_July._--I was on the balcony about two o'clock when a car stopped
in front of the house. A sapper got out of it. I uttered a cry of
jubilation--it was Paul! He came up and threw himself into my arms. I
remained riveted to the spot, speechless and in tears.
"Oh, Mother, Mother, I did so want to see you before the great
upheaval. What luck! Well, I've seen you, and now I am ready to go when
the bugle calls."
I could not speak; I was choking. I looked at this dear, big, handsome
boy who is my only child, my whole life, whom I must give to France,
must sacrifice perhaps to the inexorable laws of war. I felt my heart
rise in revolt. I did not say anything, however, for he would have
scolded me and it would have depressed him.
* * * * *
_July._--Yesterday, when we were dining together, the telephone-bell
rang. We both ran to it. It was a call from the Maison B.
"Is F. there?"
"Yes."
"Ask him to come to the telephone at once."
I handed the receiver to my son, and saw that he was listening gravely
and attentively. Then his face lighted up; he answered, and I guessed
part of what was being said to him. I asked him:
"Is that B.?"
"Yes, Mother; he is asking me to join a squadron of the Flying Corps.
Six aeroplanes are to be taken to D.; when I get there I shall be given
a commission. You see, I can't refuse."
"Yes, but before that what did he say to you--when you looked so
serious? There is going to be war, isn't there?"
He pursed up his mouth, which is a familiar trick of his when he wishes
to hide something from me.
"My dear Mother, you think everything points to war. It is quite
possible that there will be war, in fact it's almost certain, but as
long as they are not actually on the frontier and it is not declared,
don't take such a jaundiced view of things, for goodness' sake. B. asks
me to go to Douai to make some trial flights, that's all. I gave up
flying because there were no openings for civilians, and I had met with
endless disappointments and mortifications at the hands of those who
should have helped and encouraged me. Now these same people have sent
for me; my country needs me, I'm going into the Flying Corps, and I'm
off. Cheer up! be pleased about it. I am so pleased to be going to be
a bird again! Pack up my things, because I must be at Douai by three
o'clock to-morrow. And don't worry--the English and the Russians are in
with us. What a lark!"
And I thought: Alas! a poor sort of lark.