Monsieur Duguey put his candle into lantern, shouldered a broom, and
taking blanket, led the way towards the chateau.
Want of words to express our fears and distress sealed our lips as we
picked our way into a filthy, can-strewn, bottle-littered courtyard,
towards a wing of the chateau where I had chosen to sleep.
I hardly know what we plodded through the corridor. My companion pushed
things, into heaps in one corner of the room, and when I saw him sweep
off a mattress and throw his blanket upon it, I realized that my bed was
made.
"You are not afraid, Madame?"
"No."
"Then _a demain_. I will come and help you. I fear, however, that I
must leave you in darkness, for there are no matches in the village. We
have to borrow light for our fires, and our stock of candles is nearly
gone. They are only the butts the Germans left behind!"
Exhausted I fell asleep, to be awakened with a start towards dawn by the
clatter of horses' feet on the paved court beneath my window.
Cavalry?