"I beg pardon for the liberty I'm taking,"' he said, "but might I ask where you're bound?"
"Soissons."
"You would be rendering a great service to the municipality if you would allow me to ride with you in the empty seat. You see, the youngsters who are left to reap the crops have broken the only machine in the community, and we can't go on harvesting until it is repaired or replaced. There are no mechanics left, and moreover, no horses that could take us to Soissons to find one, so I've offered to go on foot—but that means at least two full days lost before we can continue our work."
"Get in at once," I said, and we rolled off.
It was not long before I had drawn his history from this village alderman, an Alsatian by birth, and his tales of the war of 1870 helped to wile away the time we were obliged to spend idling along the roadside while our chauffeur repaired our first puncture. The emergency wheel clapped on, we were soon en route again. My companion duly uncovered as we passed the monument to the soldiers of the Franco-Prussian War, almost hidden in a lovely chestnut grove, in the heart of the forest of Hartennes.
On the outskirts of Soissons we came upon a squadron of the Ninth Territorial Regiment, resting after the morning exercises. These soldiers much resembled the "bushy-bearded" creatures whom I had seen guarding the Eastern Railway, save that they were even more picturesque, for most of them wore straw sombreros. As we passed the captain on his horse, my companion lifted his hat and the officer replied with a salute.
"A friend of yours?" I ventured.
"No. Never saw him before."
"But you bowed, I thought."
"Certainly. He's an officer on duty in time of war, and all civilians owe him that courtesy."
I liked that and fancied it were old-time urbanity, though often since I have seen it proved that the custom is not obsolete.
A little further on we came to a very jolly squadron, the cooks, who were peeling fresh vegetables and pouring them into immense wash-boilers, which, when filled, two privates seized by the handles and carried towards a big barracks some hundred yards distant.
Presently we hit a cobbled road which must have been a joy to all heavy machines, but which nearly jolted us out of our light vehicle. Patience and good humor were very rapidly disappearing when we rounded a curve, struck the good macadam, and I saw the twin spires of St. Jean rising majestically against the clear blue summer sky.
At our right I noticed the entrance gate to a chateau over which hung a big Red Cross, such as I coveted for my home, and then in a moment we were already in afaubourgof Soissons. It was not unlike the entrance to any other provincial city in ordinary times, save that there were many red-trousered men mixed in with the other population. There were no chains across the road, but four soldiers in uniform mounted guard. We showedpatte blancheand proceeded to ask for the Red Cross headquarters.
"Madame Macherez is the president. You must go to her. Cross the city and go out east towards St. Paul. Her chateau is there."
Naturally we headed straight for our destination, but were stopped every other minute by police who side-tracked us into back streets. The big thoroughfares must be kept clear for the army!
I set down my old friend near the town hall, and told him that I should be returning about noon. If he were ready, I would be glad to give him a lift. Would he meet us in front of theHotel du Soleil d'Or?
He was delighted, and promised to be on time.
We crossed the Aisne; I must say rather heedlessly, little dreaming that in so short a time it would be the object of such desperate and bloody disputes—nor so historically famous.
The Chateau de St. Paul sits, or rather, sat back from the road, surrounded by its lovely garden and a high wall. I left my motor and entered the grounds, preceded by a servant who had opened the gate. In a small drawing room I presented myself to a very charming young person already installed behind a desk, though it was scarcely half-past eight, and explained the object of my visit.
"Madame Macherez will be delighted. I'm her secretary, and I can assure you she will do all she can to further your plans. Would you mind waiting just a few moments? She'll be down presently. You see," she continued, "we have been up all night. We suddenly had part of a regiment quartered on us, and the officers who slept here were coming and going most of the time. I beg you will excuse the dust, but they haven't been gone long enough for us to make things tidy. There were twenty here, and two hundred men in the outbuildings which makes quite aremue menage."
Just then the president of theAssociation des Dames Franpaisescame in.
Madame Macherez, a fine looking, elderly woman with iron-gray hair and clear blue eyes, is the widow of former Senator Macherez. Her keen understanding and wonderful business ability have won her the respect and esteem of two entire nations; both friend and enemy are united in their praises of this wonderful person.
I was not long in explaining my intentions—I could supply sixty beds, with room for the double; would take all the management of a hospital, gladly help with the nursing, but must have a doctor and other professional aid.
Madame Macherez accepted my proposition, knew just the person I needed, and taking off her badge pinned it on to the lapel of my coat and made me a member of her society.
"Now, then, let's get through with the formalities at once. Here is yourcarte d'identite. You must paste your photo on to it. With that and an armlet stamped from the War Department you will have free access to all the roads and you won't have to be bothered with other papers. Let us go at once to the city hall, where they will stamp their seal on your card, which makes it valid for your identity. From there we must hunt out the colonel in command and get his seal. That makes it valid with military authorities."
The president's motor was waiting outside the door.
"How long shall we be?"
"Ah, an hour at least."
I turned to my chauffeur who was tampering with his punctured tire.
"Go and see if you can't find a new inner tube, and meet me at theHotel du Soled d'Orwhere I will lunch, at eleven."
"But I just put in a new inner tube."
"Have you got an extra one?"
"No, but I've my emergency wheel—"
"Never mind. Another inner tube may come in handy."
"Very well, Madame."
Madame Maeberez was waiting, so I jumped in next her and we drove to the town ball. Though the war was scarcely a week old her office was already installed in the Hotel de Ville, and several hospitals were well on the way towards complete organization. In a big room white-capped women (the first I had seen of the kind) were counting bandages, linen and underclothing, laying out huge piles for such and such a hospital.
While Madame M. was answering numerous questions which besieged her on her entrance, her secretary took note of what was lacking in my ambulance, promised to forward it at once by motor, and gave me an agreement to sign.
In the meantime, someone had carried my card to the mayor who affixed his seal, and my armlet appeared as though by magic.
Now, then, for the colonel! And we hastened away again at a moment's notice.
As we drove through the quaint little city, my eye was attracted more than once by a splendid bit of Louis XIV architecture. The college, the convent, the churches and even some private residences were wonderful examples of that exquisitely decorative period. As it was my first visit to Soissons I regretted not having brought my kodak, but when I spoke of this to Madame Macherez she expressed her delight at my admiration of her native city, but was extremely glad that I had not ventured out alone with a camera. Unknown persons with photographic paraphernalia were suspicious these times. It was best to leave such things at home.
Just then we were winding up a narrow street and the chauffeur was tooting in vain, trying to persuade a half-dozen soldiers carrying bales of bay on their backs, to make room for us to get by. With much evident reluctance the first man drew a bit to the right, the second vociferated something in a picturesque patois, and just as we passed the third, I leaned forward and grabbed the driver by the collar.
