My Home In The Field of Honor | Page 7

do. So after a quarter of an hour
uselessly spent in trying to get a carriage about our lonesome station,
we started off on foot. We had scarcely gone two hundred yards when
we caught sight of a PARISIAN taxi! H. hailed him!
"What are you doing down _here?_"
"I brought down a gentleman who was in a hurry. You see there are no
more trains out of Paris on this line since noon! And there are not likely
to be any for some time to come."
"Will you take us as far as Charly?"
"If it's on the way to Paris--yes! I'm in a hurry to get back. I've got to
join my regiment at the Gaxe du Nord before midnight, but I'd like to
ring in another job like this before that. It's worth while at 150 per trip!"
"You've got to cross Charly--there's no other way to Paris."
So we made our price and were whisked into our little market-town.
The inhabitants were on their doorsteps or chatting in little groups, and
we created quite a sensation in our Parisian vehicle. H. went to the
Gendarmerie at once to see if there was any official news by wire since
we had left town.
"You're the one who ought to bring us news, Monsieur," said the
brigadier. "What do they say in Paris?"
"The mobilization will be posted at four o'clock."
A hearty peal of laughter, that was most refreshing in the tension of the
moment, burst from all three gendarmes.
"Well, it's five minutes of four now. And if what you say is so, I should
think we'd know something about it by this time! Don't worry. It's not
so bad as you fancy--"
H. shook hands and we left. At the hotel we got the chateau on the wire
and asked for the victoria at once. As the horse had to be harnessed and
there is a two-mile drive down to Charley, we stopped a moment and
spoke to the proprietress of the hotel.
"How does it happen that your motor was not at the station?" said H.
"Oh," she replied, "our officers hired it early this morning and my

husband bad to drive them post-haste to Soissons. He hasn't got back
yet!"
Before going farther in my narrative I shall say here, lest I forget it, that
two of the supposed officers were caught within the fortnight and shot
at Meaux as German spies--the third managed to make his escape.
Hearing the carriage coming down the hill, we walked towards the
doorway. At that same moment we saw the white-trousered gendarme
hastening towards the town hall. Catching might of H., he held up the
sealed envelope he held in his band, and shouted, "You were right,
Monsieur. It has come!"
We jumped into the victoria, but as we crossed the square the
_garde-champetre_ caught the bridle and stopped our turnout.
"One moment, Monsieur."
Then the town-crier appeared, instantly causing the staggering groups
to cluster into one. He had no need to ring his bell. He merely lifted his
hand and obtained instant silence, and then slowly read out in deep,
solemn, measured tones, which I shall never forget until my dying day.
"_Extrme urgence. Ordre de mobilisation generale. Le premier jour de
la mobilization est le dimanche deux aout!_"
That was all! It was enough! The tension of those last two days was
broken. No matter what the news, it was a relief. And we drove away
'mid the rising hum of hundreds of tongues, loosened after the
agonizing suspense.
The news had not yet reached Villiers when we drove through the
village street. We turned into the chateau and found Elizabeth Gauthier,
her children and almost all the servants, grouped near the entrance ball.
They looked towards us with an appealing gaze.
As H. opened his mouth to answer, the sharp pealing of the tocsin, such
as it rings only in cases of great emergency, followed by the rolling of
the drum, told them better than we could that the worst bad come.
The servants retired in silence and still the bell rang on. Presently we
could hear the clicking of the sabots on the bard road as the peasants
hurried from the fields towards the Mairie.
I can see us all now, standing there in the brilliant afternoon
sunlight--Elizabeth murmuring between her sobs, "O God, don't take
my husband!" little Jules clinging to her skirts, amazed at her distress,
and happy, lighthearted, curly-headed baby Colette, chasing butterflies

on the lawn in front of us!

II
_August first._
The tocsin ceased, but the drum rolled on.
In a moment we had recovered from the first shock, and all went out to
the highroad to hear the declaration. To H. and me it was already a