A week later the sergeant informed the boys that marching orders had been given, and they were to move with a detachment to the southwest.
“Going our way, hurrah!”
Henri then remembered that this meant parting from his brother, and was less inclined to rejoice when this sad thought came to his mind.
Francois was seated near one of the low windows of the hospital building, enjoying the bright sunlight that shone through the open casement.
He had a smile in his eyes when he saw Henri, with knapsack on his back, approaching.
“I know it’s good-by, brother,” he said. “But take it easy, old boy. We’ll have a grand reunion some day.”
Henri lovingly clasped the free hand of the young soldier, in silent farewell, bravely squared his shoulders and marched away to join Billy and the sergeant, waiting at the door.
A bugle sounded and the soldier column swung away from war-torn Arras.