thers," she said.

He staggered before the blow.

"Not that!" he cried hoarsely.

"I'm going home," she ran on. "I'm going back to my little farm, where
I started."

"You're running away--from me?"

"I must go right off."

She looked around as if for Marie. It was as if she were about to
start that second.

"Where is Marie?" she asked dully.

She made for the door.

"Marjory," he called after her. "Don't do that!"

"I must go--right off," she said again.

"Wife o' mine," he cried, "there is no need of that."

"Marie!" she called as she reached the door. "Marie!"

Frantically she ran up the stairs.

CHAPTER XXVII

WAR

War!

A summer sky, warm and fragrant, suddenly became dour and overcast.
Within a day thunder rolled and lightning flashed. Men glanced up in
startled surprise, then clenched their jaws. Women who were laughing
gayly turned suddenly white. Orders were speeded over the wires and
through the clouds to the remotest hamlets of France. In a few hours
men began to gather in uniform, bearing rifles. They posted themselves
about the gates of stations. They increased in numbers until they were
everywhere. Trumpets sounded, drums rolled. Excited groups gathered
in the hotels and rushed off to the consulates. The very air was tense
and vibrant.

War!

People massed in groups. The individual no longer counted.
Storekeepers, bankers, dandies, chauffeurs, postmen, gardeners, hotel
proprietors became merely Frenchmen. They dropped the clothes that
distinguished their caste, and became merely men in uniform.

Foreign visitors no longer counted as individuals. They ran about in
panic-stricken groups like vagrant dogs. Those in uniform looked on
indifferently, or gave sharp orders turning strangers back from this
road or that, this gate or that. A chauffeur in uniform might turn
back his millionaire foreign master.

Credit money no longer counted. Banks refused to give out gold, and
the shopkeepers and hotel proprietors refused to accept anything but
gold. No one knew what might happen, and refused to risk. A man might
brandish a letter of credit for ten thousand francs and be refused a
glass of wine. A man with a thousand francs in gold was in a better
position than a millionaire with only paper.

Monte discovered this when he hurried to his own bankers. With half a
million dollars and more to his credit at home, he was not allowed a
single louis d'or. Somewhat