"Stop, stop a minute!" I gasped.
He must have thought I was mad, and Madame M. probably imagined I had suddenly lost my wits, when she saw me plunge out of the motor, race towards one of the bales, tear it from the carrier's back with a violence that nearly upset the man, and then, throwing my arms about his neck, embrace him.
"You? Already?" gasped H., and then as we realized that we were making a public spectacle of ourselves, the color rose to our cheeks.
A hasty explanation followed, in which I told my plans.
"And you, what on earth are you doing here?" I questioned.
"Well—just what you see. All of us from Villiers have been sent to bring horses to the front, and a fine job it is. I wish you could see the nags! None of them rideable!"
"But after they're delivered—what?"
"I wish I knew myself."
"And when can we meet?"
"I'm afraid that's impossible. We're off again to-night for God knows where!"
And H. seeing that he was already far behind his companions, threw me a hasty adieu and was gone!
The colonel was absent, but would returntout de suite,and Madame Macberez and I lost nearly an hour waiting. When he appeared, however, he was most gracious, excused himself very politely and immediately stamped my card. Then having all the necessary papers, I begged Madame to drop me at the hotel, and to return to her bureau, where I knew there was work enough for a half-dozen such as she. She did as I requested, and we parted—she promising to visit Villiers as soon as she could dispose of an afternoon.
I was the only woman in the hotel dining room for luncheon. The food was good, but the service impossible, as there were some forty men, mostly officers, very hungry, and only one decrepit waiter to do the work. Good humor prevailed, each diner making allowances, and here for the first time I heard that expression, destined to become so popular as an excuse for almost anything:Cest la guerre!
My chauffeur kept me waiting, but my friend the alderman was on time. Finally the motor made its appearance. Something had happened on leaving St. Paul in the morning and the poorhotelierhad searched the entire city for a mechanic, but to no avail. All wereau service de l'armee. Finally he had had to patch up things as best he could. As to an extra inner tube—such a thing didn't exist. We would have to take our chances with the wheel he had.
We started, but hadn't gone two hundred yards when a back tire blew off!
Well, thank goodness, we hadn't left town. So I returned to the hotel, and while Huberson and the alderman were fixing up damages and adjusting the emergency wheel, I had time to read all the back numbers ofIllustration,which theSoled d'Orpossessed, and commence a conversation with the proprietress, who sat in the court shelling peas for dinner. She was certain that the war would be over in three months at the utmost!
At length I went out to see if I couldn't be of some assistance in the motor business, but Huberson said it would be ready in a few moments. As far as I could make out, my alderman friend was mostly a decorative personality, for he stood there with his hat on the back of his head, gesticulating vehemently, but never deigning to help my chauffeur in the slightest manner. When I asked him if he knew Soissons well and inquired if he could direct me to certain grocers where I could perhaps obtain a few provisions, he insisted on showing me the shops, with an alacrity which proved his incompetence at motor repairing.
During that short promenade on foot, we encountered the whole Ninth Territorial Regiment—not under arms butau repos. The men were seated in front of the barracks reading the papers or idly smoking their pipes, and all yearning for "something to do." Their wish, I fear, has been more than satisfied.
Start number two proved successful and we sped along very comfortably until we hit that long cobbled road. The day was exceedingly warm, the stones sun-baked, and after the first mile or so I saw Huberson looking nervously at his fore wheel. His anxiety was well founded, for half a minute later, whizz!—I could feel the rubber splitting!
We stopped and all climbed out.
"It's all up!" he exclaimed. "Not one—but two tires are burst, and the shoe of the emergency wheel is flapping like an old dirty rag!"
"Now, in my time—" began the alderman.
"Never mind about your time, old man. If you want to get back to Oulchy and that mowing machine before Christmas, you've got to pitch in and help," cut in Huberson, whose nerves could no longer stand the strain. Our friend took the hint and began stripping off his coat. We were eight miles from Soissons, on the upgrade of a cobbled road, full in the sun. It was three P. M. on a stifling August day!
The men must have spent an hour trying to make impossible repairs—they knew it was no use walking back to Soissons where aid had already been refused, and it was evident from the condition of the tubes that there was no hope of mending them.
What to do?
"I'll tell you," said I (and I must admit that I spoke for the sake of saying something), "I'll tell you! Suppose you take out the inner tubes and stuff the shoes with grass!"
The men looked at me as if I had suddenly gone out of my mind. Their contempt was so apparent that it wilted me.
"Yes—I'm serious."
And then arose a series of protestations which common sense bade me heed, but which didn't advance our cause in the slightest. When we had lost a full half-hour more arguing the question, I once again proclaimed my original idea.
The driver glanced at me in despair and shrugged his shoulders. "The least we can do is try."
So saying, we fell to work tearing up grass and weeds. And that is how I came to ride over thirty miles on three grass-stuffed tires, which, thanks to the heat, towards the end of the journey began sending forth little jets of green liquid much to the astonishment of all those who saw us pass.
The next few days following my eventful trip to Soissons were spent superintending the installation of my hospital. For convenience's sake I decided to utilize the entire ground floor, first because there were fewer and more spacious apartments, each one being large enough to hold ten or twelve beds, thus forming a ward; second, because it would be better to avoid carrying the wounded up a flight of stairs. The rooms above could be used in case of emergency. All this of course necessitated the moving of most of my furniture andobjets d'art, as well as the emptying of H.'s much encumbered studio—I having determined to keep but a small apartment in the east wing for private use. It was really a tremendous undertaking, far worse than any "spring cleaning" I had ever experienced, especially as I was but poorly seconded by my much-depleted domestic staff, already more than busy trying to keep the farm going.
From the boys—George and Leon—I learned that old father Poupard had not yet put in his appearance since his departure three days before with his nag, and that mother Poupard had abandoned her belligerent attitude and had resorted to tears. She could be seen three times a day, on her return from the fields, standing by the bridge corner, wailing her distress to any passerby who had time enough to stop and listen. Poupard now possessed all the qualities of mankind and it was probably through his noble soft-heartedness that some ill had befallen him. What a misfortune, especially as the vines needed so much attention.
Sunday, the ninth, I was preparing to go to early service at Charly (our own curate had been called to join his regiment) when on crossing the bridge, a bicycle whisked by the victoria.
"He's coming—he's coming!" called the rider, as he passed us.
"Who?" I said, rising, as George drew up.
"Father Poupard!" called the boy. "I'm going to tell his wife!"
