And I never paused to explain--all I wanted to do was to arrive at those cross-roads in advance of Billie.
However I failed in this ambition, but merely because the road I was following did not keep on directly west, but drifted off toward the river.

I only became aware of this change in direction when we intersected a cross-road, and then I ran squarely up against a picket-post, the men having a fire burning to keep them warm.

The light of the flames revealed everything within a radius of a hundred feet, and I could distinguish a dozen infantrymen sitting and lying about, while a couple of others marched back and forth across the road.

I wanted to get farther south, but had only wriggled through the bushes a few yards in that direction before sinking to my knees in mud and water, and being compelled to crawl back.

There was nothing left except to circle the fire in the opposite direction, and come out on the road below.