shouted something unintelligible, of which we could catch nothing but
the words:

"They're coming, ... they're coming."

Together with O., I succeeded in stopping two men, who were going
along less rapidly, supporting a wounded comrade who was groaning and
dragging himself on one leg.

"Our flank was turned; there are thousands of them. They came through
the village and enfiladed us. We had a great many killed ... our
officer wounded. We must get back further to the rear."

As they went off haltingly with their comrade, whose groans were
pitiable to hear, the tall figure of a lieutenant of foot Chasseurs
rose suddenly before us. He looked like a ghost, and for a moment we
thought he was about to fall, an exhausted mass, at our feet. His face
was covered with blood. The red mask in which the white of the eyes
formed two brilliant spots was horrible to see. His torn tunic and all
his clothing were saturated with blood. He was gesticulating wildly
with the revolver he clutched in his hands, and seemed absolutely
distraught.

As he passed the Major seized him by the arm:

"Halt! halt! Look here, you must rally your men. We can put up a good
defence here."

The officer wrenched himself free, and went off with hasty strides,
calling to us without turning his head: