itals,
from which floated the Red Cross flag, were everywhere. The hotels were
sheltering the wounded; churches, theatres, all sorts of buildings not
commonly so used were in the hands of the doctors and the nurses. There
were few newspapers; there was neither paper on which to print them, nor
men to run the great presses or write what they usually contained. All
were gone; all except the old and the children. Hundreds of thousands of
men were still in Paris, but they were the garrison of the city, the men
who would man the forts if the Germans came.

And now, to get the news, Harry and Frank went to the places where the
bulletins were posted, becoming a part of the silent crowds that waited.
Every day they took their places in the crowds, to learn what they could
and carry the tale back to Madame Martin. She was too busy to stand
among the crowds herself; every day she was doing her part, helping in
the nursing, and helping, too, to relieve the distress among the poor.

One day the two friends turned away. They had seen the last bulletin;
for some hours there would be no more news.

"I'm afraid it's not going well, Harry," said Frank.

"No," said Henri, almost with a sob in his voice. "It looks to me, too,
as if the Germans were winning!"

"But many thought they would win, at first," said Frank. "It's not time
to be discouraged yet, Harry. At first we all believed the Belgians were
doing better than they could do--because they fought so well at Liege.
Now Namur has fallen. And the English--they are falling back."

"Ah, well, that is so," said Henri, brightening a little. "We did not
expect to fight in Belgium, we French. Wait till they try to enter
France! We will stop them--at Lille, at Maubeuge, at Valenciennes!"

"I hope so, Harry," said Frank, soberly. "But do you know what I think?
I believe we ought to go to your home at Amiens. I think you have been
waiting here on my account--because you thought my uncle was coming.
Well, I think he couldn't come. I am better off with you. And perhaps I
can help, too. I think you should go to your mother, if she is alone at
Amiens, because--"

Henri turned on him fiercely.

"Do you mean you think the Germans can get to Amiens?" he cried
furiously. "Never! Never! They will never come so far! They will be
stopped long before they get near it!"

"I think so--and I hope so," said Frank. "But if my mother were there I
should want to be there, too. I've read a great deal a