It was evident that the news had spread like wildfire, for looking up the street, I could see the villagers hurrying from their cottages. Already the hum of voices reached my ears, and anxious not to miss what promised to be a most dramatic meeting, I told George to drive to one side of the road and stop, and there we would await developments.
In less than a minute mother Poupard appeared. She was as good as her word, for now that she knew her lord and master was no longer in danger, she had cast sentiment to the winds and was actually brandishing that "big stick!"
"Ah, the good-for-nothing old drunkard!" she vociferated as she ran."Just let me lay hands on him!"
Around the bend of the road came the excited peasants. They pressed so closely about someone that until they were almost upon us I could not distinguish who it might be. Then as mother Poupard pushed her way through the crowd, it parted and displayed her husband; drunk, but with pride; delirious, but with glory—proudly bearing his youngest grandson in his arms, leading the other by the hand.
"Oh, Joseph—" gasped his astonished wife, every bit of anger gone from her voice.
And then followed a very touching family scene in which the delinquent was forgiven, and during which time one of the bystanders explained that father Poupard had walked from Chateau-Thierry to Epernay, to fetch his orphan grandchildren, and had returned on foot, carrying first one and then the other accomplishing the hundred miles in not quite four days! A heroic undertaking for a man over seventy!
The sun rose and set several times ere my interior arrangements were completed and nothing extraordinary happened to break the monotony of my new routine. On Tuesday, the eleventh, the strange buzzing of a motor told us that an aeroplane was not far distant. Our chateau lies in the valley between two hills, so to obtain a clear view of the horizon, I hurried to the roof with a pair of field glasses.
Presently a tiny black speck appeared and as it grew within the scope of my glass, it was easy to recognize the shape of aTaube. That was my introduction to the enemy.
Without waiting a second I rushed to the telephone and asked central at Charly (the telephones now belonged to the army) to pass on the message that a German aeroplane had been sighted from the Chateau de Villiers, and was flying due west, head on for Paris. The noise had grown louder and louder, and when I returned to my post of observation, I found most of the servants assembled, all craning their necks. On came theTaube, and there we stood, gaping, never realizing an instant that we were running the slightest risk. The machine passed directly over our heads, not low enough, however, for us to distinguish its contents with the naked eye.
"There's another!" shouted someone. And turning our backs on the enemy, we gave our entire attention to a second speck that had suddenly risen on the horizon.
It was four o'clock in the afternoon and the armored head of the ever-on-coming aeroplane glittered splendidly in the golden rays of the afternoon sun.
"Cest un francais!" cried George.
"Non!"
Allowing that an aeroplane flies at the rate of a mile a minute, one can easily imagine that we had not long to wait before number two sped over us. Through my glass I was able to recognize the tri-color cockade painted underneath the plane, and when I announced this there went up a wild shriek of joy.
At that moment a loud report in the west announced that the Germans had begun their deadly work on undefended territory.
"That's a bomb for the railway crossing at Nanteuil, I'll bet!" said Leon, and while I was realizing that that projectile might just as well have been for us, the others were gesticulating and bowling encouragement to their compatriot some few hundred yards above them, as though he could bear every word they said:
"Go it, old man!"
"Bring down that cursed blackbird!" "Vive la France!" and other similar ejaculations were drowned by the noise of the motor.
The chase was on! It was more exciting than any horserace I ever witnessed. The Frenchman was rapidly gaining on the other, but would they come into combat before they vanished from our horizon? That was the question that filled us with anguish.
On, on they sped, growing smaller and smaller every second. Presently it became impossible to distinguish them apart, but we knew that they had come within range of each other, for the two specks rose and fell by turns now soaring high, now dipping precipitately, seeming almost to touch at times. Then, just as they were about to disappear, one of them suddenly collapsed and fell. Which one, we never knew.
Towards dusk thegarde-champtreappeared and left orders that George and Leon must take their turns at mounting guard. Four hours right out of the sleep of a peasant boy especially when he is overworked, is likely to leave him useless the next day. It provoked me a little, but then it was duty and they must obey. The boys came on at eleven and having decided it would be better to get in an hour or so of rest beforehand, they retired to the hay loft. I promised to look in on them in case they should fail to waken, and at the appointed time I put on my sweater and went down to find, as I had expected, both youths slumbering peacefully, blissfully unconscious of the time. Poor little chaps, it seemed a pity to wake them, but what was to be done? Presently an idea of replacing them myself dawned upon me: a second later it so enchanted me that I wouldn't have had them wake for anything. The whole thing was beginning to be terribly romantic.
Slipping quietly away, I went to my room and got my revolver, and then going to the south front of the chateau, I softly whistled for my dogs. Three big greyhounds, a shepherd dog and a setter responded immediately, and just as I was about to shut the little yellow door, old Betsy, my favorite Boston bull, came panting around the corner of the house. With these five as bodyguard I sauntered up the road in the brilliant moonlight, arriving in front of the town hall just as the clock was striking eleven. I must say that my appearance and announcement rather shocked two elderly men who had been on the watch since seven o'clock.
Monsieur Demarcq protested that such a thing as a woman mounting guard had never been beard of, but I swiftly argued him out of that idea. What was required of me? That I stop every passer-by and every vehicle? Didn't he think me capable of doing so? And I pointed to my dogs and my revolver. The weight of the argument was so evidently on my side that they had nothing to do but to submit, and laughingly Mr. Foeter put me in possession of a heavy old gun, three packages of cartridges, and the lantern. Then once again they asked if I couldn't be dissuaded, to which I jokingly replied that I would set my dogs after them and drive them home if they didn't make haste to go there at once. That admonition proved more efficacious than I had dared hope, and assured me that my faithful beasts rejoiced in a ferocious reputation.
All sorts of fantastic ideas flitted through my brain as I took possession of my post. I began, however, by setting the lantern in the middle of the road, exactly in the center of the chain, as a warning to any on-comer. Then by the moonlight, I proceeded to examine my gun. It was a very primitive arm, and after carefully weighing it in my hands, I decided to abandon all thought of stalking up and down the road with such an implement on my shoulder. That kind of glory was not worth the morrow's ache, so I deposited the antiquated weapon in the hallway of the school house and resolved to rely on my Browning.
Afterwards I came out and seating myself on the bench with my back against the wall, waited for something to happen. My dogs seemed to have comprehended the gravity of my mission, and crouched close to my feet, cocking their ears at the slightest sound.
