TheCompleteMemoirsOfGeorgeSherston

end. Nevertheless, there I was, a living antithesis to
the gloomier entries in my diary, and a physical
retraction of my last year's protest against the *'politi-
cal errors and insincerities for which the fighting men
were being sacrificed".

But our inconsistencies are often what make us
most interestingj and it is possible that, in my zeal to
construct these memoirs carefully, I have eliminated
too many of my own self-contradictions. Anyhow,
human nature being what it is, I wasn't firfding time
to feel sorry for the raiding-party whose dud effort
I'd recently witnessed. No; I was callously resolving
to make a far better job of it with my own men, and
wishing that I could consult the incomparable Cap-
tain Duclos. And I am afraid I was also cogitating
about how I would demonstrate the superiority of A
Company over the other three. My Company's offi-
cers were just up when I got back. I must have been
tired out, for my only recollection of returning to St.
Hilaire is of Velmore taking charge of my notebook
and urging me to stop talking and swallow my break-
fast before having a good sleep. Meanwhile he pro-
mised that he would faithfully expound to the Adju-
tant the details which I had accumulated.

That evening we relieved the East Lancashires.
Nothing worth describing in that, I tell myself. But
the remembering mind refuses to forget, and imbues
the scene of past experience with significant finality.
For when we marched away from the straggling vil-
lage and out into the flat green fertile farmlands, the
world did seem to be lit up as though for some
momentous occasion. There had been thunder
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