In one corner lounging upon the ground were a dozen untidy, unshaven
men, whom I recognized by their uniforms to be Germans. One man cast an
insolent glance toward me and turned his back. Two others smiled and
pointed toward the bread they held in their hands. On some straw in a
couple of drays lay five or six individuals, their arms in slings, their
heads bandaged.
"Nothing serious," explained a sergeant. "We're waiting for our men to
clear up the tracks and the _genie_ to throw a bridge across the canal.
Then we'll evacuate them."
He was neither sad nor triumphant.
"Were you in the battle?"
"Rather!"
"How did your regiment come off?"
"We're all that are left--forty-four of us," and he pointed toward the
station where work was rapidly progressing.
From them I procured some _singe_ or army beef, and we halted an hour to
rest the horses and eat our luncheon. We were beginning to reach
familiar territory and the idea of getting home put new life into our
tired limbs, and made each moment of delay seem uselessly long.
From Lizy ours was a straight road and we made rapid progress. The
depressing signs of battle became fewer and fewer. It was evident that
the rush had been northwest, for while we encountered numerous proofs of
the armies' passage, graves and shells, trenches and corpses gradually
began to disappear. At Cocherel, however, the enemy had burned a
grocery shop when they had failed to find what they wanted. The few men
who remained had suffered much from ill treatment and passing by the
open gate of a splendid estate I cast a glance up the long avenue and
saw a sight which gave me a pang at the heart. On the green in front of
the chateau lay a battered billiard table and a grand piano, both turned
on end, and much the worse for having served as a defense against a rain
of shot. Around them were strewn broken furniture, pictures, linen and
bottles in such a sorry mess that I dared not even think what Villiers
might now look like.
Curiosity was quenched. We cast a second glance, and turned our faces
eastward.
The afternoon was well advanced when we reached Montreuil-aux-Lions, our
home country. We found that here less damage had been done from heavy
artillery, but all the edifices had suffered from close-range rifle
fire. An English sentry was pacing up and down in front of the town
hall. Over the entrance was nailed a Turkish towel on which a Red Cross
was stained with human blood!
"Prisoners?" I asked.
"All wounded, thank you," was the courteous reply.
I sought out my friend the inn-keeper who held up his hands in
astonishment, bade us enter and made us partake of a warm meal. The
first we had had since we left home!
"But how did you come to be spared?" I queried.
"Because I was good to them."
"Bah! How could you?"
"I didn't intend to, but, you see, they tricked me. It was early
morning when half a dozen officers on horseback rode up to the door.
'Where are our Allies?' they asked.
"I thought of course they were Englishmen. The uniform was unfamiliar
to me, but they all spoke perfect French. Unwittingly I gave them the
requested information, and they asked me to bring up some good wine.
Then they threw a gold piece on to the table, and when I had poured out
my Burgundy, they begged me to touch glasses with them.
"'Ah, gentlemen, it is a pleasure to offer you the best I have. Thank
God, it is not for German stomachs!'
"To my surprise, an uproarious laugh greeted my statement and brought my
glass down with a shock.
"'Poor fellow!' they tittered. 'Come, drink to our success and the
Kaiser's health!'
"I think they realized my fright and agony. They did not force me--but
laughed anew, drank and were gone."
"What regiments drove them out?"
"The English. _Quels gaillards!_ And clean! Well!"
"What do you mean?"
"Yes, they nearly used up all the water in Montreuil washing!"
"Do you know anything of Villiers?"
"No. I spent most of my time in the cellar during the fight, and since
they've been gone I'm living in terror lest they return."
"Have you seen no one from down there?"
"No, not a soul."
"Do you think Villiers was bombarded?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I know the English troops that were here
headed in that direction."
This suspense was too agonizing! I fear I so abbreviated my stay at
Montreuil that the good inn-keeper was offended. I jumped on to my
bicycle and knowing that the roads were now familiar to all, abandoned
my little party, bidding them hurry to join me at home.
On, on I sped, through the slippery mud, looking neither right nor left,
but straight ahead in the hope of recognizing a familiar face or form.
Twilight was deepening when I entered Bezu-le-Gury (our nearest home
town), which seemed to show apparently but few signs of pillaging. I
did not even dismount to make inquiries, but pedaled on till I reached
the summit of that long, long hill that leads straight down to my home.
Excitement lent a new impulse to my energy, and my heart thumped hard as
I recognized familiar cottages still standing. This raised my hopes and
sent me rocket-like down that steep incline.
Still not a soul in sight--no noise save that of the guns roaring in the
distance.
But what was that in the semi-darkness ahead of me? A dog? Could it be
true? I back-pedaled and whistled--a long, low, familiar howl greeted my
ears and brought the tears to my eyes.
And then my poor old beagle hound came trotting up the road to welcome
me--his tail wagging joyously and a long frayed cord dangling from his
collar.
This was a relief and somewhat steadied and prepared me for what was to
come. Through a gap in the trees I caught a glimpse of the roofs below.
And so I rounded the corner and started on my last hundred yards.
The broken and tangled grill of our stately gateway told of the
invaders' visit. A few paces further and the chateau come into full
view.
Yes, it was standing, but only the shell of that lovely home I had fled
from but fourteen days before.
Dropping my machine I rushed towards the entrance hall, cast one glance
through the broken panes into the vestibule, and turned away in despair.
All the willful damage that human beings could do had been wrought on
the contents of my home.
The spell was broken. My nerves relaxed and heedless of the filth I
dropped on to the steps and wept.