"Yes, but there is the story of the trousers!"
Finally, Petit and de Marnac were given thirty days confinement, and I
commenced to breathe.
You believe my story to be ended? Not at all! The most important
episode was not long in coming, to my very great confusion.
January 1, 1915, at the break of day and in the same sector that the
foregoing events transpired, a German lieutenant advanced toward our
lines with a white flag and a bugler.
The officer carried an immense package under his arm, which was wrapped
in pasteboard.
They bandaged the eyes of both and led them into our lines.
Conducted to the colonel, the boche lieutenant announced he had a
communication to make to me. They reached me on the telephone and I
gave the order to send him on.
I waited impatiently for an hour, I swear, and I was far from imagining
what was coming----
* * * * *
The young man was brought into my office; he was a large and solid
chap, who planted himself in front of me and saluted with respect.
"I listen----"
With a strong Teutonic accent he said to me in French:
"His Imperial Highness, the German Crown Prince, commander of the
opposing army, has charged me to bring you this package!----"
I slowly untied the string that bound the package, in which I found a
framed photograph of the German Crown Prince and in the corner he had
likewise written in French:
"To my loyal and chivalrous adversary! William, Crown Prince of
Germany."
I was absolutely nonplused and I dismissed the boche lieutenant, whom I
was on the verge of cursing.
* * * * *
"And the portrait?" I asked General Coutanceau----
"I forwarded it by the usual military channels. General Sarrail did
not fail to notice the outcome, but I never knew what became of the
picture----"
Turning toward me with his rare smile:
"You will agree that this story is a _veritable_ romance!"
RECOMPENSE, BEFORE ORNES.
_October_, 1915.
All night we have worked in No Man's Land.
What a night!
We had to install certain wire entanglements and _chevaux de frise_[16]
in front of our trench of the first line.
Happily the boche mitrailleuse in front of Moulin d'Ornes did not fire;
otherwise we would have been riddled!
My men went at it vigorously and all the work had been terminated--I
had divided them into several gangs and had recommended the new wire
network be placed parallel to the old.
I went over the entire line to survey the work and to observe the
patrols who protected the men ahead of the trenches.
One of my gangs just missed causing us a villainous adventure! They
stumbled on some wire, which by shell-fire had been thrown out of line,
and following it, they had worked directly toward the enemy----
They had placed their _chevaux de frise_ one after the other and I
stopped stupefied on making this discovery. I had for a moment the
impression that my men had been picked up by the boches. Fortunately
not a shot had been heard and I said to myself it would probably be
possible to repair the error committed.