been a convent, till Dr. van der Helde commandeered it to the reception
of his cases. He led them to the hall. There down the long corridor were
seated the aged poor of Dixmude. Not one of the patient creatures was
younger than seventy. Some looked to be over eighty. White-haired men
and women, bent over, shaking from head to foot, muttering. Most of
them looked down at the floor. It seemed as if they would continue there
rooted, like some ancient lichen growth in a forest. A few of them
looked up at the visitors, with eyes in which there was little light. No
glimmer of recognition altered the expression of dim horror.

"Come," said Dr. van der Helde, firmly but kindly, "come, old man. We
are going to take you to a quiet place."

The one whom he touched and addressed shook his head and settled to the
same apathy which held the group.

"Oh, yes," said Dr. van der Helde, "you'll be all right."

He and Smith and Dr. McDonnell caught hold of the inert body and lifted
it to the car. Two old women and one more aged man they carried from
that hall-way of despair to the motor which had been left throbbing
under power.

"Will you come back?" asked Dr. van der Helde.

"As soon as we have found a place for them," replied Dr. McDonnell.

The car pulled out of the hospital yard and ran uninjured through the
town. The firing was intermittent, now. Two miles back at the
cross-roads, four army ambulances were drawn up waiting for orders.

"Come on in. The water's fine," cried Hilda to the drivers.

"_Comment?_" asked one of them.

"Why don't you go into Dixmude?" she explained. "There are twenty-six
old people in St. Jean there. We've got four of them here."

The drivers received an order of release from their commanding officer,
and streamed into the doomed town and on to the yard of the hospital. In
two hours they had emptied it of its misery.

At Oudekappele Hilda found a room in the little inn, and made the old
people comfortable. At noon, Dr. van der Helde joined her there, and
they had luncheon together out of the ample stores under the seat of the
ambulance. Up to this day, Doctor van der Helde had always been
reserved. But the brisk affair had unlocked something in his hushed
preserves.

"It is a sight for tired eyes," said the gallant doctor, "to see such
hair in these parts. You bring me a pleasure."

"I am glad you like it," returned Hilda.

"Oh, it is better than that," retorted the Doctor, "I love it. It