
No gun-wagons were jolting over French pave.

Colonel Childs looked up again and listened.

"It's damned quiet outside, sir."

"Well, don't go making a noise," said the general, "Can't you see I'm
busy?"

"I think I'll just take a turn round," said Colonel Childs.

He felt uneasy. Something in the silence of the village scared him. He
went out into the roadway and walked toward Sir John French's quarters.
There was no