and the bridges down, did you ever cross the Aisne
at Soissons?"
The major smiled. His scholarly face was very pleasant when he smiled.
"I rather fancy they set a trap for us there they never had the strength to spring. Probably we were intended to cross to the other side where they expected to fall on us and finish us off. It's obvious, isn't it, when the men crossed in small boats or walked across stringers of which the Huns must have had the exact range?
"I paddled over," he went on, "with a squad in a row boat.
You know, the tiny tub had Titanic painted across its bow. Really gave me a start. It seemed an omen—a properly bad one. But, thank heavens, the omen didn't work. That Titanic made a safe crossing—didn't get a shell near enough to make us jump."
He poured thick cream over a fruit compote. He ate the mixture with a visible appreciation. Later he smoked a cigarette with the same air of a sybarite. Clearly, like so many out here, he had learned to draw from each moment its maximum gift.
After luncheon the general led us to a rear verandah overlooking a formal garden in whose shrubbery portable huts nestled for the housing of his staff. But we were chiefly interested in the
