one of the _habitues_ stepped in.

"_Eh bien, Monsieur_, what news?"

The person addressed kept on perusing the titles of the books spread
along the counter, and drawing a long puff from his cigarette and
without lifting his eyes, said, "The mobilization is for four o'clock!
Official. Have you something entertaining to read on my way to the
front?"

"_What?_"

"Yes, gentlemen."

"War?"'

"It looks very much like it!"

Though almost expected, the news gave us a thrill. We stood spellbound
and tongue-tied.

What to do? There were so many decisions to be made at a moment's
notice! H. was for our coming to Paris, as all the men must necessarily
leave the chateau.

"Mobilization doesn't necessarily mean war, man. Besides if it does
come it can't last long. You'd better go back to your place in the
country, Huard. A big estate like that needs looking after," said
Conard.

"Where do you live?" questioned the gentleman who had given us the news.

"Villiers--sixty miles _east_ of Paris."

"Well, if you decide to go there I advise you to take the soonest train.
The eastern railway belongs to the army, and only the army, beginning at
noon to-day."

H. looked at his watch. It was nearly eleven, and our next train left
at noon sharp. We jumped into a taxi.

"Drive to the Gare de l'Est and on the way stop at Tarides! We must
have maps, good road maps of the entire north and east," said H.,
turning to me.

It seemed as though he had had that thought in common with the entire
Parisian population, for all down the boulevards the bookshops and
stationers were already overflowing with men, chiefly in regimentals,
and as to the shoe-shops and boot-makers--there was a line waiting
outside of each. Yet there was no excitement, no shouting, not even an
"extra."

What a different sight our station presented to that of two hours
before! The great iron gates were shut, and guarded by a line of
_sergents de ville_. Only men joining their regiments and persons
returning to their legitimate dwellings were allowed to pass. And there
were thousands of both. Around the grillwork hovered dense groups of
women, bravely waving tearless adieux to their men folk.

After assuring himself that there was still a noon train, H. led me to
the restaurant directly opposite the station.

"We'll have a bite here. Heaven knows what time we shall reach home!"

The room was filled to overflowing; the lunchers being mostly of