Lieutenant Denis will be here in a moment. He fears the Rochets will be
too heavy for you, but we must see."

The lieutenant who had been at dinner the night before entered the shed,
greeted them, and turned to Stewart. "That car is too heavy for your
strength, mademoiselle. It is not a car for a lady."

"I like the make," she said stiffly, conscious of the ears which
listened in the shed.

"See if you can start her now, mademoiselle," said the _brigadier_,
arranging the levers.

There was a still hush in the shed as Stewart bent to the handle. Fanny,
standing by the Rochet which had been assigned to her, felt her
heart thumping.

("Tu vas voir!" whispered the little soldiers watching brightly from
behind the cars. "Attends, attends un peu! Pour les mettre en marche,
les tacots, c'est autre chose!")

Stewart, seizing the handle, could not turn it. In the false night of
the shed the lights shone on polished lamps, on glass and brass, on
French eyes which said: "That's what comes of it!"--which were ready to
say--"March out again, Englishwomen, ridiculous and eager and defeated!"

Fanny, looking neither to right nor left, prayed under her breath
--"Stewart, Stewart we can never live in this shed if you can't
start her. And if you can't, nobody else can...."