I heard the dead-march rolling from the drums, and saw them passing, black against the sunrise....

Then, filing slowly as the seconds dragged, a thousand years passed in processional during the next half hour--ending in a far rattle of musketry and a light smoke blowing east across the fields----" She passed her fingers across her brow, clearing it of the clinging curls.
"They played a noisy march--afterward.

I saw the ragged ranks wheel and manoeuvre, stepping out Briskly to the jolly drums and fifes....

I stood by the grave while the detail filled it cheerily....

Then I went back to the farm house, through the morning dew and sunshine.
"When I had opened my packet and had understood its contents, I made of my clothes a bundle and took the highway to ask of all the world where lay the road to the vale Yndaia, and where might be found the Regiment de la Reine.