We were billeted in a school, a pleasant change after the wretched holes we had been given in Argonne. I slept until it was broad daylight. When I awoke, our poilus had been up for a long time. Judsi was parting his hair, and talking of asking for leave to go and see his lady friend. I went on lying in my corner for quite a long time. I was haunted by the gloomy speculations which had attacked me the day before. I thought of you, Jeannine, and wondered if you were thinking of me....
De Valpic appeared at the door and glanced round the room. He caught sight of me and came up.
"Good morning, old chap!"
He sat down beside me.
"This Paris air does buck one up. I'm in the 'pink' this morning!"
He coughed.
"And what about you?"
"Not so dusty."
He continued:
"You did look cut up last night. Directly I got up, I said to myself, now it's my turn to go and cheer him up!"
I smiled.
[Pg 402]
"Awfully decent of you, but did I need it as much as all that?"
There was a moment's silence, while his warm gaze probed me. Then he put his hand on my shoulder:
"We aren't getting letters," he said, "but it doesn't mean that they have forgotten us, old man!"
He had accentuated his words, with the intuition of a generous heart. How cleverly he had seen through the almost unconscious yet ever-present motive of my bitterness. I hoped he would continue—but he did not force my reserve. Simply and quietly he began to open his heart to me again, as he had the other day. I learnt that his betrothed was named Anne-Marie, and he told me her family name too, an illustrious one, as I had supposed. The last card he had had from her had been sent from Laon, he said.... Yes, she was down there with a detachment of nurses.
De Valpic spoke slowly, in his expressive, caressing voice. He told me what strength and stoical tenacity of purpose he had drawn more than once, from the tender daily letter. Without this assistance he would have faltered and fallen at the beginning. He considered that now was the time, when he, like me, had been deprived of all news, for so long, to stand fast, to show himself worthy of her, to put forth all the strength which she had inculcated into him.
It was a confidence which seemed to prompt mine, or take it for granted, a new bond between us. All he told me of his fiancée, I could attribute to Jeannine. Valiant children, they were both alike in their attachment to us, in their task of inspiration. I too invoked a certain passage in one of the recent letters, buttoned up in my tunic, where courage and patience were[Pg 403] preached to me, where I was implored never to despair of happiness. Stick to it, then, by way of homage, in proof of manly devotion. I fervently forbade myself to let despondency get a hold over me. Ah! If only I could have made enthusiasm my daily bread.
"I've just been writing," continued De Valpic. "Sent from here, perhaps it will arrive. Won't you imitate me?"
I asked him to excuse me for a moment while I scrawled a few lines. I told Jeannine that fate had deigned to answer my prayer, and bring me near to her.... Nothing more than a smiling testimony to our faith and hope.
On reading it over I laughed and said:
"Well, if she is not cheered up by that!"
"You know," he said, "that Paris is showing a most admirable spirit."
"Really? How can you judge of it?"
"Come along!"
He gave me a hand by which to pull myself up. We went out. In the street I was at once struck by all the windows decked with flags flapping in the wind, the serenity written on the faces of the people walking about, the tranquil hum. I had seen the city look like this during the mobilisation.
"Has there been—a victory?" I murmured.
"It will come all in good time!" De Valpic said gaily. "Don't be in such a hurry!"
Bells were beginning to ring.
"It's Sunday," he continued. "What luck to be here on a Sunday!"
We took a few steps. It was a clear, spring-like morning; a gentle breeze made the sunlit tree-tops[Pg 404] quiver. A troop of little children ran up brandishing sticks and spades.
"Hurrah for the soldiers!" they cried.
They had the attractive, wide-awake faces common to Paris boys. They nudged each other.
"It's the 3rd ... just look!"
"My big bruvver's in the 302nd."
Some of them gazed into our eyes saying:
"'Ad a 'ard time, 'aven't yer, but we're sure to wop 'em, ain't we?"
"Wop 'em—rather!" De Valpic retorted joyously.
The passers-by smiled at us, or gave us a friendly wave of the hand. The City greeted us, not as her saviours—Paris did not admit that she was in any danger,—but simply as good children who had suffered for her sake.
The rare trams which were running, began to turn out numbers of Sunday excursionists. A great many had come with their families either on foot, or bicycling, to enjoy the air of their beloved suburb. Not one of them showed the least trace of terror. They were marvellously light-hearted. It was amusing to see the fathers pointing out the preparations for defence to their offspring, the trenches and barricades made of trees placed at intervals along the avenues, and supplying the explanations in a serious or amused tone of voice. The little brats enjoyed the unusual sight. Their eyes were often turned skywards, a Taube was the only thing wanting to make their joy complete.
De Valpic pressed my arm. He was triumphant.
"Well, what do you say to it?"
Two pretty young women, who were crossing the road, came up to us. They were attractive and[Pg 405] distinguished-looking. They both had baskets on their arms, and we noticed their brassards. They gracefully offered us cigarettes, cakes, and packets of sweets tied up with ribbons. I helped myself discreetly. De Valpic would only accept a flower, which he stuck in his cap.
"And what about your comrades?"
We called Bouillon who was passing. He was still only half-clothed, as he had been washing at a fountain. At last he made up his mind to it and they made a great fuss over "the brave poilu."
Having stuffed him with dainties, they began to question him. W............