in a street. The sky had heavily darkened. The fronts of the
houses had taken on a greenish hue and reflected and rooted themselves
in the running water of the street. The market-place curved around in
front of us--a black space with shining tracks, like an old mirror to
which the silvering only clings in strips.

At last, night fully come, they bade us march. They made us go forward
and then draw back, with loud words of command, in the tunnels of
streets, in alleys and yards. By lantern light they divided us into
squads. I was assigned to the eleventh, quartered in a village whose
still standing parts appeared quite new. Adjutant Marcassin became my
section chief. I was secretly glad of this; for in the gloomy
confusion we stuck closely to those we knew, as dogs do.

The new comrades of the squad--they lodged in the stable, which was
open as a cage--explained to me that we were a long way from the front,
over six miles; that we should have four days' rest and then go on
yonder to occupy the trenches at the glass works. They said it would
be like that, in shifts of four days, to the end of the war, and that,
moreover, one had not to worry.

These words comforted the newcomers, adrift here and there in the
straw. Their weariness was alleviated. They set about writing and
card-playing. That evening I dated my letter to Marie "at the Front,"
with a flourish of pride. I understood that glory consists in doing
what others have done, in being able to say, "I, too."

* * * * * *

Three days went by in this "rest camp." I got used to an existence
crowded with exercises in which we were living gear-wheels; crowded
also with fatigues; already I was forgetting my previous existence.

On the Friday at three o'clock we were paraded in marching order in the
school yard. Great stones, detached from walls and arches, lay about
the forsaken grass like tombs. Hustled by the wind, we were reviewed
by the captain, who fumbled in our cartridge-pouches and knapsacks with
the intention of giving imprisonment to those who had not the right
quantity of cartridges and iron rations. In the evening we set off,
laughing and singing, along the great curves of the road. At night we
arrived swaying with fatigue and savagely silent, at a slippery and
interminable ascent which stood out against stormy rain-clouds as heavy
as dung-hills. Many dark masses stumbled and fell with a crash of
accou