The smiles were reappearing on the despairing faces, the French jest was leaping from row to row, and on resuming their march the groups began to sing.
Then he went to see the officers who in the village square were giving their horses a brief rest before rejoining their columns.

With perplexed countenances and heavy eyes they were talking among themselves about this retreat, so incomprehensible to them all.

Days before in Guise they had routed their pursuers, and yet now they were continually withdrawing in obedience to a severe and endless order.

"We do not understand it," they were saying.

"We do not understand." An ordered and methodical tide was dragging back these men who wanted to fight, yet had to retreat.