My Home In The Field of Honor | Page 7

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 thing of the past, but we wanted to see how the peasants would take it.
At Villiers as at Charly, it was the garde champetre who was charged with this solemn mission, and the old man made a most pathetic figure as he stood there with his drumsticks in his hand, his spectacles pushed back, and the perspiration rolling down his tanned and withered cheeks.
"What have you got to say?" queried one woman, who was too impatient to wait until all had assembled.
"_Bien de bon--_" was the philosophic reply, and our friend proceeded to clear his throat and make his announcement.
It was received in dead silence. Not a murmur, not a comment rose from the crowd, as the groups dispersed, and each one returned to his lodgings.
We followed suit, and I went with H. towards the servants' hall.
"Give me the keys to the wine cellar," said he. "And, Nini," he continued, addressing my youngest maid, aged ten, "Nini, lay a cloth and bring out the champagne glasses. The boys shan't go without a last joyful toast."
There were four of them; four of them