Little by little the great harvest moon climbed high behind our old Roman church, perched on the embankment opposite, bathing everything in molten silver, and causing the tall pine-trees in the little cemetery adjacent to cast long black shadows on the road. Down towards the Marne, the frogs were croaking merrily somewhere in the distance a night locust buzzed, and alarmed by the striking of midnight the owls who nested in the belfry, fluttered out into the night and settling on the church top, began their plaintive hooting. Still no one passed.
Such calm reigned that it was almost impossible to believe that over there, beyond those distant hills, battle and slaughter were probably raging.
Presently a shiver warned me that I had been seated long enough; so, marking a hundred steps, I began to pace slowly up and down, watching the ever-changing firmament. The first gray streaks of dawn were beginning to lighten the east when a growl from Tiger made me face about very abruptly. I must admit that my heart began beating abnormally, and the hand in my pocket gripped my revolver as though it were a live animal and likely to escape.
A second later all the dogs repeated the growl, and then I could hear the clicking of a pair of sabots on the road. The noise approached, and my guardians looked towards me, every muscle in their bodies straining, waiting for the single word, "Apporte!"
"Couchez!" I hissed, and awaited developments.
The footsteps drew nearer and nearer, and in a moment the stooping figure of an old peasant came over the brow of the hill. The gait was too familiar to be mistaken. But what on earth was father Poupard doing on the highroad at that hour?
When he was within speaking distance I came out from the shadow of the wall and put the question. If he had suddenly been confronted with a spook I do not think the old man could have been more astonished. He stopped dead still, as though not knowing whether to turn about and run, or to advance and take the consequences. Realizing his embarrassment, I hastily proffered a few words of greeting, and then he chose the latter prerogative.
"-Vous?_" he said, when at length he found his tongue. "Vous?"
"Yes—why not?"
"Who's with you?"
"Nobody. Why?"
He seemed more embarrassed than ever. Evidently he hadn't yet "caught on."
"What can I do for you?" I continued.
He still hesitated, looking first at me and then at a bottle he carried in his hand. Finally he resolved to make a clean breast of it.
"Why," he said, "I didn't expect to find a woman here, least of allune chatelaine. It rather startled me! You see, I've got into the habit of coming round towards dawn. The boys begin to get chilly about that time, and are glad enough to have a go at my fruit brandy. They say I'm too old to mount guard, so I must serve my country as best I can. Will you have some—my own brew?"
I declined, but he was not offended; yet he seemed reluctant to go.
"Sit down," I said. "It won't belong before some of the men will be passing by on their way to the fields, and then you won't have made your journey for nothing."
Pere Potipard gladly accepted, and after a generous swig at his brandy, began telling me about what happened at Villiers during the German invasion in 1870. As he talked on, night gradually disappeared, and when the clock in the belfry tolled three A. M. my successors came to relieve me. I blew out the lantern and walked home in broad daylight.
The boys looked very sheepish when they learned what had happened, but as I did not boast of my exploit, merely taking it as a matter of course, they had no way of approaching the subject, and like many other things of the kind, it was soon forgotten in the pursuing of our onerous daily tasks, and the moral anxiety we were experiencing.
There seemed to be no end to the fruit season that summer. The lengthy table in the servants' hall was literally covered with glasses containing jam and jelly of every description, awaiting their paper lids. Nini said there were over five hundred—to me it seemed thousands, and I was heartily glad of a lull before the hospital should open. And I remember distinctly that the last thing I prepared was some thirty quarts of black currant brandy; that is to say, I had poured the raw alcohol on to the fruit and set the jars aside to await completion six months later! Shortly afterwards I received word by a roundabout route from Soissons that I might expect my trained nurses and supplies at any moment. In the meantime I was without word from H. since that eventful meeting a week before.
Saturday, the fifteenth of August, was as little like a religious fete day as one can imagine. At an early hour the winnowing machine rumbled up the road to the square beside the chateau. Under the circumstances each one must take his turn at getting in his wheat and oats, and there was no choice of day or hour. Besides, the village had already been called on to furnish grain and fodder for the army, and the harvest must be measured and declared at once. This only half concerned me, for my hay was already in the lofts before the war began, and two elderly men who had applied for work as bunchers, had been engaged for the last week in August.
After service at Charly, I walked across to the post office. The post mistress and telegraph operator, a delightful provincial maiden lady, always welcomes me most cordially, and at present I fancied she might have some news that had not yet reached Villiers. (Mind you, since the second of August we had had but two newspapers, and those obtained with what difficulty!) Thebureaunow belonged to the army, and for a fortnight Mademoiselle Maupoix and her two young girl assistants had hardly had time to sleep, so busy were they transmitting ciphered dispatches, passing on orders, etc. It was to this physical exhaustion that I attributed the swollen countenance of my little friend when she opened the door to her private sitting-room. It was evident she had something to tell, but her exquisite breeding forbade that she go headlong into her subject, before having graciously inquired for my health, my husband and news of us both since last we met.
"And the war, Mademoiselle, do you know anything about what has happened?"
Two great tears swelled to Mademoiselle's eyes, which, however, bore a triumphant expression.
"Madame—the French flag is flying over Mulhouse—but it cost fifteen thousand lives! That is official news. I cannot give you further details nor say how I obtained what I have told you."
Then the armies had met and war was now a bloody reality!
I shuddered. Here was news of a victory and all we could do was weep! Once again the sons of France had generously shed their blood to reconquer their righteous belongings!
I left Mademoiselle and rode home in silence. Should I tell the villagers? Why not? But how?
The question answered itself, for as we approached the town hall I saw the school master and a number of elderly men seated on the bench beside the chain. When we pulled up to give Cesar breathing spell, they all came clustering around the carriage. Did I know anything? Had I heard anything?
"Gentlemen," I said, with a decided huskiness in my throat, "the French flag flies over, Mulhouse, but fifteen thousand men arehors de combat!"
Joy, followed almost instantaneously by an expression of sorrow, literally transfigured all their faces. Tears sprang to the eyes of several, falling silently down their furrowed cheeks, and without uttering a word, as one man they all uncovered! The respect for the glorious dead immediately abolished any desire for boisterous triumph.
There was no necessity to add any comment, so I continued my route to the chateau.
One night towards the end of the following week, I was awakened by the banging of doors and the shattering of window panes. A violent storm had suddenly blown up and the wind was working havoc with unfastened blinds and shutters. There was no use thinking of holding a candle or a lamp. Besides, the lightning flashed so brightly that I was able to grope my way through the long line of empty rooms, tighten the fastenings, and shut the windows. I had reached the second story without mishap and without hearing the slightest footstep within doors. All my little servants were so exhausted that even the thunder had not roused them. Presently, however, the sound of the gate bell broke on my ears.
