"You'll have to get her married," I said.
He shook his head gently:
"She is as ugly ... as I am!"
Hour after hour went by, without bringing anything worse than our inaction. We were inclined to become pessimistic. A sinister rumour spread, at one point—Ought we to believe it?—Yes, Laraque the connecting file, who had taken refuge with us for a minute, confirmed the frightful mistake. Our divisional cavalry had ventured outside our lines, and got into the line of fire from our batteries. A captain in the observation post had tried distractedly to telephone but just then the line had been cut and communications interrupted. Pandemonium. Our batteries had the troopers marked, found their range, and soon decimated them. They had been seen galloping madly in every direction, forming into bunches, and ending by flying towards the enemy's trenches, where they were met by grape-shot. The captain had gone off his head, the signaller who was responsible had been executed—not that it undid the damage!
Laraque left us. We were crushed by his recital. That was a most gloomy part of the proceedings. The big "coal-boxes" (quite recently christened) were beginning to pour down on all sides of our line raising heavy black clouds. A fusillade crackled, a little way off. Some of our companies were engaged, so they said. Our turn seemed to have come—we should bring only deadened wills to the impact....
And then suddenly, just as at Mangiennes, the falling dusk took us by surprise. The call to "Cease fire" went. The extraordinary thing was that both sides appeared to obey it. The uproar suddenly decreased.
Laraque passed again bearing better news. First of all—he laughed—the horrible tale of our cavalry having been annihilated by our 75's ... well, it had been entirely contradicted! Our guns had fired on the Uhlans all right, the plain was strewn with their bodies! Then that village, Houdclancourt, which I have described as having been battered by the German artillery ever since the morning—an officer who had come from there had given the exact total of casualties: six wounded, not one more than that! Pure waste of powder!