I repeated the information the motor-cyclist had given us. He hurriedly consulted his map.
"On the bank, you say? We're pursuing them? Oh, but that means a great victory!"
The captain blew his whistle. We formed into a semi-circle.
"My friends ..." he began.
Armed with a piece of straw, Humel was tickling his neighbour's neck. This childishness shocked me.
The captain said only a few words. He was nothing of an orator. I was afraid for a moment that his speech might end in gibbering. He recovered himself and concluded. And the men seemed moved by it. It didn't take much to do the trick!
The company formed up again, by platoons, in columns of four. I considered my companions, one by one, with passionate curiosity.
Bouillon was licking his lips, topping that last bit of cheese! Judsi had got hold of Siméon, and was ragging him, telling him that big louts like him would be the first to be knocked out. Siméon was genuinely amused by the idea. Lamalou was calmly blackening Icard's, the miller's, sight. They might all have been a hundred miles away from the battle-field where more than one of them would fall!
And Guillaumin? I asked him how he felt.