her motor drew up before the
gate. This one contained besides three privates a young officer with his
arm in a sling, and he asked if we could give them water. Leon told
them that they would be very welcome if they would care to come in and
rest--there were already a half-dozen wounded asleep in the house. At
these words the lieutenant jumped down and asked for the _medicin-chef_.
He was rather startled when I appeared, and told him that there was no
military authority as yet installed at the chateau.

"Then I must take all the responsibility of the men," he said very
kindly but firmly. "I'm sorry, but they cannot remain here. I must
deliver them safe at some big center outside the zone of operations."

The time had come for questions--and I learned with amazement that Liege
had fallen, Belgium was invaded, and that hard fighting was going on at
St. Quentin, but eighty miles away. "The cannon of yesterday was no
target practice," thought I. The men all seemed so hopeful, though,
that we never felt a qualm.

"As you will, Monsieur," I said, and the weary boys were wakened and
hurried off before we had time to ask names, addresses or any further
details.

All this had transpired so rapidly that we had had no time to call in
our assistants, and presently Madame Guix and I found ourselves alone in
the empty vestibule.

IV

Nothing further happened that afternoon. Madame Guix's course went on
as usual, with perhaps a little more animation in the conversation, and
much speculation as to when and where those who had stopped at the
chateau had been wounded. No one really knew. To tell the truth,
though later Madame Guix and I had asked them, the soldiers themselves
had but a very indistinct idea of time and date or whereabouts.

That night I was awakened by the low rumbling of heavy carts on the road
in front of the chateau. Fancying that perhaps it was artillery on its
way to the front, I put on my dressing gown and went as far as the gate.
There in the pale moonlight I beheld a long stream of carriages and
wagons of every description piled high with household goods, and filled
with women and children. The men walked beside the horses to prevent
collision, for as far as eye could see, the lamentable _cortege_
extended down the hill.

What did this mean?

"Who are you?" I called to one of the men as they passed.

"Belgians--refugees."

Refugees! My mind flew back to descriptions of the French Rev