Chapter 7

I set to work with renewed vigor and, as on the day before, we were constantly in demand by refugees requiring treatment and attention. How well I remember a group of four, two men and two women, who staggered into the court and timidly knocked at the window. Three of them were glad to accept soup and wine, but the fourth, a middle-aged woman, sank down on the steps and buried her head in her hands.

"Why doesn't one of you men relieve her of that heavy parcel she has strapped to her shoulders?" I asked.

"She won't let us touch it. She's never put it aside a minute since we left home six days ago!"

"Is it as precious as all that?" I queried, eyeing the huge flat package which might have been the size of the double sheet of some daily paper.

"It's her son's picture. He's gone to the army and she's alone in the world."

"But why on earth is she carrying frame, glass, and all? It must be nearly killing her in this heat!"

"Madame," said the woman's friend solemnly, "she worked six months and put all her savings into that frame! Do you wonder she did not wish to leave it behind!"

I opened a side door and showed them a foot path across the hills, a short cut which carriages could not take, and was just turning the key in the lock when the telephone rang.

That was the first time since the second of August! What could it mean? Probably the arrival of wounded. I literally flew to answer the call.

I had some little difficulty recognizing Mademoiselle Mauxpoix' voice: it was trembling with emotion. She greeted me politely and then begging me not to be too alarmed, she announced that she had just received official orders to put all her telephones and telegraphic apparatus out of working order--to damage them so that repairs would be impossible.

"I have ten minutes more left," she continued. "A government motor is coming at four o'clock to take me, my employees and my books to Tours."

"But, Mademoiselle--"

She did not heed my interruption. "You cannot stay, Madame Huard! You must not! No woman is safe on their path. I know this better than you, for I have been receiving official reports for more than a month! The worst is true! For the love of heaven, go--you've still got a chance though there's hard fighting going on in the streets of Chateau Thierry! For God's sake, don't hesitate. Adieu."

She was gone! And I stood there dazed!

"Hard fighting at Chateau-Thierry! That's only seven miles from here," I counted.

Go? Go where? How? Go and abandon my post, with Yvonne still too ill to move, and all the others depending on my help? Go? By what means, when my only horse was too lame to cross the courtyard! It was far better to stay and defend one's belongings!

And then as I slowly returned through the corridors, it occurred to me that in spite of my desire to stay I might be forced out. Suppose the chateau should suddenly become the target for the German guns? Well, we could all take to the cellars, as the others had done in 1870. But--and here was the point--suppose the French took possession and gave us women but a few minutes to leave before the battle began. Then what! Here was food for reflection. I resolved to take Madame Guix and the two boys into my confidence. Four heads were better than one!

They received the news calmly, and I almost caught a glimpse of a twinkle in George's and Leon's eyes. The excitement pleased them.

If what Mademoiselle Mauxpoix had said was true, the Germans were now on their way to Villiers. It was evident that the French were putting up a stubborn resistance, but there was little hope of their stopping them before they reached our vicinity. Battle meant destruction of lives and property. Well, since we still possessed the former, it was high time to think of saving the latter. The sun was fast sinking behind the pine trees. In an hour it would be dark. What I decided to do must be done at once.

"George and Leon, bring down my two big trunks, and tell Nini to hitch the donkey to his flat cart and drive to the side door." I had resolved to save what I could of H.'s work, and going to the studio closet, I began selecting the portfolios containing mounted drawings and etchings. It was useless to think of the paintings. They were too big. The trunks were full in no time. I had no other receptacles, so reluctantly closed the but half empty cupboards, consoling myself with the thought that all this was possibly useless preparation, and praying Heaven that I had made a good choice among the portfolios in case the worst came.

The boys put the trunks onto the cart and set off in the direction of a sand quarry, where I knew we could dig in safety, and easily cause a miniature landslide, which would cover all traces of our hidden treasure. I promised to join them in an hour--the time I judged it would take them to make so large an excavation, and returning to my room, gathered my jewels and papers into a little valise, and put them beside my fur coat and my kodak. A few other trinkets and innumerable photographs were locked away in my desk, and perceiving that it would be utterly impossible to carry them with me, I wondered how on earth I might protect them. Suddenly I bethought me of a tiny silk American flag that my mother had given me years before, when as a child I left home for my first trip to Europe. I found it where I hoped, and shutting one edge of it into the drawer, I let the stripes hang downward and pinned the following inscription into its folds:

"I swear that the contents of this desk are purely personal and can be of value to no one but myself. I therefore leave it under the protection of my country's flag."

I felt very proud when I had done this and then hurried into my dressing-room where I hastily filled my suit-case with a few warm underclothes, a change of costume, and an extra pair of shoes. I had about finished and was heartily glad that this useless job was over, when on glancing out of the window I caught sight of fuzzy-haired Madame La Miche driving up the avenue in her dog cart.

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 coarse 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 circumstances.

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 shivered.

"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 passed 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!

