The surgeon pointed to the kitchen, now the hospital devoted to
the wounded men.

"The poor fellows are anxious about the next few hours," he
replied. "They dread a surprise, and they ask me if there is any
reasonable hope of their having one night's rest. What do you
think of the chances?"

The captain shrugged his shoulders. The surgeon persisted.

"Surely you ought to know?" he said.

"I know that we are in possession of the village for the
present," retorted Captain Arnault, "and I know no more. Here are
the papers of the enemy." He held them up and shook them
impatiently as he spoke. "They give me no information that I can
rely on. For all I can tell to the contrary, the main body of the
Germans, outnumbering us ten to one, may be nearer this cottage
than the main body of the French. Draw your own conclusions. I
have nothing more to say."

Having answered in those discouraging terms, Captain Arnault got
on his feet, drew the hood of his great-coat over his head, and
lit a cigar at the candle.

"Where are you going?" asked the surgeon.

"To visit the outposts."