"Pooh," thought I. "Some tree or branch has fallen on the wire. Catch me getting wet going out to see what it is."
The ringing continued, but more violently. And at regular intervals. I went down to the middle window and stuck my head out. At the same moment, my dogs made one wild rush towards the gate and a woman's voice called, "Madame Huard, ouvrez, s'il vous plait!"
By the light of another flash, I could distinguish a dripping figure in white. "Bah! someone is ill or dying and wants me to telephone for a doctor!"
So I pulled the bell communicating with the servants' quarters, threw on a few warmer clothes, and went below. At the foot of the stairs I came upon George and Leon much disheveled, but wide awake.
"There is someone in distress at the gate," I hurriedly explained. "Call off the dogs and go and see who it is. I'll light up in the refectory and wait for you there."
They obeyed, and in the course of three or four minutes returned, bringing with them a much-bedraggled but smiling woman on whose coat was pinned the Red Cross medal.
"I'm the trained nurse. Madame Macherez sent me here to help with your hospital."
"Oh! I'm sure you're welcome, Madame—"
"Guix is my name. I received my orders to join you here three days ago, and communications are so bad that I've come most of the way on foot. I humbly apologize for arriving at such an hour and in such a state."
I hurried Madame Guix off to her apartment, told the boys to wake Julie and have her send us a cup of tea and some refreshments in my little drawing-room. Though it was the middle of August, the rain and dampness were so penetrating that I did not hesitate to touch a match to a brushwood fire that is always prepared in my grate. In a short time my guest reappeared and as she refreshed herself, I busily plied her with questions concerning the events of the last two weeks.
Madame Guix, a woman but little over thirty, came from Choisy-le-Roi (the city of famous Rouget de l'Isle).Merciereby trade, on the death of husband and baby she had adopted the career ofinfirmiere, and at the outbreak of the war found herself in possession of her diploma and ready to serve. She had enlisted at the big military hospital her native town had installed in the school house, and for three long weeks had sat and waited for something to do.
"Are there no wounded there?"
"Not when I left."
"Have you ever yet had occasion to nurse a soldier?"
"Yes, of course. Four days after the declaration when the Forty-ninth Territorials came through Choisy on their forced march to the front, we were suddenly filled up with cases of congestion. You see, that regiment is Composed of men mostly over forty, and what with the heat, their guns and their sacs, and unaccustomed to such a life, many of them couldn't stand the strain. My first patient was a sad little man named Bouteron.
"Bouteron? What Bouteron?"
"Marcel Bouteron."
"No!"
"Why?"
"Is he dead?"
"No."
I breathed again. Thank God! Bouteron, Bouteron, our Jolly little Bouteron, gaiety itself, who three weeks ago was the very life and soul of our last house party! Was it possible? Already "down and out!" And to think that this strange woman should bring me the news. I drew my chair nearer to Madame Guix and for two long hours we talked, as only women can.
From Choisy she had sought to exercise hermétierto better advantage by approaching the front, so had addressed herself to Madame Macherez in Soissons. From there she had been sent to me. Did she think there was any possibility of nursing wounded in our hospital? We were so far south.
She was confident that we would not be empty long. Bloody battles were being waged from Alsace throughout the entire north. Belgian territory had been violated and Liege was putting up a heroic defense.
But our doctor and the pharmaceutical products? From where and when would they arrive? Food and bedding would go a long way, but were hardly sufficient to start a hospital!
We were to count on Madame Macherez for both. She had promised to do her utmost to reach us with our supplies, but the rules of circulation on the roads were so severe that even Red Cross supply cars had to stand in line and await permits. In the meantime we must organize as best we could.
The following morning a few moments' intercourse proved to me that Madame Guix's competence extended far beyond the bounds of hermétier. She was a splendid worker, and no task was too difficult, so long as it furthered our purpose—namely, that of being ready in case of emergency.
By noon we had decided that it would be useless to count upon my servants to help in the hospital. They already had all they could do. So I went and asked our mayor if he knew of any women who,de bonne volonte, would come and assist us. Madame Guix volunteered to teach them the rudiments of bandaging between two and five on the coming afternoons, and we would establish aroulementso that the little time that each disposed of might be properly and efficiently utilized.
The drum beat and made the announcement, and at two the same afternoon we had the satisfaction of welcoming some twenty women. In the meantime every bit of old linen I possessed was brought down and put on the dining room table, then measured and torn informes rilglementairesready to be sterilized and put aside. Half a dozen bands were left out as models and it was with these that Madame Guix commenced her demonstrations. She soon put her listeners at ease, and presently all were anxious to try a hand at bandaging. The naive clumsiness of these poor souls was extremely pathetic, but such was their patriotism that they never considered themselves ridiculous for a single instant, and stood there fumbling the long linen rolls with bands that were hands more accustomed to wielding a spade or directing a plough. Again and again they would recommence certain difficult proceedings, taking turns at playing the dummy, and offering as models calves and biceps of which many an athlete might have been proud.
Of the score of women but two or three really acquired any facility, but we considered that sufficient, for in time of need the others could easily be put to work at necessary matters which were of less vital importance.
From the windows of the dining-room where thecourswas held, we could look down the driveway and see all the children of the neighborhood standing on the wall of the moat, craning their necks in the hope of catching a glimpse of what was going on in the chateau. It was evidently an interesting diversion, for every afternoon they reappeared, in spite of George's threats to send for thegendarmes. The little demons seemed to know that the gendarmes were too busy to give them any attention, and I assure you, they profited by their liberty. Little John Poupard and his five-year-old brother were the leaders of the band, and I trembled lest some day their curiosity lead to a tragic end!
Nor were my fears in vain, for one afternoon we beard a shriek and a splash, followed by cries of terror, and we knew for certain that some one had fallen into the moat. The embankment is not eight feet high, and at that season of the year there is more mud than water in the river, so I was certain that whoever had fallen in was in no danger of drowning—but nevertheless I hastened with the others to the spot.
George, who had also heard the noise, reached the scene of action before we did, and on our arrival we found him knee deep in the mud, preparing to hoist a little limp body on to the bank.
Johnny Poupard!
"Good heavens!" thought I. "Decidedly that family had no intention of letting the village rust for want of dramatic situations!"
"He's merely fainted; more frightened than hurt," declared Madame Guix, who had literally pounced upon him. "Now then, ladies," she said, turning towards the women who stood gaping at us, "now then, here's a splendid opportunity to distinguish yourselves."
