While he was thinking of these things, they were moving through a country far more thickly populated.  Villages began to crowd upon each other’s heels, and all the villages—­cheering sight—­were full of British soldiers settling down to their billets for the night.  This was the first they had seen of any other Division except their own, and the sight rather dispelled the illusion that, for all these days, they had been alone and unaided in a land of “frightfulness.”

More marching in the darkness!

At last, at about nine o’clock, they reached their billets, but the word scarcely conveys a correct impression of the palatial chateau in which they were quartered.  There was considerable delay in settling the men (which must, of course, be done before an officer thinks of his own comfort) and in detailing the quarters.  At length the officers of the company found themselves in a little bedroom overlooking a river which they supposed to be the Seine.  The Captain, who had been sent on in front of the Battalion to allot billets, produced with pride some chocolate, sardines, and bottled mushrooms.

The Second Lieutenants went in search of the “Company Cookers” to “draw” their tea (in a washing jug), while the Senior Subaltern effected a felonious entry into the room allotted to the General, and purloined all the drinking glasses he could lay hands on, making his departure just as that worthy Officer was coming up the stairs.

The house was evidently of the “nouveau riche” type.  If there was in it nothing that could actually offend the eye, there was certainly nothing to satisfy it.  There was a profusion of gilt mirrors, and an aching lack of pictures:  the lighting was too new and glaring:  the upholstery too flimsy.  But there were baths and soap!  It was too late for the baths, but the soap quickly disappeared.

Just when they were settling themselves drowsily to enjoy a real sleep, free from the fear of a morning attack, protected from the damp of dawn, and with quilts of down to cover them, who should come in but the Colonel!

CHAPTER XIV

THE OCCUPATION OF VILLIERS

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but we’ve got to parade at two in the morning.”

As soon as the door had closed behind him a perfect volley of abuse was heard.  They could not dismiss from their minds the thought that all this sort of thing was unnecessary.  And this was very natural, as no one had had sufficient courage to tell the regimental officer how serious the position was.

Even two hours’ sleep, however, is better than none.

As soon as it became light the Subaltern saw that they were counter-marching along the same road on which they had travelled the previous night.  What did this mean?  Was a stand going to be made at last?  Apparently not, for the resting-place of last afternoon was passed, and they continued to move eastwards.  On consulting the map, he judged that they were marching on Meaux on the Aisne.  He had often read of Meaux; was it not the Bishopric of Bossuet, the stately orator of Louis XIV?  The interest he felt in the question helped to take the weight from his weary limbs.