was imminently menaced by
a German bombardment, bordered on the pathetic and the ridiculous.
However, the family of the defunct did not think so, and their deceased
parent was chanted to eternity with all the rites and ceremonies that
his will had provided for.

Personally I was delighted at the idea of going to sleep to the sound of
the organ, which pierced the thick granite walls and almost drowned the
rumble of the cannon, to which we had now become so accustomed that we
had ceased to be alarmed.

"_Des soldats!_" cried someone.

In a second I was on my feet.

"Where?"

"Two-on bicycles, going into the hotel opposite."

I reached there as soon as they did. Their story was brief.

"We're the forerunners of a cavalry depot, being transferred to Rozoy
from Montmirail. It's getting too hot down there! How far is it to
Rozoy?"

I pulled out my map.

"Seventeen kilometres."

"Oh, Lord!"

And the poor fellows wiped the great beads of perspiration from their
dusty necks and faces.

"Bring up a bottle of wine. I'll stand for the drinks," called a man
from a corner of the cafe.

"What regiment do you belong to?"

"_L'Escadron du train._"

My heart leapt with expectancy.

"Do you know a man named H.?"

"No."

My disappointment was even greater than my joy.

"How many horses are you taking to Rozoy?"

"Two hundred and some."

"At what time will they pass here?"

"They're due in half an hour, if they don't get cornered by the Boches
on the way. We had a close call ourselves." And swallowing their
glasses of white wine and water, they were on their bicycles and gone,
before we could get any further details.

I had now had enough experience to know that it was high time to take to
the road if we didn't wish to be captured. Yet it seemed unfair to go
and leave some two-score innocent people praying for the soul of their
dear departed to a long drawn-out musical accompaniment. So while the
boys were harnessing I entered the sanctuary and approaching the chancel
by a side aisle, beckoned an altar boy and whispered in his ear words to
the effect that the curate would better hurry his mass and thereby give
his flock time to escape the invaders.

I said this calmly, and hoped he would follow my example in delivering
my message, but imagine if you can the effect produced by this
frightened individual, who, lifting his hands in the air, cried out in
terror, "_Vite, vite, Monsieur le Cure'! Voila'