I wrapped my shawl closer about me and sat down on the low stone wall that borders the moat, while little groups of peasants, unable to sleep, clustered together on the roadside.

Nearer and nearer drew the clanking noise and presently a whole regiment of perambulators, four abreast, swung around the corner into the moonlight.

Domptin!

Domptin, our neighboring village, one mile up the road, had caught the fever and was moving out wholesale, transporting its ill and decrepit, its children and chattels, in heaven knows how many baby carriages!

I had never seen so many in all my life. The effect was altogether comic, and Madame Guix and I could not resist laughing--much to the dismay of these poor souls who saw little amusement at being obliged to leave home scantily clad in night clothes.

They passed on, without further comment, and the last man had hardly turned the corner when a scream coming from up the road drew us to our feet, and sent us running in that direction. Almost instantly, the figure of an old white-capped peasant woman appeared in the distance. She was wringing her hands and crying aloud. When we were within ear shot, I caught the word, "Uhlans!"

"Uhlans! Where?"

"_Dans le bois de la Mazure!_" (A half-mile from Villiers.)

"How do you know?"

"Saw their helmets glittering in the moonlight!"

"What rot! They're Frenchmen--dragoons. You don't know your own countrymen when you see them! Did you approach them?"

"No."

"Then what in the name of common sense sent you flying down here to scare us like that? You've got no business spreading panic broadcast. If you don't turn around and scamper home, the way you came, I'll have you arrested. _Allez!_"

My nerves had stood the strain as long as possible. This false alarm had roused my anger and in a jiffy I could see how thousands of people had been deceived, and were now erring homeless along the roads of France!

"You can do what you like," I said, turning to the others, "but I've had enough of this for one day--I'm going to bed. Good-night, gentlemen."

"The _chatelaine_ is going to bed, the _chatelaine_ is going to bed!" "Let all go to bed," and similar phrases were echoed among the groups and presently we all separated, after many cordial _a demain_.

The clock in the village church was striking midnight when I finally retired, after calling my greyhounds and Betsy into my room, and assuring myself that they all had on their collars, and that their leashes were hanging on my bed post.

Nini, the little traitor, had evidently told Yvonne of my preparations for departure, and the two girls, whose beds were in the next room to mine, had been unable to close their eyes, for as I blew out my lamp, I could hear their childish voices repeating the rosary:

"Hail Mary full of Grace--the Lord is with Thee..."

* * * * *

I may have slept an hour. Then I can dimly remember hearing a wild yelp from my dogs, and when I found myself in the middle of my room rubbing my eyes, Yvonne was calling, "Madame! Madame!" in terrified tones. My pets were mad with excitement, and the sound of the farm bell was ringing in my ears!

"Silence!" I yelled.

Everything but the bell ceased.

Heedless of my attire, I rushed to a back window and repeated my command.

The bell stopped.

"Who are you that you dare wake us like that!" I scolded.

A boy between eighteen and nineteen let go the rope and stepped beneath the window. I could see his blond hair in the moonlight.

"Are you Madame Huard?"

"Yes."

"I've come with a message from your husband."

I grew cold as ice. Good God, what had happened?

V

In a bound I was down stairs and had opened the front door.

"Is H. wounded?" I gasped.

"No, Madame."

I breathed again.

"Where was he when you saw him?"

"On the road between Villers-Cotterets and La Ferte Milon."

"What's your message?"

The boy put his hand to his breast pocket and drew forth a slip of paper. The full moon shining on the white facade of the chateau threw such a brilliant reflection that I recognized a sheet from a sketch book, and could distinguish the following words scribbled in pencil:

"Give bearer fifty francs, then in the name of the love you bear me, evacuate now; go south, not Paris."

The last words were underscored three or four times.

"What time was it when H. gave you this?"

"Noon or thereabouts."

"How did you come? On foot?"

"No, bicycle."

"But it's after midnight!"

"I know, but I got lost and had three bad punctures."

Here were marching orders for fair, and if I intended obeying enough time had already been lost. To stay in spite of everything was to be responsible for all the young lives that looked to me, for protection. Could I promise it? No. Then go it was!

At that same moment and as though to reinforce my decision, the strange clattering noise I had observed growing nearer and nearer during the last two days broke on the night air.

"Hark!" said the boy. "_La mitrailleuse!_"

"The machine guns!" I echoed.

"_Oui, Madame._"

That sufficed. "We'll be leaving in ten minutes. Go to the kitchen. I'll send someone to look after you and we'll go together."

All this had transpired in less time than it takes to tell it. Awakened by the bell, the refugees in the stables came pouring into the courtyard. A second later, George, lantern in hand, came running towards me.

"Tell Leon to harness Cesar--then go and wake Julie and say that we are leaving in ten minutes. I expect her, and her family, with their horse, to be ready. The courtyard in ten minutes. Mind!"

On the landing I met Madame Guix already fully dressed.

"_Nous partons,_" was all I said. She understood and followed me towards Yvonne's room.

