An old man sitting in a corner of a stack of straw told the following
story to a correspondent in Paris:
“People call me Jean Beaujon. I have a little wine shop just across the
river from Liège, in the town of Grivegnee. When the mobilization order
was announced my two sons, both fine fellows, went off to join their
regiments. My daughters--I have two, this one here and another--remained
with their old father.”
The girl he motioned to was a bright-faced girl of about 16, but only
her eyes were visible, as the rest of her face was swathed in bandages.
He continued:
“You see her poor, dear face? Well, a German was the cause of that. When
they came they demanded wine, which I gave them, and one man tried to
insult her. When she resented this he struck her and broke her jaw.
“My other daughter, becoming very tired after a time,” he went on, “sat
down by the roadside while this girl and I went on ahead to try to find
some means of conveyance. A little further on we came upon a riderless
horse, and after great difficulty we both succeeded in mounting and went
back to find my daughter. We had not been gone more than half an hour,
but when we returned she was no longer there.”