Part 14 (2/2)

Madame La Miche and her husband run a big stock farm near Neuilly St.

Front, some fifteen miles from Villiers. I had often seen her at poultry and agricultural shows, where their farm products usually carried off any number of prizes. It was she who sold me my cows hardly a year since.

”You?” I said, as she drew up to the steps.

”Yes. En route--like all the others. Our entire fortune is in live stock and I'm going to try to save as much as I can. May we come in?”

Certainly--and a half-hour later one of the largest farms in France had been moved bodily into my pasture land! The whole thing was conducted in a very orderly manner by M. La Miche, who on horseback drew up the rear of this immense cavalcade composed of some two hundred white oxen, hitched two abreast, seventy or eighty horses, as many mares with young colts, and heaven knows how many cows and calves; all accompanied by the stable bands. Poor tired beasts, how greedily they drank the cool water of our spring, and how willingly the cunning little colts, whose tender hoofs had been worn to the quick by their unheard-of journey, allowed the men to tie up their feet in coa.r.s.e linen bandages with strips of old carpet for protection.

Madame La Miche had been officially evacuated at noon, so I did not hesitate to tell her what I had heard. She was not surprised, and said she intended leaving at midnight, but her animals, unaccustomed to such exercise, must have a few hours' rest.

In the kitchen I found George and Leon, who had accomplished their task sooner than I expected. Relying on their word that it was impossible to tell where they had buried the trunks, I did not go back to the sand quarry. Half a mile was a distance to be considered, under the circ.u.mstances.

While all this had been going on, Madame Guix had taken Julie into her confidence and asked her if she would follow us if we were obliged to leave. Julie is a native of Villiers, and her husband and children live in a little house near by. She had consulted her lord and they were willing to lend their big dray horse if they could all join our party.

Of course we agreed and while it was light, we decided to put some bags of oats into the bottom of our hay cart, to cover these with hay, and then all the servants could pile on, the boys taking turns at walking since Yvonne must have room to be stretched out.

How I hated all this business! Madame Guix then counted the number of persons composing our party, and sent Nini to fetch as many blankets and pillows. These, with a box containing salt, sugar, chocolate, and other dry provisions, a valise packed with a few bandages and a little medicine, were put onto a little light farm-cart to which we might harness Cesar in case of great emergency.

The two vehicles when loaded were run into an empty carriage house, whose door I locked, rather ashamed of my precautions.

Night had fallen and the incoming stream of refugees demanded our every attention. Madame Guix was occupied with two women whose physical condition was such that it was impossible to refuse them beds, come what might--and as I crossed the vestibule in search of some instruments, the shadow of a woman and two little girls came up the steps. ”Could I give them lodgings?” begged the poor soul. I looked at her--she was so frightened that it was most pathetic, and the two curly-beaded children clung to her skirts and s.h.i.+vered.

”I've never been alone before,” she explained, and her teeth fairly chattered with terror. ”I can pay, and pay well--I've thirty thousand francs in gold on me.”

”Then, for Heaven's sake, don't let anyone know it!” I said, very abruptly. ”I don't want money, but there are others who may. Be careful--a fortune like that may lead to your destruction. Hide it!”

She stared at me in amazement. Evidently the idea that dishonesty existed never occurred to her. She thanked me for the advice and hoped she had not offended me, and begged me to take pity on her.

”Did anyone see you come in here?”

She thought not.

”For if they did I fear you will have to share the common lot. I have no reason to give you preference. The others might protest.”

I stuck my head out of the doorway. When I turned around, those three helpless creatures stood clinging to one another in the big empty vestibule, making a most pitiable group.

”Go up two flights of stairs--turn to your left and follow the corridor to the end. The last door on your left opens into a room with a huge double bed. It was too big for our hospital. That's the only reason we didn't bring it down. It's at your disposal. Don't thank me.

Good-night.”

When I got a moment I went to Yvonne's room. ”Did she think she could get up a little: long enough to take some dinner? Perhaps she might put on a few clothes and make an effort to walk around her room.” Ten days in bed had made her very weak. She must try to gain a little strength.

She promised and I departed. The idea of carrying her out bodily was anything but encouraging!

At six-thirty the public distribution of soup recommenced. Who my guests were I have no idea. There were more than a hundred of them.

That was clear enough from the dishes that were left. Just as the last round had been served, George came in to say that the village was beginning to get uneasy--people from Neuilly St. Front and Lucy-le-Bocage and Essommes had already pa.s.sed down the road, and the peasants looked to the chateau for a decision!

I went out to the gate. Yes, true enough, our neighbors from Lucy (five miles distant) had joined the procession. Then there was a break, and a lull, such as had not occurred for two days, and in the silence I again recognized the same clattering sound that had caught my ear on the hill top the afternoon before. This time it was much more distinct, but was soon drowned out by the rumbling of heavy wheels on the road.

Surely this time it was artillery!

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