He
hoped that the present war would sweep away all such as Auersperg.
He watched nearly an hour while the automobiles, cyclists, a column of
infantry, and then several batteries of heavy guns drawn by motors,
passed. He judged that the Germans were executing a change of front
somewhere, and that the Franco-British forces were still pressing hard.
The far thunder of the guns had not ceased for an instant, although it
must be nearly midnight. He wished he knew what this movement on the
part of the Germans meant, but, even if he had known, he had no way of
reaching his own army, and he turned back to the cottage.
Having fastened the door securely again he spread the blankets on the
bench by the window and lay down to sleep. The tension was gone from his
nerves now, and he felt that he could fall asleep at once, but he did
not. A shift in the wind brought the sound of the artillery more
plainly. His imagination again came into vivid play. He believed that
the bench beneath him, the whole cottage, in fact, was quivering before
the waves of the air, set in such violent motion by so many great guns.
It annoyed him intensely. He felt a sort of personal anger against
everybody. It was past midnight of the third day and it was time for the
killing to stop. At least they might rest until morning, and give his
nerves a chance. He moved restlessly on the bench a half hour or more,
but at last he sank gradually to sleep. As his eyes closed the thunder
of the cannonade was as loud and steady as ever.
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