"Good luck!"
"Really, good luck?"
"The sooner we go there, the sooner the war will be over!"
"But ... supposing we stay there?"
"Oh well, one end's as good as another!"
Towards evening someone announced that there was a convoy of wounded on the road. Frémont happened to be beside me. I took him by the arm:
"Are you coming to have a look?"
He hesitated. I took him along.
In the principal street a string of carts was filing past, carrying unearthly beings with sunken eyes, and blackened, ravaged faces. They were silent and had dirty bandages, some on their heads and some on their arms.