My Home in the Field of Honor Part 21

Wearied by this constant changing of camp, I made up my mind to go far enough in this next move to be able to really rest for a day or so.

Consulting my map, I discovered Jouyle-Chatel to be at what I judged a safe distance--nearly thirty kilometres and considerably south of Paris.

The afternoon was still young, so we would have time to make the town before dark. At any rate, I told George to accompany me and explained that he and I would ride ahead full speed, and arrange for beds and a dinner by the time the others should arrive. They were instructed not to let the dark halt them, but to come on. Secretly I hoped that this would be our last stretch and that we would be able to remain at Jouy until it was wise to start homeward.

It was an uneventful trip from Choisy to Jouy. The roads were excellent, though very undulating and the only incident that marked our journey was an intoxicated individual who jumped across our path and, putting his hand on my handle bar, demanded tearfully what I had done with his wife and children.

I declared myself innocent in the matter, which angered him considerably.

"Now I know you're a spy! Get down--" George did not give him time to finish the phrase, but with a well-measured blow, sent him sprawling in the brambled ditch and we beat a hasty retreat without looking back.

It was night by the time we reached Jouy, and at the entrance of the city I enquired for the best hotel.

"_Le Grand Turc_--but the proprietress is closing up, making ready to leave."

"What! Here? You don't mean to say the scare has reached this place, too?"

"Well, we've had so many refugees these days that the women got frightened and want to go."

George and I parted company, he to see what he could find since the best hotel was denied us, and I, undaunted, started off to try to persuade the proprietress to let us in.

After much rattling at the door handles and pounding on the shutters, an acrid female voice enjoined me to be gone.

"I'm closing up and leaving."

"Leaving? What for?"

"To escape the Germans!"

"How foolis.h.!.+ They'll never reach here. I've just come from the Marne and expected to find board and lodgings for my staff until the war is over."

That encouraged her and cracking the door, she put her head out.

"I belong to the Red Cross. Here's my badge and my _carte dident.i.te_.

Don't you think you could find room for me?"

"Well, we're packing up, but we'll have to wait for our horses, which are at a farm seven miles from here. The farmer said he'd come if there was any danger."

"Well, you see there isn't or he'd be here by now."

My hostess seemed convinced and opening the door a little wider, let me pa.s.s.

"How many of you are there?"

"Fourteen."

"Good heavens! Fourteen rooms? Never!"

"I don't ask that, my good woman. If you can find a bed for me and happen to have a bay loft or covered shed, the others will be glad enough to sleep there. As to the meals, we have our own provisions and will cook outside. It's a little late to-night, however, so if you could manage to give them a cup of hot soup and an omelet when they arrive, I'd make it worth your while."

She consented to the compromise, and sent one of her daughters to prepare my room. I then dispatched George, whose bicycle bell I heard ringing in the street, to the city gate to await and conduct the remainder of our party. In the hour that elapsed before their arrival I gained in the hostess's good graces by lancing a festered finger and bandaging her small daughter's skinned knee.

When the others arrived, George, who had not been idle during his wait, told me that Jouy was almost empty of inhabitants, and that most of the people from Mery-sur-Marne, a village near Villiers, were lodging for the night on bales of hay in the school house and town hall.

Our meal over, none of us needed persuading to retire and the idea of a bed lured me early to my room.

Naturally a light sleeper, I was constantly awakened by the coming and going and the conversation of our proprietress, who kept on packing right through the night. Another time I was roused by a bell ringing up and down the street, which pa.s.sed beneath my window, and a deep masculine voice that enjoined all the people from Mery to hurry to the town hall. The wagons were leaving in a quarter of an hour.

"Poor fools," thought I, and rolled over in my bed.

As it grew light, I could gee the interminable stream of refugees pa.s.sing up the road, and when I had dressed and hastened to the courtyard I found the others had already kindled a fire and tea was awaiting me.

"At what time should we start, Madame?"

"Start where?"

"I haven't the slightest intention of going any farther. Haven't you all had enough of this kind of traveling?"

The reply was affirmative and unanimous!

"The noise of the cannon is hardly audible this morning, which is a very encouraging sign, I'm sure, so we'll try to make ourselves comfortable until it's safe to go home."

And leaving Julie in charge, I set off by myself, glad of a moment's solitude.

In my wanderings I found the church door open, and entering, rejoiced in the peace that reigned within. It calmed my anxiety and as I withdrew my thoughts were clearer, and the burden of my responsibility seemed lightened.

On my way to the hotel I was accosted by a woman who, with a baby in her arms, was leading a cow behind her.

"Don't you want some milk?"

"I hardly think so."

"Please take it. You see, I've only saved my baby and my cow, and I have to milk the latter twice a day. I can't carry all she gives, so I keep what's necessary and throw the rest away. It seems like such a waste."

I agreed with her, and directed her towards the hotel court. She would take no remuneration and thanking me, hastened on her way.

As I watched her go someone touched me on the arm and asked me if I would go to the town hall; there were two refugees who needed a.s.sistance. There I found a very old couple, brother and sister, the eldest aged ninety-two, the other two years younger. They were from Mery, had lodged in a private house in Jouy, and were so decrepit that they had not arisen in time to catch the wagons which bore away their fellow townsmen the night before. That had so upset the old man that he had broken down and lay moaning on the straw, while the mild little woman explained that the being left behind was not what troubled her, but it was her purse and belongings that had been carried off in the carts.

I comforted them as best I could, promising to send them hot milk and biscuits, and wondering what else I could do for them. Any way they should not starve, as long as we remained in Jouy.

Luncheon was well under way when I returned to the hotel. In a pot, standing on an iron tripod in the middle of the paved court, a rabbit was gently stewing. In another, a frica.s.see of chicken smelled temptingly good. The women and girls were peeling potatoes and onions, which were to cook in the sauce and a peal of laughter went up from the merry group when a few moments later George and Emile appeared, covered with flour and dough from head to foot, and each bearing a bottle of white wine under his arm.

"What on earth have you boys been up to?"

"Behold in us the city bakers!" said George with a wave of the hand and he and his companion struck an att.i.tude which again drew forth much hilarity from the onlookers.

"It's no joke--there wasn't a baker left in the place, so we found an old fellow who said he'd show us how, and the dough is now setting. By three o'clock we'll have fresh bread, you see if we don't!"

From the window the proprietress and her daughters watched our impromptu kitchen with interest. We formed such an amusing group that, handing my kodak to Leon, I told him to catch us as I bent over to taste the sauce.

Snap went the shutter!