Then, if you persist, you make out a misty hollow where equally misty and dark lumps are asquat or prone or wandering from one corner to another.  At the back, on the right and on the left, the pale gleams of two candles, each with the round halo of a distant moon allow you at last to make out the human shape of these masses, whose mouths emit either steam or thick smoke.

Our hazy retreat, which I allow carefully to swallow me whole, is a scene of excitement this evening.  We leave for the trenches to-morrow morning, and the nebulous tenants of the barn are beginning to pack up.

Although darkness falls on my eyes and chokes them as I come in from the pallid evening, I still dodge the snares spread over the ground by water-bottles, mess-tins and weapons, but I butt full into the loaves that are packed together exactly in the middle, like the paving of a yard.  I reach my corner.  Something alive is there with a huge back, fleecy and rounded, squatting and stooping over a collection of little things that glitter on the ground, and I tap the shoulder upholstered in sheepskin.  The being turns round, and by the dull and fitful gleam of a candle which a bayonet stuck in the ground upholds, I see one half of a face, an eye, the end of a mustache, and the corner of a half-open mouth.  It growls in a friendly way, and resumes the inspection of its possessions.

“What are you doing there?”

“I’m fixing things, and clearing up.”

The quasi-brigand who appears to be checking his booty, is my comrade Volpatte.  He has folded his tent-cloth in four and placed it on his bed—­that is, on the truss of straw assigned to him—­and on this carpet he has emptied and displayed the contents of his pockets.

And it is quite a shop that he broods over with a housewife’s solicitous eyes, watchful and jealous, lest some one walks over him.  With my eye I tick off his copious exhibition.

Alongside his handkerchief, pipe, tobacco-pouch (which also contains a note-book), knife, purse, and pocket pipe-lighter, which comprise the necessary and indispensable groundwork, here are two leather laces twisted like earthworms round a watch enclosed in a case of transparent celluloid, which has curiously dulled and blanched with age.  Then a little round mirror, and another square one; this last, though broken, is of better quality, and bevel-edged.  A flask of essence of turpentine, a flask of mineral oil nearly empty, and a third flask, empty.  A German belt-plate, bearing the device, “Gott mit uns”; a dragoon’s tassel of similar origin; half wrapped in paper, an aviator’s arrow in the form of a steel pencil and pointed like a needle; folding scissors and a combined knife and fork of similar pliancy; a stump of pencil and one of candle; a tube of aspirin, also containing opium tablets, and several tin boxes.

Observing that my inspection of his personal possessions is detailed, Volpatte helps me to identify certain items—­