CHAPTER II

Falcon tossed about in his Wolsey kit. The thin layer of straw beneath his bedding did little to protect his bones from the hardness of the floor of that old house in Albert. But it wasn't the hardness of the floor, nor the crackling of the straw, that kept him awake. He would only have two hours in bed altogether, before he would have to get up, at one o'clock, to go up to the line on that so-called reconnaissance. He lit the candle, and pulled from beneath his pillow a book on the history of tactics by a French …