We halted on the outskirts of a village called Tracy-le-Mont, where the supply-train was waiting for us. Rations were issued, the men in their cloaks standing in a black circle round the provision wagon, which was lit by a solitary lantern. Hutin and Déprez were among them. Somebody was calling out the guns:
"Third!... Fourth!..."
"First!" cried Hutin.
"You've missed your turn. You'll have to come last now."
We talked while waiting. Hutin was very tired and hungry.
"There's some good grub going," said he. "We're going to get some fresh meat."
"Yes, but fires will be forbidden."
"I suppose you haven't seen the postmaster?" he asked suddenly.
"No, why?"
"Because in the first line you see him more often than we do."