campaign too many brave soldiers have paid with their lives for their
delight in epic fights _à la_ Lasalle.

I searched the edge of the wood carefully with my field-glasses.
Before entering it I wanted to be quite sure whether any movement
could be discovered, whether any of the brushwood showed signs of
being drawn aside by sharpshooters too eager for a shot. My men were
on the watch, crouching in attitudes that would have pleased Neuville,
their carbines ready, looking with all their eyes and listening with
all their ears. Nothing! I called Vercherin with a low whistle. The
silence was such that he heard it. He understood the sign I made him,
and, holding his carbine high, he went slowly towards the wood and got
into it quickly by the road.

My heart beat for a moment when I saw my scout getting near the thick
border-line of trees; but now I breathed again. We went in after him,
each one by a different opening, and we passed through it as quickly
as the horses' legs and the difficulties of the ground would allow. On
arriving at the further side I was glad to see my four companions
emerging, almost at the same moment, from the thick woody tangle. I
could see their grave and confident faces turned towards me. On the
ridge in front of us, near a solitary tree, stood Vercherin, clear
against the sky and motionless.

We had soon rejoined him, and from this height we saw on the next hill
the second wood which hid the village of Courgivault from our view,
about a kilometre further off. I feared very much that this second
barrier might be used by the enemy as a formidable line of defence,
and on that account I ordered the approach to be made with still
greater precautions than before. But, as in the first case, we found