Admitting that he might be wrong, a frenzied declamation of the kind would turn him into a worm.
He assumed, then, the demeanor of one who knows that he is doomed alone to unwritten responsibilities.

He lagged, with tragic glances at the sky.
He was surprised presently by the young lieutenant of his company, who began heartily to beat him with a sword, calling out in a loud and insolent voice: "Come, young man, get up into ranks there.

No skulking'll do here." He mended his pace with suitable haste.

And he hated the lieutenant, who had no appreciation of fine minds.

He was a mere brute.
After a time the brigade was halted in the cathedral light of a forest.
The busy skirmishers were still popping.