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Having successfully settled their business, there was time to look around. Souvir was a bigger village than Poussey, and seemed to be teeming with troops, who looked as if they had been used to the place for years, and were likely to remain in it longer.
He read of Napoleon's retreat on Paris in its time accounted the most scientific retreat in history. Soissons! Montmirail! Why, they had almost passed into both these places! How everything that had ever happened would shrink before this which was going on now, half a mile away. Whether it was the second or third day of their stay in Poussey that the march began again the Subaltern does not know.
Then, just as darkness was closing down on the hopeless tangle, a message was passed up to "close on the road." The relief at this order was impossible to describe. Their spirits rose meteorically. They scarcely succeeded in hiding their joy from the cavalry who were to be left in their trenches, and when they set off towards Poussey there was a wonderful swing in their step.
It seemed incredible that a sword could hide itself so completely. He kicked about in the pitch-dark for what seemed to be endless minutes before his foot knocked against it. He "pushed it home" hurriedly, and started off in pursuit of the men. But the darkness had swallowed them up. He followed the road right into Poussey, but still there was no sign of them.
The only sound of firing was miles and miles down the line, in the direction of Poussey. The Subaltern's Platoon happened to be the second in the leading Company. Already there was movement in front, and, crawling forward to the end of the line, he climbed up the bank to take stock of the position. To the north was a little copse, the intervening ground a vegetable field.
At last the canal bridge was reached and the bombardment ceased, but instead of being allowed to turn in towards Poussey, they were told to relieve the other two companies in the trenches. They found the line, and "took over" the trenches without mishap. Of course, in those days trenches were not built as they were later.
The enemy artillery observation seemed too acute, the weight of his shells too heavy, and the wood in front too thick. About three o'clock in the afternoon the General must have decided that the holding of the hill was too costly a business. He therefore ordered it to be evacuated, and the troops to retire on the village of Poussey.
"It just wanted to be twenty feet lower," said some one speculatively. The Subaltern enjoyed very much his short stay in Poussey. The old Mayor and his wife were a charming couple, and as usual did everything in their power to make their Allies comfortable.
He overtook his men sooner than he expected, and the open space was passed without any resistance. "They're probably expecting a big attack at dawn, and they've brought us up in reserve again," some one said. Sure enough, the attack took place, but, like its predecessor, it failed, and they naturally expected to be sent back to the trenches at Poussey. In this, however, they were disappointed.
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