t tell you how many times that
morning my soul was recommended to the tender protection of the Blessed
Virgin.

While the women prepared the meal, George had taken the men to the
wash-house, where soap and water worked miracles on their dusty faces;
one by one all the members of the group disappeared in that direction
and when they gathered around the long table in the refectory, it was
altogether a different company to that of an hour before.

As they sat down it came over me that none of us had eaten since the
night before, and dropping onto a chair, I suddenly realized that I was
tired. Berthe and Nini, however, wanted to know where I would lunch,
and were rather startled when I informed them to lay a cloth on the
kitchen table and to bring out all the cold meat, cheese, bread, butter
and jam in the larder. It would be a stand-up picnic lunch for everyone
to-day, and what was more, it was very likely to be picnic dinner; so
Julie was ordered to put two chickens to roast and some potatoes to
boil--both needed but little attention and would always be ready when we
might need them.

The meal passed in silence in both rooms, and the "washing up" was done
in no time. Then as they all retired to take their naps, the man who
had first asked me if they might turn into the chateau, and who seemed
to be the leader of the party, came into the kitchen and, hat in hand,
begged a word or so with me.

He had come not only to express the gratitude of his compatriots, but
also his astonishment that I should welcome strangers so cordially. I
tried to side-track the conversation which was very embarrassing, but he
would hear none of it.

"We are not gypsies, you know, Madame." I smiled and told him that that
was more than evident. "Look at our horses and our dogs!" And the good
fellow proceeded to inform me that he was the keeper of a big estate
that belonged to Madame Pyrme (sister of the senator of that name),
situated in the little village of Hanzinell, Belgium. He even offered
to show his papers, but I shook my head. His open-hearted sincerity
and frank countenance were sufficient.

But why had they come away? That was what interested me.

Because their country was invaded and one by one the towns and villages
had been bombarded, looted and burned until little or nothing remained.
Because all men under fifty were carried away as hostages or prisoners;
because he had seen little children slain, and young girls tort