hear them cry in the dusk.

* * * * *

. . . What a happiness to see that you are drawing. Yes, do this for us
both. If you knew how I itch to express in paint all our emotions! If
you have read my letters of all this time you will know my privation,
but also my happiness.

_Monday, November 9, 7 o'clock._

. . . We have returned to the wide open view that I love so much.
Unfortunately we can only catch a glimpse of it through mouse-holes.
Well, it is always so!. . .

. . . All these days I have been feeling the charm of a country lying in
autumn sweetness. This peace was troubled yesterday by the poignant
sight of a burning village. It is not the first we have seen, and yet we
have not grown used to it.

We had taken up our observation-posts; it was still dark. From our
height we saw the tremendous flare and, at daybreak, the charming
village, sheltering in the valley, was nothing but smoke. This, in the
silvery nimbus of a glorious morning.

From our mouse-trap we had looked to the distance with its prettily
winding road, its willow-bordered stream, its Calvary: all this harmony
to end in the horror of destruction.

The Germans had set fire to it by hand in the night; they had been