Lieutenant Henriot changed his mind.
"Each man will keep his own rifle!"
"Too late now. How are we to find the owners of them all?"
He got scared.
"I was wrong. I made a mistake!" he repeated.
Guillaumin reassured him by saying all the poilus were sure to turn up.
One would have thought that it all amused him, the long day's march, the hunger and thirst,—everything. He kept on joking—rather too familiarly perhaps—with Lamalou and Judsi and those of our men who still held out. He even took it into his head to talk theatres to me! I soon sent him off with a flea in his ear, as may be imagined. He did not notice for some time that I was limping.
"Foot hurting you?"
"Yes."
He offered to carry my pack. I was on the point of allowing him to, but Lamalou, who was watching me furtively, jeered.