And so little John Poupard was carried into the infirmary. As first patient you may be sure that be received every attention. Some ammonia was held under his nose. This soon brought him around and after carefully sounding all his bones, Madame Guix decided that there were no fractures. And the bandaging began!
It makes me smile when I think of it all now—for the only wounds Johnny possessed were a few scratches on his bands, knees and head, caused by his sudden contact with a patch of stinging nettles which had sprung up on the river banks.
Under ordinary circumstances, the child would probably have picked himself up and walked home, forgetting his woes an hour later. But real live models who are actually in pain, are few and far between, especially at "courses" such as ours, and the amount of professional skill that was expended on that little urchin ought to have cured six of his kind. But it all made the women so happy!
At the end of half an hour, Johnny Poupard looked more like an Egyptian mummy than a human being, so much so that when his grandmother arrived upon the scene of action, she very nearly fainted and all but became patient number two at Auxiliary Hospital No. 7!
We had some little difficulty reassuring her, but when her prodigal grandson sat up and asked for bread and jam, she forgot her anxiety and began scolding him for daring to give her such a fright, and us so much trouble.
* * * *
Towards the end of the third week in August the mobilization was considered finished and the Eastern Railroad opened again to the public; its time tables of course being limited and subject to instant change, the company refusing to be responsible for delays. To us at the chateau this meant very little, save that we would receive our mail and the daily papers more frequently. However, several friends who fancied I was unsafe alone and so far from the capital, kindly ventured to start to Villiers to try to persuade me to come up to town. It took them seven hours to reach Meaux (thirty miles from Paris); they were obliged to sleep there because it was because it was announced that their train went no further—and worse than all, they were eighteen hours getting home.
"Wheren't people furious?" I questioned, when afterwards they told me of their adventure.
"Not in the slightest. Everyone bore it patiently as part of his tribute to his country. 'The army first' was their motto."
The first batch of mail brought me any number of stale letters, which had arrived and been held in Paris over three weeks. Invitations to a house party in Belgium and things of that kind that seemed so strangely out of place now. The two most important documents, however, came, one from my cousin, Marie Huard (Superior at the Convent of the Infant Jesus at Madrid) and the other from Elizabeth Gauthier.
My cousin had taken upon herself to locate and communicate with every member of the Huard family called to arms (and they are numerous, when one considers that H. has no less than twelve married uncles!) and she enclosed me a sort of map, or family tree, indicating the names, ages, regiments, etc., of some fifty cousins, begging me to write and encourage them from time to time.
Elizabeth Gauthier's letter bore a black border—and I trembled as I opened it. She was in Paris alone, and mourning the loss of her eldest brother, killed at the battle of Mulhouse, the ninth of August. Her solitude preyed upon her, and she announced her departure for her sister's chateau in Burgundy.
That was the first real sadness that the war had brought me so far. It quite upset me, for Jean Bernard was not only a delightful friend, but one of the most promising engineers of the younger generation in France. Both family, friends and country might well deplore such a loss.
Even the making and hoisting of a huge Red Cross flag over the chateau failed to arouse my enthusiasm all that day. The blow was too cruel and had stimulated fears which heretofore had lain dormant within me.
The next day, however, I was not permitted to brood over my grief, for Yvonne (she of the poultry farm) fell ill with a severe attack of sciatica, which kept her in her bed, every movement producing a scream of agony.
Of course Madame Guix was there to lend a hand, but that hardly altered the situation, so I was obliged to ask the boys to give another "pull" and try to be equal to the work. Lleon accepted with such alacrity that for the first time it dawned on me that perhaps he had a soft spot in his heart for my pretty little goose girl, and this unsuspected romance, interwoven with the joys and anxieties of the moment, seemed all the more charming.
To cap the climax of misfortune, old Cesar had run a nail into his hoof and Madame Guix spent most of her time between injections of oxygen on the first floor, and iodine and flaxseed poultices in the stables. This of course meant that all errands outside the village must be made on bicycle, and George was "mustered into service." Towards noon on the 27th he made his first return trip from Charly, bringing the mail and the papers, and a very excited countenance.
"Madame, I've seen one!" he shouted, as I appeared in the doorway.
"Seen what?"
"Un casque a' point!"
"A what!"
"Yes—a pointed helmet. I was standing by the post office in Charly when a long line of motors passed by on the road to Paris. I recognized the Belgium uniform, and one of the soldiers leaned out and held up a German helmet! What a trophy!"
"The Belgians! What on earth are they doing down here?" thought I. AndGeorge guessed my question.
"Oh," he continued, "you see their regiment was cut in two by the Germans at Charleville and those who escaped managed to get motors and are on their way home—by a round-about route to Antrwerp via Havre. The hotel keeper said so. She offered some wine to one motor full that stopped."
If that were true it was an amazing bit of news! Then things were not going as well as the now very reticent papers led one to suppose. But it all seemed so very distant that I refused to worry.
However, I was about to seek out Madame Guix and tell her what George had reported when an amusing sight caught my eye.
From her open window, towards which she had asked that we push her bed,Yvonne amused herself by calling her ducklings.
"Bour-ree—bour-ree!"
Then from the farmyard a good two hundred yards distant, would rise the reply, "Quack! Quack! Quack!"
Big and small recognized the call of their little mistress and hastened to respond.
"Bouree-bour-ree-bouree!" called Yvonne again and again.
Evidently the ducks decided to hold a consultation and send delegates to see what on earth prevented their friend from caring for them in person since they could hear her voice. For as I looked across the lawn towards the door, imagine my surprise on catching sight of some thirty or forty Rouenese ducks of all sizes waddling up the steps and into the vestibule.
"Bour-ree, bouree!" Yvonne continued.
"Quack, quack, quack!" came the reply, and when I reached the entrance hall, I found them all clustered together at the foot of the staircase, their beads cocked on one side, awaiting a decision of their drake before undertaking to mount the marble stairway.
That same afternoon thecour d'infirmierestransported itself to the lawn in front of the chateau. It was too splendid weather to stay indoors. The demonstrations were finished and most of the women had retired, when one of those who remained lifted her finger and asked for silence. "Listen," she said, "the cannon!" She didn't need to go any further. In less than a second's time we were straining our ears towards the east!
"There!" she said, "there it goes again!"
Three of us had heard a sound which strangely resembled the popping of a cork at a very great distance. Remembering my grandmother's Indian stories, I stretched out on the grass with my ear to the ground. This time I heard the rolling so distinctly that my face must have altered, for two of the woman shuddered and took hasty leave.
