My Home in the Field of Honor Part 11

"Yes--a pointed helmet. I was standing by the post office in Charly when a long line of motors pa.s.sed 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. And George 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 cl.u.s.tered together at the foot of the staircase, their beads c.o.c.ked on one side, awaiting a decision of their drake before undertaking to mount the marble stairway.

That same afternoon the _cour d'infirmieres_ transported 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 gra.s.s 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, Sat.u.r.day, 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 pa.s.sage 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 were _pet.i.t 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 s.n.a.t.c.hing 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 the _medicin-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 a.s.sistants, and presently Madame Guix and I found ourselves alone in the empty vestibule.

IV

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 lamentable _cortege_ extended down the hill.

What did this mean?

"Who are you?" I called to one of the men as they pa.s.sed.

"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, st.u.r.dily 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."