"The guns!"
"What?"
It ran along repeated from mouth to mouth. The guns! The guns! I shuddered with physical anguish. A battle in progress over there, quite near by, which I felt would draw us in and swallow us up. The guns! Were they the ones which would make a pulp of my body?
Guillaumin suddenly appeared and seized me by the arm.
"My heart's beating. How queer it is!"
I was stupid enough to swagger.
"It reminds me of the Camp of Châlons!"