In a second I guessed that they were off to tell the news—so I made light of it by declaring that it must be the trying-out of some heavy artillery at Chalons; but when Madame Guix and I found ourselves alone, we looked at each other with interrogation points in our eyes.
We thought of our hospital, of our supplies, of our perfect uselessness unless Soissons could yet reach us—and I resolved to go down to the druggist at Charly and see what could be done. The following morning, Saturday, the twenty-ninth—I betook myself to Charly and there managed to beg the elements of a rudimentary infirmary from the old pharmacist, who must have thought me crazy. Absorbent cotton I was able to procure in small rolled packages from the draper, and promising to send the boys down in the afternoon with a small band cart, I returned home, without having observed anything abnormal save the frequent passage of autos towards Paris—all going top speed and loaded with the queerest occupants and baggage.
On my return great excitement reigned around our gate, for a private automobile containing wounded had halted on seeing our Red Cross flag, and Madame Guix welcomed them in.
They werepetit blesses, all able to travel, probably suffering more from heat and privation than from their wounds. They had no orders to stop, but hoped we would let them rest a bit before going further—and could we give them something to eat?
All this was very fortunate considering our precarious situation and we gladly did the best we knew how. There were six poor chaps belonging to different regiments, but all so tired that it seemed cruel to prevent their snatching a rest by plying them with questions. We could do that later on.
The lads were hardly stretched out when another motor drew up before the gate. This one contained besides three privates a young officer with his arm in a sling, and he asked if we could give them water. Leon told them that they would be very welcome if they would care to come in and rest—there were already a half-dozen wounded asleep in the house. At these words the lieutenant jumped down and asked for themedicin-chef. He was rather startled when I appeared, and told him that there was no military authority as yet installed at the chateau.
"Then I must take all the responsibility of the men," he said very kindly but firmly. "I'm sorry, but they cannot remain here. I must deliver them safe at some big center outside the zone of operations."
The time had come for questions—and I learned with amazement that Liege had fallen, Belgium was invaded, and that hard fighting was going on at St. Quentin, but eighty miles away. "The cannon of yesterday was no target practice," thought I. The men all seemed so hopeful, though, that we never felt a qualm.
"As you will, Monsieur," I said, and the weary boys were wakened and hurried off before we had time to ask names, addresses or any further details.
All this had transpired so rapidly that we had had no time to call in our assistants, and presently Madame Guix and I found ourselves alone in the empty vestibule.
Nothing further happened that afternoon. Madame Guix's course went on as usual, with perhaps a little more animation in the conversation, and much speculation as to when and where those who had stopped at the chateau had been wounded. No one really knew. To tell the truth, though later Madame Guix and I had asked them, the soldiers themselves had but a very indistinct idea of time and date or whereabouts.
That night I was awakened by the low rumbling of heavy carts on the road in front of the chateau. Fancying that perhaps it was artillery on its way to the front, I put on my dressing gown and went as far as the gate. There in the pale moonlight I beheld a long stream of carriages and wagons of every description piled high with household goods, and filled with women and children. The men walked beside the horses to prevent collision, for as far as eye could see, the lamentablecortegeextended down the hill.
What did this mean?
"Who are you?" I called to one of the men as they passed.
"Belgians—refugees."
Refugees! My mind flew back to descriptions of the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror, when so many people fled for their lives! What nonsense! Were we not in the twentieth century? Wasn't there a Peace Palace at The Hague? My thoughts became muddled.
Opening the gate, I went out and accosted another man.
"Won't you come in and rest?"
"No, we can't. We must make our twenty miles by dawn—and rest during the heat of the day."
"But why do you leave home?"
"Because the savages burned us out!"
Bah, the man must be dreaming!
I turned back and addressed myself to another:
"What's your hurry?" I queried
"They're on our heels!" came the reply.
Surely this one was madder than the other!
A third did not deign to reply, sturdily marching on ahead, his eyes fixed on the road in front of him.
On top of a farm cart half filled with bay I saw the prostrate form of a woman with two others kneeling beside her ministering to her wants. In the trap that followed was the most sorrowful group of old men and middle-aged women I ever hope to see. All were sobbing. Besides them rode two big boys on bicycles. I stopped one of these.
"What's the matter with her?" I questioned, pointing to the woman on the cart.
"She's crazy."
"?"
"Yes, lost her mind."
"How, when, where?"
"Two days ago, when we left X. (Try as I may, I cannot recall the name of the little Belgian town be mentioned.) She was ill in bed with a fever when the Germans set fire to the place—barely giving us time to hoist her into the cart. Her husband lingered behind to scrape a few belongings together. In spite of our efforts, she would stand up on the cart, and suddenly we heard an explosion and she saw her house burst into flame. She fainted. Outside in the woods we waited an hour, but her husband never came. Perhaps it's just as well, for when she woke up her mind was a blank!"
Ye gods! I rubbed my eyes. It couldn't be possible that all this was true! I was asleep! It was merely a horrible nightmare. But no—the carts rolled on in the pale moonlight carrying their heavy burdens of human misery.
It was more than I could stand. All thought of sleep had vanished, so I went and woke Madame Guix. We dressed and descended to the kitchen, where with a few smoldering embers, we soon managed to light a good fire. Water was set to boil and in half an hour's time we carried out to the bridge two huge pails of hot coffee, a pail of cold water, and one of wine. No one refused our offerings, and the hearty "God bless you's" of those kindly souls brought tears to our eyes more than once.
Dawn, Monday, August 31st, found us still at our posts. I rang the farm bell, assembled my servants, and told them we would abandon all but the most necessary farm work and minister to the wants of the refugees. By eight o'clock they had peeled and prepared vegetables enough to fill two huge copper pots, and the soup was set to boil. And still the long line of heavy vehicles followed one another down the road: moving vans, delivery wagons, huge drays, and even little three-wheeled carts drawn by dogs, rolled on towards the south.
When asked where they were going, most of the people replied, "Straight ahead of us,a' la grace de Dieu."
By the morning the heat had grown intolerable and a splendid looking man got down from a cart and came towards me. Might he turn his party into the drive and rest a bit in the shade?
I was only too willing, and gladly offered hot soup and stewed fruit to any who would accept.
Two long heavy drays each drawn by a pair of the handsomest big bay horses with creamy manes that I have ever seen, pulled up in the courtyard. Impromptu seats had been arranged in the wagons and from these climbed down some twenty or thirty old women, children and men, worn out by the fatigue, anxiety, and want of sleep. My heart went out to them, and in a generous moment I was about to offer them my beds so they could get a good rest before starting off again, but on second thought it dawned on me that I must keep them for the army! What a pretty thing it would be if another auto full of wounded suddenly appeared and found all my wards occupied!