The two children, their teeth chattering, looked towards us in terror.

"Nini, put on the warmest clothes you possess and help Madame Guix to dress Yvonne. Then go to the kitchen and wait there without moving."

My own toilet was brief, and five minutes later, lamp in hand, I was pounding on all the doors of the long corridors, fearful lest some one be forgotten and locked in the house. When I reached the second floor I bethought me of the woman and her two children, and as I advanced I called, "Don't be frightened. This is merely a warning!"

The poor soul must have been dreaming, for when I touched her door she screamed, and as I opened it and held the lamp over my head, I could see the two little creatures clinging to their mother, who on her knees begged, "Take me, but spare my babies!"

I had some difficulty in reassuring her, but finally succeeded, and left her to go below to the hospital.

At the first alarm, the women who were sleeping there had fled in terror, and when assured that all were gone, for safety's sake I went up into the vestibule and standing at the foot of' the stairs, called, "All out! All out! I'm closing up and leaving!"

No one answering, I judged that my summons had been obeyed, and so hurried back to my own room to fetch jewels, kodak and pets. On my way down I opened H.'s wardrobe and grabbed several overcoats, confident that the boys would forget theirs and need them.

In the courtyard I found Julie and her family already perched on the hay-cart, where Yvonne had been hoisted and lay moaning, well covered in a blanket. Both horses were hitched and my servants waiting orders. Beside ours, other big drays were being prepared for flight, yet there was no confusion--no loud talking--no lamenting. I then told the boys to hurry to the farm yard and open all the gates so that the poultry and cows could have free access to the entire estate, which is closed in by a wall. I was thus certain that though they might feel hungry they, would not die for want of food or water during the short time I intended to be gone.

This done, I went to the kitchen where I found Nini, who had obeyed orders not to move but who had presence of mind enough to lay out bread and jam and wine for the famished youth who had brought the message.

In the lamplight I caught sight of my road maps on the refectory wall, and setting my jewel box on the table I began unpinning and carefully folding them and put them in the pocket of my motor coat. Almost at the same instant, the lamp flickered and Leon came in to say that all the dogs were found save the beagle hound and three fox terrier puppies, who, frightened by the bell and the commotion, had hidden in the hay lofts. We went out, and I called and whistled in vain--none of them appeared.

All this had taken more time than I expected. The wagons full of refugees had disappeared, and we were alone.

"_En route!_" I called, climbing into the _charette_, a big lump rising in my throat.

"_En route!_" called George.

Once again I counted our party to be sure all were there, and then slowly the heavy-laden hay-cart pulled out of the courtyard onto the high road.

The first ten steps that my horse took he limped so painfully that my heart sank in my boots.

What nonsense, this departure! The poor beast would break down and we'd have to shoot him by the wayside, and other similar cheerful thoughts fled through my brain as we jogged up the narrow village street.

In front of the town hall I halted, first of all to rest my steed, secondly to await George and Leon, who had remained behind to shut the entrance doors and bolt the gate, and finally because I was astonished to see all the windows illuminated.

I Jumped down and approaching one of the panes looked through and saw the entire municipal council seated in a semi-circle, their faces grave with anxiety. Presently the boys, accompanied by H.'s messenger, rode up on their bicycles and handed me the keys. I entered the room where Mr. Duguey, the schoolmaster and town clerk, greeted me.

"Gentlemen, I've come to give you the keys to my estate. I've received a message from my husband begging me to leave at once."

"Then make haste, Madame, while there is still time. We are just about to beat the call to arms and warn the population that those who hope to escape must leave at once. Though we have no official orders to do this we have taken it on ourselves, for we now know for certain that the Uhlans have surrounded the village and are awaiting daylight to take possession. They are probably bivouacking on the heights in your park."

Then the old peasant woman had not lied! Those were really Uhlans she had seen in the _bois de la Mazure_. Ye gods, and here I was trying to get away with a lame horse! Thank heaven, the Marne was not far! I would cross it and then await developments.

The clock in the little church struck two and an owl hooted mournfully in the belfry as silently our cortege plodded up the steep incline. When we reached the summit I could not resist turning around and casting a long affectionate glance on my lovely home-shining like a fairy palace in its setting of wonderful trees. Who could tell? I might never see it again!

George, too, must have been penetrated with the same sentiment, for he rode up close to the cart and grasping the mud guard, turned on his saddle and wistfully shaking his bead, gave vent to his feelings by the following very inelegant but extremely expressive ejaculation:

"_Quels cochons! vous chasser d'une propriete parcille!_"

A long shiver of emotion crept down my spine, and though it was but the second of September I instinctively drew the fur collar of my coat closer about my throat.

In front of me I could bear the wheels of our heavy-laden hay-cart creaking as the big farm horse plodded on. Its occupants were silent, and thanks to the moon and the lantern which hung up high behind, I could see Julie and Madame Guix nodding with sleep.