of her own soul that believed in the ultimate Love above
everything else. Those old illuminating smiles that had won for her her
nickname of Leerie never had to be forced, and they lighted the way out
for many a groping soul in that little church. And the old Frenchwomen,
watching above their prayers for the return of Louis or Charles or
Jacques, said:

"See, for all she's so young, she knows what the mother-heart is. That is
why she feels for us. She knows how our hearts have bled."

On the 9th of November they were still there. The division had continued
its drive, but slowly, and no orders had come for the mobile unit to go
forward. And then came one of those lulls and flush-backs which for the
moment made one almost believe that the tide of battle had turned
again--and for the enemy. With the coming of the first wounded that day
came orders to evacuate the town at once.

At first the townsfolk would not believe, but as the muddy columns of the
first company could be seen on the outskirts, doubt gave place to
certainty, and without moan they gathered up what few belongings they
could and set their faces toward what they prayed would hold French soil.
Before the refugees had cleared the town, the shelling began, giving the
last impelling haste to their exodus. The hospital unit stayed in the
church. They got the wounded ready to be moved and waited for further
orders. They came in another ten minutes; everybody was to clear out.
Three ambulances from the east and a half-dozen from the west gathered up
the stretcher cases, while the others piled into the supply-trucks--that
is, all but the chief and Sheila. They stood in the church door with
minds for anything but going. It came to them both that, as the battalions
fell back, each would be bringing its wounded as far as it could. If there
was a place to drop them--and care waiting until a few more ambulances
could push through--many lives might be saved, and much suffering.

The chief looked down at the girl and saw what was in her mind. Linking
his arm in hers, he muttered under his breath, "Still game, bless you!"
And then aloud: "Miss O'Leary and I have a liking for this place. We'll
stay until the next orders."

Griggs had climbed to the footboard of an ambulance, and he faced them
with contempt. "We didn't volunteer to sit 'round and be blown to bits.
Don't be fools, you two. Come on while you've got a chance." And then,
when he saw how futile were his words: