cut at its base.... I heard the gossip in
the street. Was that why you came after me?"

"Wee."

"Thank you, Djack."

She leaned a trifle forward in the cart, her dimpled elbows on her knees,
the reins sagging.

Blue and rosy jays flew up before them, fluttering away through the
thickets; a bullfinch whistled sweetly from a thorn bush, watching them
pass under him, unafraid.

"You see," she said, half to herself, "I _had_ to come. Who could refuse
our wounded? There is no bell-master in our department; and only one
bell-mistress.... To find anyone else to play the Nivelle carillon one
would have to pierce the barbarians' lines and search the ruins of
Flanders for a _Beiaardier_--a _Klokkenist_, as they call a carillonneur
in the low countries.... But the Mayor asked it, and our wounded are
waiting. You understand, _mon ami_ Djack, I had to come."

He nodded.

She added, naively:

"God watches over our trenches. We shall be quite safe in Nivelle."

A dull boom shook the sunlit air. Even in the cart they could feel the
vibration.

An hour later, everywhere ahead of them, a vast, confused thundering was
steadily increasing, deepening with every ominous reverberation.

Where two sandy wood roads crossed, a mounted gendarme halted them and
examined their papers.

"My poor child," he said to the girl, shaking his head, "the wounded at
Nivelle were taken away during the night. They are fighting there now in
the streets."

"In Nivelle streets!" faltered the girl.

"_Oui, mademoiselle._ Of the carillon little remains. The Boches have been
shelling it since daylight. Turn again. And it is better that you turn
quickly, because it is not known to us what is going on in that wooded
district over there. For if they get a foothold in Nivelle on this drive
they might cross this road before evening."

The girl sat grief-stricken and silent in the cart, staring at the woods
ahead where the road ran through taller saplings and where, here and
there, mature trees towered.

All around them now the increasing thunder rolled and echoed and shook the
ground under them. Half a dozen gendarmes came up at a gallop. Their
officer drew bridle, seized the donkey's head and turned animal and cart
southward.

"Go back," he said briefly, recognizing Burley and returning his salute.
"You may have to take your mules out of Sainte Lesse!" he added, as he
wheeled his horse. "We are getting into trouble out here, _nom de Dieu_!"

Ma