"It's time for the Germans to begin," said John, looking at his watch.
"We'd better lie close for the next hour."

They heard the shrieking of more shells and soon the whole earth rocked
with the fire of the great guns. The hostile trenches were only a few
hundred yards in front of them, but the German batteries all masked, or
placed in pits, were much further away. The French cannon were stationed
in like fashion behind their own trenches.

John and his comrades, for the allotted hour, hugged the side of the
trench nearest to the Germans. The shells from the heavy guns came at
regular intervals. Far in the rear men were killed and others were
wounded, but no fragment of steel dropped in their trench. There was not
much danger unless one of the shells should burst almost directly over
their heads, and they were so used to these bombardments that they paid
little attention to them, except to keep close as long as they lasted.

Wharton resumed his novel, Carstairs, sitting on one end of a rude
wooden bench, began a game of solitaire, and John, at the other end,
gave himself over to dreaming, which the regulated thunder of many
cannon did not disturb at all.

It had been months now since he had parted with Philip and Julie Lannes.
He had seen Philip twice since, but Julie not at all When the German
army made a successful stand near the river Aisne, and both sides went
into trenches, Lannes had come in the _Arrow_ and, in reply to John's
restrained but none the less eager questions, had said that Julie was
safe in Paris again with her mother, Antoine Picard and the faithful
Suzanne. She had wanted to return to the front as a Red Cross nurse,
but Madame Lannes would not let her go.