After that, we came to a little town of pale stone which an Army had made its headquarters.  It looked like a plain woman who had fainted in public.  It had rejoiced in many public institutions that were turned into hospitals and offices; the wounded limped its wide, dusty streets, detachments of Infantry went through it swiftly; and utterly bored motor-lorries cruised up and down roaring, I suppose, for something to look at or to talk to.  In the centre of it I found one Janny, or rather his marble bust, brooding over a minute iron-railed garden of half-dried asters opposite a shut-up school, which it appeared from the inscription Janny had founded somewhere in the arid Thirties.  It was precisely the sort of school that Janny, by the look of him, would have invented.  Not even French adaptability could make anything of it.  So Janny had his school, with a faint perfume of varnish, all to himself in a hot stillness of used-up air and little whirls of dust.  And because that town seemed so barren, I met there a French General whom I would have gone very far to have encountered.  He, like the others, had created and tempered an army for certain work in a certain place, and its hand had been heavy on the Boche.  We talked of what the French woman was, and had done, and was doing, and extolled her for her goodness and her faith and her splendid courage.  When we parted, I went back and made my profoundest apologies to Janny, who must have had a mother.  The pale, overwhelmed town did not now any longer resemble a woman who had fainted, but one who must endure in public all manner of private woe and still, with hands that never cease working, keeps her soul and is cleanly strong for herself and for her men.

FRENCH OFFICERS

The guns began to speak again among the hills that we dived into; the air grew chillier as we climbed; forest and wet rocks closed round us in the mist, to the sound of waters trickling alongside; there was a tang of wet fern, cut pine, and the first breath of autumn when the road entered a tunnel and a new world—­Alsace.

Said the Governor of those parts thoughtfully:  “The main thing was to get those factory chimneys smoking again.” (They were doing so in little flats and villages all along.) “You won’t see any girls, because they’re at work in the textile factories.  Yes, it isn’t a bad country for summer hotels, but I’m afraid it won’t do for winter sports.  We’ve only a metre of snow, and it doesn’t lie, except when you are hauling guns up mountains.  Then, of course, it drifts and freezes like Davos.  That’s our new railway below there.  Pity it’s too misty to see the view.”

But for his medals, there was nothing in the Governor to show that he was not English.  He might have come straight from an Indian frontier command.