The next few days following my eventful trip to Soissons were spent
superintending the installation of my hospital. For convenience's sake
I decided to utilize the entire ground floor, first because there were
fewer and more spacious apartments, each one being large enough to hold
ten or twelve beds, thus forming a ward; second, because it would be
better to avoid carrying the wounded up a flight of stairs. The rooms
above could be used in case of emergency. All this of course
necessitated the moving of most of my furniture and _objets d'art_, as
well as the emptying of H.'s much encumbered studio--I having determined
to keep but a small apartment in the east wing for private use. It was
really a tremendous undertaking, far worse than any "spring cleaning" I
had ever experienced, especially as I was but poorly seconded by my
much-depleted domestic staff, already more than busy trying to keep the
farm going.
From the boys--George and Leon--I learned that old father Poupard had
not yet put in his appearance since his departure three days before with
his nag, and that mother Poupard had abandoned her belligerent attitude
and had resorted to tears. She could be seen three times a day, on her
return from the fields, standing by the bridge corner, wailing her
distress to any passerby who had time enough to stop and listen. Poupard
now possessed all the qualities of mankind and it was probably through
his noble soft-heartedness that some ill had befallen him. What a
misfortune, especially as the vines needed so much attention.
Sunday, the ninth, I was preparing to go to early service at Charly (our
own curate had been called to join his regiment) when on crossing the
bridge, a bicycle whisked by the victoria.
"He's coming--he's coming!" called the rider, as he passed us.
"Who?" I said, rising, as George drew up.
"Father Poupard!" called the boy. "I'm going to tell his wife!"
It was evident that the news had spread like wildfire, for looking up
the street, I could see the villagers hurrying from their cottages.
Already the hum of voices reached my ears, and anxious not to miss what
promised to be a most dramatic meeting, I told George to drive to one
side of the road and stop, and there we would await developments.
In less than a minute mother Poupard appeared. She was as good as her
word, for now that she knew her lord and master was no longer in danger,
she had cast sentiment to the winds and was actually brandishing that
"big stick!"
"Ah, the good-for-nothing old drunkard!" she vociferated as she ran.
"Just let me lay hands on him!"
Around the bend of the road came the excited peasants. They pressed so
closely about someone that until they were almost upon us I could not
distinguish who it might be. Then as mother Poupard pushed her way
through the crowd, it parted and displayed her husband; drunk, but with
pride; delirious, but with glory--proudly bearing his youngest grandson
in his arms, leading the other by the hand.
"Oh, Joseph--" gasped his astonished wife, every bit of anger gone from
her voice.
And then followed a very touching family scene in which the delinquent
was forgiven, and during which time one of the bystanders explained that
father Poupard had walked from Chateau-Thierry to Epernay, to fetch his
orphan grandchildren, and had returned on foot, carrying first one and
then the other accomplishing the hundred miles in not quite four days! A
heroic undertaking for a man over seventy!
The sun rose and set several times ere my interior arrangements were
completed and nothing extraordinary happened to break the monotony of my
new routine. On Tuesday, the eleventh, the strange buzzing of a motor
told us that an aeroplane was not far distant. Our chateau lies in the
valley between two hills, so to obtain a clear view of the horizon, I
hurried to the roof with a pair of field glasses.
Presently a tiny black speck appeared and as it grew within the scope of
my glass, it was easy to recognize the shape of a _Taube_. That was my
introduction to the enemy.
Without waiting a second I rushed to the telephone and asked central at
Charly (the telephones now belonged to the army) to pass on the message
that a German aeroplane had been sighted from the Chateau de Villiers,
and was flying due west, head on for Paris. The noise had grown louder
and louder, and when I returned to my post of observation, I found most
of the servants assembled, all craning their necks. On came the
_Taube_, and there we stood, gaping, never realizing an instant that we
were running the slightest risk. The machine passed directly over our
heads, not low enough, however, for us to distinguish its contents with
the naked eye.
"There's another!" shouted someone. And turning our backs on the enemy,
we gave our entire attention to a second speck that had suddenly risen
on the horizon.
It was four o'clock in the afternoon and the armored head of the
ever-on-coming aeroplane glittered splendidly in the golden rays of the
afternoon sun.
"_Cest un francais!_" cried George.
"_Non!_"
Allowing that an aeroplane flies at the rate of a mile a minute, one can
easily imagine that we had not long to wait before number two sped over
us. Through my glass I was able to recognize the tri-color cockade
painted underneath the plane, and when I announced this there went up a
wild shriek of joy.
At that moment a loud report in the west announced that the Germans had
begun their deadly work on undefended territory.
"That's a bomb for the railway crossing at Nanteuil, I'll bet!" said
Leon, and while I was realizing that that projectile might just as well
have been for us, the others were gesticulating and bowling
encouragement to their compatriot some few hundred yards above them, as
though he could bear every word they said:
"Go it, old man!"
"Bring down that cursed blackbird!" "_Vive la France!_" and other
similar ejaculations were drowned by the noise of the motor.
The chase was on! It was more exciting than any horserace I ever
witnessed. The Frenchman was rapidly gaining on the other, but would
they come into combat before they vanished from our horizon? That was
the question that filled us with anguish.
On, on they sped, growing smaller and smaller every second. Presently
it became impossible to distinguish them apart, but we knew that they
had come within range of each other, for the two specks rose and fell by
turns now soaring high, now dipping precipitately, seeming almost to
touch at times. Then, just as they were about to disappear, one of them
suddenly collapsed and fell. Which one, we never knew.
