But his voice hardly reached us.
"Why doesn't he lie down himself?" said Judsi. "Wot's the sense in it?"
He added:
"Pore Siméon. See wot a bloomin' pirouette 'e made. Didn't I say 'e was too tall!"
The firing slackened off, but we naturally saw nothing. A new rush—too long that one! Pffmm.... Crack! We were enveloped in a noise like the snapping of straps. A man fell not far from me, and the fellow next him looked as if he were going to stop.
"No, no! There isn't time," I shouted.
"Run! Run!" shouted Henriot.
It was easily said!
We had just gone into a ploughed field, and the earth stuck to our shoes.