had asked merely to start a polite conversation.

He let the man go, and turned his attention to the village street, which
presented a terrible spectacle of panic. It was obviously unwise to
allow this mob to leave the village, as they seemed to wish, and
disperse, shouting and shrieking, over the countryside. Very possibly
there were spies amongst them, who would bring the enemy about his ears
in half an hour. More likely still, the whole excited crowd would wander
straight into the arms of the Germans, and be treated with the
well-known restraint of Huns towards the unprotected. So he hurriedly
placed guards at the chief outlets of the village, with orders, in
addition to the usual duties towards the enemy, to prevent the French
from leaving it.

He then returned and tried to pacify the inhabitants. But his kind,
soothing words in execrable French did not succeed in dispelling the
panic and fear. He had to draw his sword (for the purpose of
intimidation only) and literally to thrust them into houses. And he had
to get three men with fixed bayonets to help him. He did his best to
make it generally understood that any one who came out of his house and
made a noise would be summarily disposed of. Any sounds of confusion
would inevitably have drawn the fatal attentions of the enemy.

He then made a hurried survey of the roads leading out of the village,
placed sentry groups at various places of advantage, and established the
picket in the centre of the village in a large barn. This done, he sent
the cyclist orderly to try and get into touch with the village on the
right, which, he had been told, was to be occupied by a platoon from
another regiment. The cyclist returned to report that the village was
deserted by the French, and that there was no sign of the Blankshires.