reet here, my father cannot remain."

The airman nodded, went out into the street and spoke to a passing
officer. He, in turn, signalled the driver of a motor omnibus to halt.

The little bell-mistress entered the tavern, followed by two soldiers. In
a few moments they came out bearing, chair-fashion between them, the
crippled innkeeper.

The old man was much alarmed, but his daughter followed beside him to the
omnibus, in which were several lamed soldiers.

"_Et toi?_" he quavered as they lifted him in. "What of thee, Maryette?"

"I follow," she called out cheerily. "I rejoin thee--" the bus moved
on--"God knows when or where!" she added under her breath.

The airman was whispering to a fat staff officer when she rejoined him.
All three looked up in silence at the belfry of Sainte Lesse, looming
above them, a monstrous shadow athwart the stars. A moment later an
automobile, arriving from the south, drew up in front of the inn.

"_Bonne chance_," said the fat officer abruptly; he turned and waddled
swiftly away in the darkness. They saw him mount his horse. His legs stuck
out sideways.

"Now," whispered the airman, with a nod to the chauffeur.

The little bell-mistress entered the car, her wooden gloves tucked under
one arm. The airman followed with his packet and his sack of bombs. The
chauffeur started his engine.

The middle of the road was free to him; the edges were occupied by the
retreating infantry. As the car started, very slowly, cautiously feeling
its way out of Sainte Lesse, the fat staff officer turned his horse and
trotted up alongside. The car stopped, the engine still running.

"It's understood?" asked the officer in a low voice. "It's to be when we
hear 'La Brabanconne'?"

"When you hear 'La Brabanconne.'"

"Understood," said the staff officer crisply, saluted and drew bridle. And
the car moved out into the starlit night along an endless column of
retreating soldiers, who were laughing, smoking, and chatting as though
not in the least depressed by their withdrawal from the dry and cosy
trenches of Nivelle which they were abandoning.

CHAPTER XX

"LA BRABANCONNE"

No shells were falling in Nivelle as they left the car on the outskirts of
the town and entered the long main street. That was all of Nivelle, a
long, treeless main street from which branched a few alleys.

Smouldering debris of what had been houses illuminated the street. There
were no other lights. Nothing stirre