"Go and see if you can't find a new inner tube, and meet me at the
_Hotel du Soled d'Or_ where I will lunch, at eleven."
"But I just put in a new inner tube."
"Have you got an extra one?"
"No, but I've my emergency wheel--"
"Never mind. Another inner tube may come in handy."
"Very well, Madame."
Madame Maeberez was waiting, so I jumped in next her and we drove to the
town ball. Though the war was scarcely a week old her office was
already installed in the Hotel de Ville, and several hospitals were well
on the way towards complete organization. In a big room white-capped
women (the first I had seen of the kind) were counting bandages, linen
and underclothing, laying out huge piles for such and such a hospital.
While Madame M. was answering numerous questions which besieged her on
her entrance, her secretary took note of what was lacking in my
ambulance, promised to forward it at once by motor, and gave me an
agreement to sign.
In the meantime, someone had carried my card to the mayor who affixed
his seal, and my armlet appeared as though by magic.
Now, then, for the colonel! And we hastened away again at a moment's
notice.
As we drove through the quaint little city, my eye was attracted more
than once by a splendid bit of Louis XIV architecture. The college, the
convent, the churches and even some private residences were wonderful
examples of that exquisitely decorative period. As it was my first
visit to Soissons I regretted not having brought my kodak, but when I
spoke of this to Madame Macherez she expressed her delight at my
admiration of her native city, but was extremely glad that I had not
ventured out alone with a camera. Unknown persons with photographic
paraphernalia were suspicious these times. It was best to leave such
things at home.
Just then we were winding up a narrow street and the chauffeur was
tooting in vain, trying to persuade a half-dozen soldiers carrying bales
of bay on their backs, to make room for us to get by. With much evident
reluctance the first man drew a bit to the right, the second vociferated
something in a picturesque patois, and just as we passed the third, I
leaned forward and grabbed the driver by the collar.
"Stop, stop a minute!" I gasped.
He must have thought I was mad, and Madame M. probably imagined I had
suddenly lost my wits, when she saw me plunge out of the motor, race
towards one of the bales, tear it from the carrier's back with a
violence that nearly upset the man, and then, throwing my arms about his
neck, embrace him.
"You? Already?" gasped H., and then as we realized that we were making
a public spectacle of ourselves, the color rose to our cheeks.
A hasty explanation followed, in which I told my plans.
"And you, what on earth are you doing here?" I questioned.
"Well--just what you see. All of us from Villiers have been sent to
bring horses to the front, and a fine job it is. I wish you could see
the nags! None of them rideable!"
"But after they're delivered--what?"
"I wish I knew myself."
"And when can we meet?"
"I'm afraid that's impossible. We're off again to-night for God knows
where!"
And H. seeing that he was already far behind his companions, threw me a
hasty adieu and was gone!
The colonel was absent, but would return _tout de suite,_ and Madame
Macberez and I lost nearly an hour waiting. When he appeared, however,
he was most gracious, excused himself very politely and immediately
stamped my card. Then having all the necessary papers, I begged Madame
to drop me at the hotel, and to return to her bureau, where I knew there
was work enough for a half-dozen such as she. She did as I requested,
and we parted--she promising to visit Villiers as soon as she could
dispose of an afternoon.
I was the only woman in the hotel dining room for luncheon. The food
was good, but the service impossible, as there were some forty men,
mostly officers, very hungry, and only one decrepit waiter to do the
work. Good humor prevailed, each diner making allowances, and here for
the first time I heard that expression, destined to become so popular as
an excuse for almost anything: _Cest la guerre!_
My chauffeur kept me waiting, but my friend the alderman was on time.
Finally the motor made its appearance. Something had happened on
leaving St. Paul in the morning and the poor _hotelier_ had searched the
entire city for a mechanic, but to no avail. All were _au service de
l'armee_. Finally he had had to patch up things as best he could. As
to an extra inner tube--such a thing didn't exist. We would have to take
our chances with the wheel he had.
We started, but hadn't gone two hundred yards when a back tire blew off!
Well, thank goodness, we hadn't left town. So I returned to the hotel,
and while Huberson and the alderman were fixing up damages and adjusting
the emergency wheel, I had time to read all the back numbers of
_Illustration,_ which the _Soled d'Or_ possessed, and commence a
conversation with the proprietress, who sat in the court shelling peas
for dinner. She was certain that the war would be over in three months
at the utmost!
At length I went out to see if I couldn't be of some assistance in the
motor business, but Huberson said it would be ready in a few moments. As
far as I could make out, my alderman friend was mostly a decorative
personality, for he stood there with his hat on the back of his head,
gesticulating vehemently, but never deigning to help my chauffeur in the
slightest manner. When I asked him if he knew Soissons well and
inquired if he could direct me to certain grocers where I could perhaps
obtain a few provisions, he insisted on showing me the shops, with an
alacrity which proved his incompetence at motor repairing.
During that short promenade on foot, we encountered the whole Ninth
Territorial Regiment--not under arms but _au repos_. The men were
seated in front of the barracks reading the papers or idly smoking their
pipes, and all yearning for "something to do." Their wish, I fear, has
been more than satisfied.
Start number two proved successful and we sped along very comfortably
until we hit that long cobbled road. The day was exceedingly warm, the
stones sun-baked, and after the first mile or so I saw Huberson looking
nervously at his fore wheel. His anxiety was well founded, for half a
minute later, whizz!--I could feel the rubber splitting!
We stopped and all climbed out.
"It's all up!" he exclaimed. "Not one--but two tires are burst, and the
shoe of the emergency wheel is flapping like an old dirty rag!"
"Now, in my time--" began the alderman.
"Never mind about your time, old man. If you want to get back to Oulchy
and that mowing machine before Christmas, you've got to pitch in and
help," cut in Huberson, whose nerves could no longer stand the strain.
Our friend took the hint and began stripping off his coat. We were
eight miles from Soissons, on the upgrade of a cobbled road, full in the
sun. It was three P. M. on a stifling August day!
The men must have spent an hour trying to make impossible repairs--they
knew it was no use walking back to Soissons where aid had already been
refused, and it was evident from the condition of the tubes that there
was no hope of mending them.
What to do?
"I'll tell you," said I (and I must admit that I spoke for the sake of
saying something), "I'll tell you! Suppose you take out the inner tubes
and stuff the shoes with grass!"
The men looked at me as if I had suddenly gone out of my mind. Their
contempt was so apparent that it wilted me.
"Yes--I'm serious."
And then arose a series of protestations which common sense bade me
heed, but which didn't advance our cause in the slightest. When we had
lost a full half-hour more arguing the question, I once again
proclaimed my original idea.
The driver glanced at me in despair and shrugged his shoulders. "The
least we can do is try."
So saying, we fell to work tearing up grass and weeds. And that is how
I came to ride over thirty miles on three grass-stuffed tires, which,
thanks to the heat, towards the end of the journey began sending forth
little jets of green liquid much to the astonishment of all those who
saw us pass.