"Ah! what a man!… What a man! Heavens!… What a man!"
An intense emotion seemed to grip him by the throat, and the feeling in his voice shows that he is stirred to the heart's depth.
"Ah! What a man!… What a man!"
And that was all he could say.
Monday, October 5th.
Porchon brings me some news. When the quartermaster came to announce that the relief would take place this evening, he confided in him that we were going to change our position. Porchon hums gaily:
"We go no more to the woods,
For we have dined!"
"You will perceive," he cries, "that my latest effort as an improviser is more conspicuous than ever. Those words do none the less adequately express my meaning because they were sung. The woods bore one; they suffocate one; one can see nothing; soon now we shall have a plain before us. Tell me what you will think on finding yourself perched on the side of a hill, with the summit, which you must take, whatever the cost, before your eyes? It will be exciting at least! And then it is so clear and distinct. One understands what is required of one. Ah! but we're going to have gay days over there: days of saps, of mine warfare, of assaults."
"Is it far from here?" I ask.