He seemed to John a strange compound of age and youth, a mixture of the philosopher and the soldier.  That he was a real leader John could no longer doubt.  He saw the little red eyes watching everything, and he noticed that the regiments of Vaugirard had no superiors in trimness and spirit.

They marched until sundown and stopped in some woods clear of undergrowth, like most of those in Europe.  The camp kitchens went to work at once, and they received good food and coffee.  As far as John could see men were at rest, but he could not tell whether the whole army was doing likewise.  It spread out much further to both right and left than his eyes could reach.

The members of the staff tethered their horses in the grove, and after supper stood together and talked, while the fat general paced back and forth, his brow wrinkled in deep thought.

“Good old Papa Vaugirard is studying how to make the best of us,” said de Rougemont.  “We’re all his children.  They say that he knows nearly ten thousand men under his command by face if not by name, and we trust him as no other brigade commander in the army is trusted by his troops.  He’s thinking hard now, and General Vaugirard does not think for nothing.  As soon as he arrives at what seems to him a solution of his problem he will begin to whistle.  Then he will interrupt his whistling by saying:  ‘Ah, well, such is life.’”

“I hope he’ll begin to whistle soon,” said John, “because his brow is wrinkling terribly.”

He watched the huge general with a sort of fascinated gaze.  Seen now in the twilight, Vaugirard’s very bulk was impressive.  He was immense, strong, primeval.  He walked back and forth over a line about thirty feet long, and the deep wrinkles remained on his brow.  Every member of his staff was asking how long it would last.

A sound, mellow and soft, but penetrating, suddenly arose.  General Vaugirard was whistling, and John’s heart gave a jump of joy.  He did not in the least doubt de Rougemont’s assertion that an answer to the problem had been found.

General Vaugirard whistled to himself softly and happily.  Then he said twice, and in very clear tones:  “Ah, well, such is life!” He began to whistle again, stopped in a moment or two and called to de Rougemont, with whom he talked a while.

“We’re to march once more in a half-hour,” said de Rougemont, when he returned to John and his comrades.  “It must be a great converging movement in which time is worth everything.  At least, General Vaugirard thinks so, and he has a plan to get us into the very front of the action.”

“I hope so,” said John.  “I’m not anxious to get killed, but I’d rather be in the battle than wait.  I wonder if I’ll meet anywhere on the front that company to which I belong, the Strangers.”

“I think I’ve heard of them,” said de Rougemont, “a body of Americans and Englishmen, volunteers in the French service, commanded by Captain Daniel Colton.”