The Captain anxiously observed the movements of the infantry.
"No," said he. "Those are reserve troops advancing towards the north in order to face the enemy if he outflanks us."
Orders came for us to go and take up position between Sennevières and Nanteuil-le-Haudoin.
There could be no doubt about it. The enemy was turning our lines.
We were seized with a fit of wild rage. Would they manage to pass us, and get to Paris? To Paris ... to our homes ... to kill, sack, rape?...
"Ah," growled Hutin, "what wouldn't I give to murder some of those savages!"
"Trot!" commanded the Captain.
Bending down over their horses' necks the drivers urged the teams forward with voice, knees, whip, and spur.
The same gust of wind seemed to carry with it men, horses, and guns—all this artillery let loose like a tide on the barren fields, over whose furrows it billowed and surged.