eir house in the Rue Charly ran the River Vesle, which
flows through Rheims, and as the Merauts knew well a man whose business
it was to let boats to pleasure parties in summer, the children were
not surprised to see their Mother walk down the street toward the
little wharf where his boats were kept. He was waiting to receive them,
and, drawn up to the water's edge was a red and white row-boat, with
the name "The Ark" painted upon her prow. Mother Meraut smiled when she
saw the name. "If we only had the animals to go in two by two, we
should be just like Noah and his family, shouldn't we?" she said, as
she put the bundles in the stern.

In a few moments they were all seated in the boat, with their few
belongings carefully balanced, and Jacqueline safely reposing in
Pierrette's lap. The boatman pushed them away from the pier. "Au
revoir," called Mother Meraut as the boat slid into the stream. "We
will come back again when the Germans are gone, and in some way I shall
have a chance to send your boat to you, I know. Meanwhile we will take
good care of it."

"There will be few pleasure-seekers on the Vesle this summer," answered
the boat-man, "and the Ark will be safer with you than rotting at the
pier, let alone the chance of its being blown up by a shell. I'm glad
you've got her, and glad you are going away from Rheims. It will be
easy pulling, for you're going down-stream, and about all you'll have
to do is to keep her headed right. Au revoir, and good luck." He stood
on the pier looking after them and waving his hat until they were well
out in the middle of the stream.

Father Meraut had the oars, and, as his arms had not been injured, he
was able to guide the boat without fatigue, and soon the current had
carried them through the City and out into the open country which lay
beyond. Mother Meraut sat in the prow, looking back toward the
Cathedral she had so loved, until the blackened towers were hidden from
view by trees along the riverbank. They had started early in order to
be well out of Rheims before the daily bombardment should begin.

Spring was already in the air, and as they drifted along they heard the
skylarks singing in the fields. The trees were turning green, and there
were blossoms on the apple trees. The wild flowers along the riverbank
were already humming with bees, and the whole scene seemed so peaceful
and quiet after all they had endured in Rheims, that even the
shell-holes left in the fields whi