I explained my position. They grasped it at once. It was too good of me. They were all well and needed no beds—would I let them sleep in the bay for a few hours?
But better still, I suggested, if the boys would carry a dozen or so extra mattresses I possessed into the harness room, the women might lie there, and the men could take to the hay.
They had food, plenty of it, bought on the way from village dealers who had not yet been seized with panic and shut up shop. So I told them that instead of building individual fires they might cook their noonday meal on my huge range. They might also use my kitchen utensils and china if they would wash up, and thus save unpacking their own. Apparently this was unheard of generosity and I cannot tell you how many times that morning my soul was recommended to the tender protection of the Blessed Virgin.
While the women prepared the meal, George had taken the men to the wash-house, where soap and water worked miracles on their dusty faces; one by one all the members of the group disappeared in that direction and when they gathered around the long table in the refectory, it was altogether a different company to that of an hour before.
As they sat down it came over me that none of us had eaten since the night before, and dropping onto a chair, I suddenly realized that I was tired. Berthe and Nini, however, wanted to know where I would lunch, and were rather startled when I informed them to lay a cloth on the kitchen table and to bring out all the cold meat, cheese, bread, butter and jam in the larder. It would be a stand-up picnic lunch for everyone to-day, and what was more, it was very likely to be picnic dinner; so Julie was ordered to put two chickens to roast and some potatoes to boil—both needed but little attention and would always be ready when we might need them.
The meal passed in silence in both rooms, and the "washing up" was done in no time. Then as they all retired to take their naps, the man who had first asked me if they might turn into the chateau, and who seemed to be the leader of the party, came into the kitchen and, hat in hand, begged a word or so with me.
He had come not only to express the gratitude of his compatriots, but also his astonishment that I should welcome strangers so cordially. I tried to side-track the conversation which was very embarrassing, but he would hear none of it.
"We are not gypsies, you know, Madame." I smiled and told him that that was more than evident. "Look at our horses and our dogs!" And the good fellow proceeded to inform me that he was the keeper of a big estate that belonged to Madame Pyrme (sister of the senator of that name), situated in the little village of Hanzinell, Belgium. He even offered to show his papers, but I shook my head. His open-hearted sincerity and frank countenance were sufficient.
But why had they come away? That was what interested me.
Because their country was invaded and one by one the towns and villages had been bombarded, looted and burned until little or nothing remained. Because all men under fifty were carried away as hostages or prisoners; because he had seen little children slain, and young girls tortured; because anything was better than falling helpless into the hands of such an enemy.
"Madame, at Charleroi I've seen the blood running in the gutters like rain after a storm and that not a week ago!"
It was impossible not to believe him. His eye was not that of a coward. He told his story simply; he was almost reticent, and I had even to encourage him at times to make him finish a phrase. Finally I asked him where he intended going, and why so far away. Didn't he think he was safe here?
No—jamais!Yesterday in the night they had heard the cannon growing closer and closer. They knew the sound. The Germans were advancing. It was Paris they wanted and nothing would stop them till they reached their goal.
"Except the French army," I said, with pride.
"God grant you speak the truth, Madame!" But in the meantime he seemed to consider that one was far safer in the way of some gigantic mowing-machine than on the path of the German army. He had come to tell me the truth and to warn me that I ought to make ready to leave.
"You are helpless here, Madame. Three women, three little girls, and two boys! It's tempting fate."
I couldn't seem to see it his way, however. The papers though very mysterious, had given us no cause for alarm. As yet we had not seen a single trooper. If it were true that the French were retreating we would leave when the army appeared. That would be time enough.
"Why, my good fellow," I said reassuringly, "if the Germans ever reach here Paris is doomed—and the war will be over!"
"Perhaps—"
"Besides, I can't go. I've got a hospital on my hands, though the wounded are lacking. Haven't you seen our Red Cross flag? And if that isn't sufficient, I can prove that I'm an American born. That ought to be protection enough for anyone!"
I must admit that the incredulous smile that rose to his lips rather angered me, and I sought still another excuse.
"Furthermore, one of my little maids is too ill to move, and I don't see us walking off with folded arms, and that's what would happen if I followed your advice, for the only horse the Army has left me is over twenty and so lame that he can't walk two steps. If he could I'd have had to present him for the second inspection at Chateau Thierry on Wednesday."
The poor fellow shook his head at my apparent foolhardiness, but was too polite to argue further. He said that his party would be off in an hour and asked me if I possessed a road-map that he might consult. I gladly showed him the one we had bought with H. the day of our hasty trip from Paris, since then pinned to the wall of the refectory. I noticed that he studied it very carefully, noting all the little sidetracks where he thought his drays could pass, and thus avoid following in line behind the thousands of other vehicles that encumbered the main roads.
Again he thanked me for all I had done, caressed my beautiful greyhounds, and left me his card so that we might meet when all was over. Afterwards when I went into the court, I heard someone in the stable with George, and looking in, I saw my friend of a few moments before examining my horse's hoof and telling my boy what would make the sore heal quickly. He was bound to do his best for me!
By five o'clock the stables and grounds were empty, and our friends gone. Hanzinell had joined the column which had slackened a bit during the heat of the day, but had redoubled in volume since the sun had gone behind the hills.
We had a moment's breathing space, during which we gave our entire attention to Yvonne, who was writhing with agony on her bed next my room. For three days now Madame Guix had administered mild doses of morphine, but that treatment could not continue very long. Water bags, friction and massage had proved fruitless against sciatica, so we resolved to try a warm bath, with the result that our patient was almost immediately eased but too weak to support the heat. She fainted in the tub and had to be carried back to bed. We were still working over her when Nini appeared and said I was wanted below. When Yvonne's eyelashes began to flutter, I left Madame Guix and regained the kitchen, now become the head-quarters.
More refugees! Would I let them come in? They were traveling without a map or guide and dared not venture along the roads at night.
Of course they were welcome, and the same hospitalty that had greeted the refugees from Hanzinell was offered to those from Thuilly-the whole village was there!—mayor, curate, smith and baker, all accompanied by different members of their immediate families, driven from home by the cruel invaders. Terrified by the horrors they had witnessed, exhausted by their perilous journey, they were disinclined to talk; and as for myself, I was so busy, preoccupied and thoroughly spent, that curiosity was forgotten. Here were people in need of what comforts I could offer. I gave and asked no questions.
What was most evident at present was the fact that rations were shorter among this party than among those who had stopped in the morning, and certainly not for the lack of funds. All of them had money—gold a-plenty.