But it was not the wine. It was another officer, dressed like the others in a grey uniform bereft of all insignia; he was very red and covered with dust and mud. He saluted the captain and nodded to the lieutenant, loosened his belt and flung his grey helmet on the piano where the others lay.
"Ah, Feldmann," cried Captain Fischer. "What have you done?"
"My duty," said the new-comer in a curious hoarse voice.
"Der Pfarrer?" ... questioned Von Wedel.
The man nodded and made a grimace. "And that idiot of a scout-boy too. It was he who fired at you," he said turning to Fischer.
"It was not," said the captain. "It was an old man, from a window. Near the church."
"Oh well, I didn't see any old man," said Captain Feldmann. "And these civilians must be taught their lesson.... What have we here?" he added, surveying the table. "I am famished." And he took two or three sandwiches, placed them one on the other and ate them. "Beastly hole, this," he remarked, with his mouth full. "We needn't have come here at all."
"Oh yes, we need," declared Fischer very sternly.
"Well, we won't discuss that," said Feldmann. "And anyhow we are going on in the morning. I should like something to drink."
Chérie had flushed to the roots of her hair. She had grasped the one thing only—they were going on in the morning! At any cost she must tell Louise that wonderful news. And she did so rapidly, in low tones, in Flemish.