e. The others might protest."

I stuck my head out of the doorway. When I turned around, those three
helpless creatures stood clinging to one another in the big empty
vestibule, making a most pitiable group.

"Go up two flights of stairs--turn to your left and follow the corridor
to the end. The last door on your left opens into a room with a huge
double bed. It was too big for our hospital. That's the only reason we
didn't bring it down. It's at your disposal. Don't thank me.
Good-night."

When I got a moment I went to Yvonne's room. "Did she think she could
get up a little: long enough to take some dinner? Perhaps she might put
on a few clothes and make an effort to walk around her room." Ten days
in bed had made her very weak. She must try to gain a little strength.
She promised and I departed. The idea of carrying her out bodily was
anything but encouraging!

At six-thirty the public distribution of soup recommenced. Who my
guests were I have no idea. There were more than a hundred of them.
That was clear enough from the dishes that were left. Just as the last
round had been served, George came in to say that the village was
beginning to get uneasy--people from Neuilly St. Front and
Lucy-le-Bocage and Essommes had already passed down the road, and the
peasants looked to the chateau for a decision!

I went out to the gate. Yes, true enough, our neighbors from Lucy (five
miles distant) had joined the procession. Then there was a break, and a
lull, such as had not occurred for two days, and in the silence I again
recognized the same clattering sound that had caught my ear on the hill
top the afternoon before. This time it was much more distinct, but was
soon drowned out by the rumbling of heavy wheels on the road.

Surely this time it was artillery!

I wrapped my shawl closer about me and sat down on the low stone wall
that borders the moat, while little groups of peasants, unable to sleep,
clustered together on the roadside.

Nearer and nearer drew the clanking noise and presently a whole regiment
of perambulators, four abreast, swung around the corner into the
moonlight.

Domptin!

Domptin, our neighboring village, one mile up the road, had caught the
fever and was moving out wholesale, transporting its ill and decrepit,
its children and chattels, in heaven knows how many baby carriages!

I had never seen so many in all my life. The effect was altogether
comic, and Madame Guix and I coul