All night he stood and thought it out, glowering between the cracks of the car at the passing whirl, differentiating through the blackness now and then a group of trees or buildings or a quick flash of furtive light, but mainly darkness and monotony. It was as if he were tied to the tail of a comet that dashed hellwards for a billion years, so long the night extended till the dull gray dawn. There was no God anywhere in that dark night. He had forgotten about Him entirely. He was perhaps strongly conscious of the devil at his right hand.
They detrained and hiked across a bit of wet country that was all alike--all mud, in the dull light that grew only to accentuate the ugliness and dreariness of everything. Sunny France! And this was sunny France!
At last they halted along a muddy roadside and lined up for what seemed an interminable age, waiting for something, no one knew what, nor cared. They were beyond caring, most of them, poor boys! If their mothers had appeared with a bowl of bread and milk and called them to bed they would have wept in her arms with joy. They stood apathetically and waited, knowing that sometime after another interminable age had passed, the red tape necessary to move a large body like themselves would be unwound, and everything go on again to another dreary halt somewhere. Would it ever be over? The long, long trail?
Cameron stood with the rest in a daze of discouragement, not taking the trouble to think any more. His head was hot and his chest felt heavy, reminding him of Wainwright's fat knee; and he had an ugly cough.
Suddenly someone--a comrade--touched him on the shoulder.
"Come on in here, Cammie, you're all in. This is the Salvation Army Hut!"
Cameron turned. Salvation Army! It sounded like the bells of heaven. Ah! It was something he could think back to, that little Salvation Army Hut at camp! It brought the tears into his throat in a great lump. He lurched after his friend, and dropped into the chair where he was pushed, sliding his arms out on the table before him and dropping his head quickly to hide his emotion. He couldn't think what was the matter with him. He seemed to be all giving way.
"He's all in!" he heard the voice of his friend, "I thought maybe you could do something for him. He's a good old sport!"
Then a gentle hand touched his shoulder, lightly, like his mother's hand. It thrilled him and he lifted his bleared eyes and looked into the face of a kindly gray-haired woman.