There was a short whistle—the captain calling up the N.C. O's.
"Well, my friends," he said, "we have been complimented on our resistance the other night, and up till four o'clock yesterday in front of the Montrolle woods. Apparently we did not do badly!" He waited for a minute. "That is not all. We are asked, or I should say commanded, to intervene again. A great honour for the regiment!"
We were all hanging on his lips.
"Mind you remember this date," he said, "in case we come back. This is the night, the 9th to the 10th, that the battle is to be won. We are attacking all along the line, and I think I may be allowed to tell you, in confidence, that some of our comrades alongside have just entered Silly-le-Long. At the other extremity the Zouaves have taken Lizy-sur-Ourcq. The enemy is apparently still in possession of a little hill near here. What we've got to do is to oust them from it." His voice trembled. He must have been trying to find a last word of encouragement. Not succeeding, he added: "We start in five minutes!"
A remark not lacking in eloquence.
I joined De Valpic in the darkness. His cough had made me aware of his presence.
Guillaumin, who ran against us, said, in a joking tone: "Well, if we aren't polished off this time!" And then, a little more gravely: "If only it's of some use."
"Do you doubt it?"
"I? What do you think? I wouldn't change places. Those who have missed this——"