I've an idea that
our victory yesterday was greater than the French and British have
realized, but which the Germans, of course, understand. Why do they
leave us here, almost neglected, and why do their officers walk about,
looking so doubtful and anxious? I've heard that the Germans were
approaching Paris with five armies. It may be that we've cut off at
least one of those armies and that it's in mortal danger."
"It may be so. But have you thought, Fleury, of the extraordinary
difference between this morning and yesterday morning?"
"I have. In conditions they're worlds apart. Hark! Listen now, Scott, my
friend!"
He lay on the grass and put his ear to the ground, just as John had
often done. Listening intently for at least two minutes, he announced
with conviction that the cannonade was moving eastward.
"Which means that the Germans are withdrawing again?" said John.
"Undoubtedly," said Fleury, his face glowing.
They listened a quarter of an hour longer, and John himself was then
able to tell that the battle line was shifting. The Germans elsewhere
must have fallen back several miles, but the army about him did not yet
move. He caught a glimpse of the burly general walking back and forth in
the forest, his hands clasped behind him, and a frown on his broad,
fighting face. He would walk occasionally to a little telephone station,
improvised under the trees--John could see the wires stretching away
through the forest--and listen long and attentively.
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