d his Mother firmly, "the sights here are not for young
eyes. I can wait upon the nurses and keep things clean: My place is
here for the present, but tomorrow, if all goes well, we will sleep
once more in our own little home, if it is still standing. In the mean
time, be good children, and mind Madame Coudert. Now run along before
the shells begin to fall."

The Twins obediently trotted away, and regained the little shop just as
the clock struck ten. The day seemed long to them, for their thoughts
were with their parents, but Madame Coudert was so cheerful herself;
and kept them so busy they had no time to mope. Pierrette helped make
the little cakes, and Pierre scraped the remains of the icing from the
mixing-bowl and ate it lest any be wasted. In some ways Pierre was a
very thrifty boy. Then, too, Madame Coudert allowed them to stand
behind the counter and help wait upon the customers. Moreover, there
was Fifine, the cat, for Pierrette to play with, and the little
raveled-out dog lived only two doors below; so they did not lack for
entertainment.

The next evening their Mother called for them, as she had promised to
do, and they once more had supper and slept beneath their own roof. For
three days they followed this routine, going with their Mother to
Madame Coudert's, where they spent the day, returning at night. On the
fourth day they were again allowed to visit the Cathedral and to see
their Father. "It will do him good to be with his children," the doctor
had said, and so, while Mother Meraut attended to her duties, Pierre
and Pierrette sat on each side of the straw bed where he lay, proud and
responsible to be left in charge of the patient.

Pierre was bursting with curiosity to know about the Battle of the
Marne. Not another boy of his acquaintance had a wounded father, and
though his opportunities for seeing his friends had been few, he had
already done a good deal of boasting; and was pointed out by other boys
on the street as a person of special distinction. "Tell me about the
battle, Father," he begged.

His Father lifted his tired eyes to a statue of Jeanne d'Arc, which was
in plain sight from where he lay. "Well, my boy," he said after a
pause, "there is much I should not wish you to know, but this I will
tell you. On the day the battle turned, the watchword of the Army was
Jeanne d'Arc. Our soldiers sprang to the attack with her name upon
their lips, and some have sworn to me that they saw her ride be