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“It is absurd, ridiculous!” declared Beaudoin, who was again fidgeting up and down before the company. “Who ever heard of placing a regiment in the air like this and giving it no support!” Then, observing a slight depression on their left, he turned to Rochas: “Don’t you think, Lieutenant, that the company would be safer there?”

Rochas stood stock still and shrugged his shoulders. “It is six of one and half a dozen of the other, Captain. My opinion is that we will do better to stay where we are.”

Then the captain, whose principles were opposed to swearing, forgot himself.

“But, good God! there won’t a man of us escape! We can’t allow the men to be murdered like this!”

And he determined to investigate for himself the advantages of the position he had mentioned, but had scarcely taken ten steps when he was lost to sight in the smoke of an exploding shell; a splinter of the projectile had fractured his right leg. He fell upon his back, emitting a shrill cry of alarm, like a woman’s.

“He might have known as much,” Rochas muttered. “There’s no use his making such a fuss over it; when the dose is fixed for one, he has to take it.”

Some members of the company had risen to their feet on seeing their captain fall, and as he continued to call lustily for assistance, Jean finally ran to him, immediately followed by Maurice.

“Friends, friends, for Heaven’s sake do not leave me here; carry me to the ambulance!”

“Dame, Captain, I don’t know that we shall be able to get so far, but we can try.”

As they were discussing how they could best take hold to raise him they perceived, behind the hedge that had sheltered them on their way up, two stretcher-bearers who seemed to be waiting for something to do, and finally, after protracted signaling, induced them to draw near. All would be well if they could only get the wounded man to the ambulance without accident, but the way was long and the iron hail more pitiless than ever.

The bearers had tightly bandaged the injured limb in order to keep the bones in position and were about to bear the captain off the field on what children call a “chair,” formed by joining their hands and slipping an arm of the patient over each of their necks, when Colonel de Vineuil, who had heard of the accident, came up, spurring his horse. He manifested much emotion, for he had known the young man ever since his graduation from Saint-Cyr.

“Cheer up, my poor boy; have courage. You are in no danger; the doctors will save your leg.”

The captain’s face wore an expression of resignation, as if he had summoned up all his courage to bear his misfortune manfully.

“No, my dear Colonel; I feel it is all up with me, and I would rather have it so. The only thing that distresses me is the waiting for the inevitable end.”

The bearers carried him away, and were fortunate enough to reach the hedge in safety, behind which they trotted swiftly away with their burden. The colonel’s eyes followed them anxiously, and when he saw them reach the clump of trees where the ambulance was stationed a look of deep relief rose to his face.

“But you, Colonel,” Maurice suddenly exclaimed, “you are wounded too!”

He had perceived blood dripping from the colonel’s left boot. A projectile of some description had carried away the heel of the foot-covering and forced the steel shank into the flesh.

M. de Vineuil bent over his saddle and glanced unconcernedly at the member, in which the sensation at that time must have been far from pleasurable.

“Yes, yes,” he replied, “it is a little remembrance that I received a while ago. A mere scratch, that don’t prevent me from sitting my horse–” And he added, as he turned to resume his position to the rear of his regiment: “As long as a man can stick on his horse he’s all right.”

At last the two batteries of reserve artillery came up. Their arrival was an immense relief to the anxiously expectant men, as if the guns were to be a rampart of protection to them and at the same time demolish the hostile batteries that were thundering against them from every side. And then, too, it was in itself an exhilarating spectacle to see the magnificent order they preserved as they came dashing up, each gun followed by its caisson, the drivers seated on the near horse and holding the off horse by the bridle, the cannoneers bolt upright on the chests, the chiefs of detachment riding in their proper position on the flank. Distances were preserved as accurately as if they were on parade, and all the time they were tearing across the fields at headlong speed, with the roar and crash of a hurricane.