Towards dusk the _garde-champtre_ appeared and left orders that George
and Leon must take their turns at mounting guard. Four hours right out
of the sleep of a peasant boy especially when he is overworked, is
likely to leave him useless the next day. It provoked me a little, but
then it was duty and they must obey. The boys came on at eleven and
having decided it would be better to get in an hour or so of rest
beforehand, they retired to the hay loft. I promised to look in on them
in case they should fail to waken, and at the appointed time I put on my
sweater and went down to find, as I had expected, both youths slumbering
peacefully, blissfully unconscious of the time. Poor little chaps, it
seemed a pity to wake them, but what was to be done? Presently an idea
of replacing them myself dawned upon me: a second later it so enchanted
me that I wouldn't have had them wake for anything. The whole thing was
beginning to be terribly romantic.
Slipping quietly away, I went to my room and got my revolver, and then
going to the south front of the chateau, I softly whistled for my dogs.
Three big greyhounds, a shepherd dog and a setter responded immediately,
and just as I was about to shut the little yellow door, old Betsy, my
favorite Boston bull, came panting around the corner of the house. With
these five as bodyguard I sauntered up the road in the brilliant
moonlight, arriving in front of the town hall just as the clock was
striking eleven. I must say that my appearance and announcement rather
shocked two elderly men who had been on the watch since seven o'clock.
Monsieur Demarcq protested that such a thing as a woman mounting guard
had never been beard of, but I swiftly argued him out of that idea. What
was required of me? That I stop every passer-by and every vehicle?
Didn't he think me capable of doing so? And I pointed to my dogs and my
revolver. The weight of the argument was so evidently on my side that
they had nothing to do but to submit, and laughingly Mr. Foeter put me
in possession of a heavy old gun, three packages of cartridges, and the
lantern. Then once again they asked if I couldn't be dissuaded, to
which I jokingly replied that I would set my dogs after them and drive
them home if they didn't make haste to go there at once. That admonition
proved more efficacious than I had dared hope, and assured me that my
faithful beasts rejoiced in a ferocious reputation.
All sorts of fantastic ideas flitted through my brain as I took
possession of my post. I began, however, by setting the lantern in the
middle of the road, exactly in the center of the chain, as a warning to
any on-comer. Then by the moonlight, I proceeded to examine my gun. It
was a very primitive arm, and after carefully weighing it in my hands, I
decided to abandon all thought of stalking up and down the road with
such an implement on my shoulder. That kind of glory was not worth the
morrow's ache, so I deposited the antiquated weapon in the hallway of
the school house and resolved to rely on my Browning.
Afterwards I came out and seating myself on the bench with my back
against the wall, waited for something to happen. My dogs seemed to
have comprehended the gravity of my mission, and crouched close to my
feet, cocking their ears at the slightest sound.
Little by little the great harvest moon climbed high behind our old
Roman church, perched on the embankment opposite, bathing everything in
molten silver, and causing the tall pine-trees in the little cemetery
adjacent to cast long black shadows on the road. Down towards the
Marne, the frogs were croaking merrily somewhere in the distance a night
locust buzzed, and alarmed by the striking of midnight the owls who
nested in the belfry, fluttered out into the night and settling on the
church top, began their plaintive hooting. Still no one passed.
Such calm reigned that it was almost impossible to believe that over
there, beyond those distant hills, battle and slaughter were probably
raging.
Presently a shiver warned me that I had been seated long enough; so,
marking a hundred steps, I began to pace slowly up and down, watching
the ever-changing firmament. The first gray streaks of dawn were
beginning to lighten the east when a growl from Tiger made me face about
very abruptly. I must admit that my heart began beating abnormally, and
the hand in my pocket gripped my revolver as though it were a live
animal and likely to escape.
A second later all the dogs repeated the growl, and then I could hear
the clicking of a pair of sabots on the road. The noise approached, and
my guardians looked towards me, every muscle in their bodies straining,
waiting for the single word, "_Apporte!_"
"_Couchez!_" I hissed, and awaited developments.
The footsteps drew nearer and nearer, and in a moment the stooping
figure of an old peasant came over the brow of the hill. The gait was
too familiar to be mistaken. But what on earth was father Poupard doing
on the highroad at that hour?
When he was within speaking distance I came out from the shadow of the
wall and put the question. If he had suddenly been confronted with a
spook I do not think the old man could have been more astonished. He
stopped dead still, as though not knowing whether to turn about and run,
or to advance and take the consequences. Realizing his embarrassment, I
hastily proffered a few words of greeting, and then he chose the latter
prerogative.
"-Vous?_" he said, when at length he found his tongue. "_Vous?_"
"Yes--why not?"
"Who's with you?"
"Nobody. Why?"
He seemed more embarrassed than ever. Evidently he hadn't yet "caught
on."
"What can I do for you?" I continued.
He still hesitated, looking first at me and then at a bottle he carried
in his hand. Finally he resolved to make a clean breast of it.
"Why," he said, "I didn't expect to find a woman here, least of all _une
chatelaine_. It rather startled me! You see, I've got into the habit
of coming round towards dawn. The boys begin to get chilly about that
time, and are glad enough to have a go at my fruit brandy. They say I'm
too old to mount guard, so I must serve my country as best I can. Will
you have some--my own brew?"