“No more of the ‘expensive, idle loafer’ talk,” said some one.

It was the vindication of the British Army.

CHAPTER XXIX

TO STRAIGHTEN THE LINE

Later in the morning there would probably be an inspection of arms.  They had always to be very careful that the rifles were in proper working order.  A few stiff bolts at a critical moment might make all the difference.

The next function would be dinner.  This generally consisted of bully beef made into a sort of stew, and some potatoes, stolen from a field near by.  It must be confessed that the stews were not a great success, and the Subaltern conceived a violent dislike to them.  The sudden change from “the move” to “reserve” perhaps upset his system.  He confessed to not “feeling very fit.”  The others, however, all seemed to have insatiable appetites for food and sleep.  Instead of marching twenty miles a day on one or two meals, they now had their rations regularly and got very little exercise.  They slept as if sleeping sickness was laying its hold upon them, and when not sleeping they were eating.

The wine store had not yet been exhausted in the village, and very often they had a bottle with their suppers.  The honey in the two jars seemed inexhaustible—­indeed, everybody grew tired of it in time; and in the end the remnants were presented to another Company.  The patisserie continued to yield new bread, and they ate such quantities of it, still hot from the oven, that many of them got “livers.”  They were notoriously the first Company when it came to “looking after themselves.”  “Which,” as the Senior Subaltern said, “shows sense.”

Once, when they had just finished their midday meal, the usual order “to stand to arms” came through, and they were hurried along the road that ran parallel to the river, towards Soissons.  The march was longer than usual, and they were just beginning to entertain hopes that the deadlock had been broken and that they were once more on the advance, when an abrupt halt was called, and they were ordered to throw themselves hastily behind the bank along the roadside.

They could see nothing, neither friend nor foe.  The only sound of firing was miles and miles down the line, in the direction of Poussey.  The Subaltern’s Platoon happened to be the second in the leading Company.  Already there was movement in front, and, crawling forward to the end of the line, he climbed up the bank to take stock of the position.  To the north was a little copse, the intervening ground a vegetable field.  Further off, to the east, there was a big hill, crowned with a dense-looking forest which, as far as he could see, was deserted.

The Colonel, who was not to be deceived by a new appearance of quietude, had somehow made his way to the little copse, and was examining the hill with his glasses.  The Adjutant, who had followed him, presently rose to his feet.