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"There's a soldier up the road, drunk or mad. He has been attacking a
girl. The villagers want an officer to arrest him."
The colonel sliced off the top of his egg and then rose. "Tell three
orderlies to follow me."
We went into the roadway, and twenty women crowded round us with a
story of attempted violence against an innocent girl. The man had been
drinking last night at the estaminet up there. Then he had followed
the girl, trying to make love to her. She had barricaded herself in
the room, when he tried to climb through the window.
"If you don't come out I'll get in and kill you," he said, according
to the women.
But she had kept him out, though he prowled round all night. Now he
was hiding in an outhouse. The brute! The pig!
When we went up the road the man was standing in the center of it,
with a sullen look.
"What's the trouble?" he asked. "It looks as if all France were out to
grab me."
He glanced sideways over the field, as though reckoning his chance of
escape.


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