Part 37

"I belong to the Red Cross. Here's my badge and my carte didentite. Don't you think you could find room for me?"

"Well, we're packing up, but we'll have to wait for our horses, which are at a farm seven miles from here. The farmer said he'd come if there was any danger."

"Well, you see there isn't or he'd be here by now."

My hostess seemed convinced and opening the door a little wider, let me pass.

"How many of you are there?"

"Fourteen."

"Good heavens! Fourteen rooms? Never!"

"I don't ask that, my good woman. If you can find a bed for me and happen to have a bay loft or covered shed, the others will be glad enough to sleep there. As to the meals, we have our own provisions and will cook outside. It's a little late to-night, however, so if you could manage to give them a cup of hot soup and an omelet when they arrive, I'd make it worth your while."

She consented to the compromise, and sent one of her daughters to prepare my room. I then dispatched George, whose bicycle bell I heard ringing in the street, to the city gate to await and conduct the remainder of our party. In the hour that elapsed before their arrival I gained in the hostess's good graces by lancing a festered finger and bandaging her small daughter's skinned knee.

When the others arrived, George, who had not been idle during his wait, told me that Jouy was almost empty of inhabitants, and that most of the people from Mery-sur-Marne, a village near Villiers, were lodging for the night on bales of hay in the school house and town hall.

Our meal over, none of us needed persuading to retire and the idea of a bed lured me early to my room.

Naturally a light sleeper, I was constantly awakened by the coming and going and the conversation of our proprietress, who kept on packing right through the night. Another time I was roused by a bell ringing up and down the street, which passed beneath my window, and a deep masculine voice that enjoined all the people from Mery to hurry to the town hall. The wagons were leaving in a quarter of an hour.

"Poor fools," thought I, and rolled over in my bed.

As it grew light, I could gee the interminable stream of refugees passing up the road, and when I had dressed and hastened to the courtyard I found the others had already kindled a fire and tea was awaiting me.

"At what time should we start, Madame?"

"Start where?"

"I haven't the slightest intention of going any farther. Haven't you all had enough of this kind of traveling?"

The reply was affirmative and unanimous!

"The noise of the cannon is hardly audible this morning, which is a very encouraging sign, I'm sure, so we'll try to make ourselves comfortable until it's safe to go home."

And leaving Julie in charge, I set off by myself, glad of a moment's solitude.

In my wanderings I found the church door open, and entering, rejoiced in the peace that reigned within. It calmed my anxiety and as I withdrew my thoughts were clearer, and the burden of my responsibility seemed lightened.

On my way to the hotel I was accosted by a woman who, with a baby in her arms, was leading a cow behind her.

"Don't you want some milk?"

"I hardly think so."

"Please take it. You see, I've only saved my baby and my cow, and I have to milk the latter twice a day. I can't carry all she gives, so I keep what's necessary and throw the rest away. It seems like such a waste."

I agreed with her, and directed her towards the hotel court. She would take no remuneration and thanking me, hastened on her way.

As I watched her go someone touched me on the arm and asked me if I would go to the town hall; there were two refugees who needed assistance. There I found a very old couple, brother and sister, the eldest aged ninety-two, the other two years younger. They were from Mery, had lodged in a private house in Jouy, and were so decrepit that they had not arisen in time to catch the wagons which bore away their fellow townsmen the night before. That had so upset the old man that he had broken down and lay moaning on the straw, while the mild little woman explained that the being left behind was not what troubled her, but it was her purse and belongings that had been carried off in the carts.

I comforted them as best I could, promising to send them hot milk and biscuits, and wondering what else I could do for them. Any way they should not starve, as long as we remained in Jouy.