"_La Noire est fille du cannon Qui se fout du qu'en dira-t-on. Nous nous foutons de ses vertus, Puisqu'elle a les tétons pointus. Voilà pourquoi nous la chantons: Vive la Noire et ses tétons!_"
And as they passed the ladies the officer saluted. They were, Blanche explained, on their way back to the great camp at Jarny.
Bugles were sounding among the hills, while ever and anon came the low boom of distant artillery at practice away in the direction of Vigneulles-les-Hattonchatel, the headquarters of the sub-division of that military region.
It was Enid's first visit, and the activity about her surprised her. Besides, the officers were extremely good-looking.
Presently they approached a battery of artillery on the march, with their rumbling guns and grey ammunition wagons, raising a cloud of dust as they advanced.
Blanche pulled the car up at the side of the road to allow them to pass, and as she did so a tall, smartly-groomed major rode up to her, and, saluting, exclaimed in French, "Bon jour, Madame! I intended to call upon you this morning. My wife has heard that you have the general, your father, visiting you, and we wanted to know if you would all come and take dinner with us to-morrow night?"
"I'm sure we'd be most delighted," replied Paul's wife, at the same time introducing Enid to Major Delagrange.
"My father has gone up to the fort with my husband," Blanche added, bending over from the car.
"Ah, then I shall meet them at noon," replied the smart officer, backing his bay horse. "And you ladies are going out for a run, eh? Beautiful morning! We've been out manoeuvring since six!"
Blanche explained that they were on a shopping expedition to Commercy, and then, saluting, Delagrange set spurs into his horse and galloped away after the retreating battery.
"That man's wife is one of my best friends. She speaks English very well, and is quite a good sort. Delagrange and Paul were in Tonquin together and are great friends."
"I suppose you are never very dull here, with so much always going on?" Enid remarked. "Why anyone would believe that a war was actually in progress!"
"This post of Eastern France never sleeps, my dear," was Madame's reply. "While you in England remain secure in your island, we here never know when trouble may again arise. Therefore, we are always preparing--and at the same time always prepared."