It was not much after nine when two English officers strolled down the
road--Captain Edwards and Major Ellison, of the Bedfordshire Light
Infantry. They came into the garden, and the scene with Captain Simpson
of the day before was practically repeated. They examined the plain,
located the towns, looked long at it with their glasses; and that being
over I put the usual question, "Can I do anything for you?" and got the
usual answer, "Eggs."
I asked how many officers there were in the mess, and he replied "Five";
so I promised to forage, and away they went.
As soon as they were out of sight the picket set up a howl for baths.
These Bedfordshire boys were not hungry, but they had retreated from
their last battle leaving their kits in the trenches, and were without
soap or towels, or combs or razors. But that was easily remedied. They
washed up in relays in the court at Amelie's--it was a little more
retired. As Amelie had put all her towels, etc., down underground, I
ran back and forward between my house and hers for all sorts of things,
and, as they slopped until the road ran tiny rivulets, I had to change
shoes and stockings twice.
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