Was clouded. Silent, arms in hand, in force,
Along the poplar-bordered path we crept
Up to the French post. I, first, drove my saber
Into the soldiers’ back who sentry stood
Before the door. He fell, nor gave the alarm.
We took the cottage, putting to the sword
Every soul there.”
Irene with her hands
Covered her eyes.
“Disgusted with such carnage,