evacuated!"

Our driver needed no more--and so we pushed on into the town, while I
pantomimed to those behind that I had a wounded man in my arms.

In front of the city hall stood a noisy gathering, and in reply to our
questions, a middle-aged man jumped on to the step.

"Go ahead--I'll guide you. All the seven hospitals in Melun were
transferred to Orleans this morning. The mixed hospital is all that is
left."

After what seemed an interminable time we finally pulled up a long hill
and after much parleying I succeeded in turning over my patient to the
medical authorities.

Through the half open door of the little stuffy office where I was
conducted I could see a white-aproned doctor and a nurse properly
bandaging my boy. When my _compagnons de route_ had departed, I walked
out into the ward and straight up to the bedside.

"Is there any hope?"

"Not one chance in a million! Would to heaven we had the right to spare
them such suffering! Morphine is no longer helpful in his case!"

It was a shock to hear this. The lad, who a couple of hours before was
unknown to me, suddenly became very dear. I turned about to hide my
emotion, but was startled out of it by the double line of white beds on
which were writhing men and boys in the most awful agony, yet not a
sound broke from their lips. In the middle of the room a second doctor,
a slight man with a pointed beard, stood washing his hands and then
began drawing on a pair of long rubber gloves. He crossed over to a
basin and, after sterilizing his instruments, looked around for an aid.

"Can I do anything for you, doctor?"

Not in the least surprised by my audacity he asked, "Are you a nurse?"

"No."

"Have you ever seen an operation."

"Yes."

I lied.

"Have you a good temperament?"

"Yes."

"Then come over here and hold this basin." I obeyed, and then Doctor
Jean Masbrennier began a series of operations which will remain graven
in my memory forever.

As he worked he talked--and informed me that the Red Cross Society had
been hastily evacuated in the morning, doctors and all. Only those who
were unable to be moved had been left behind, and only two civilian
doctors were left to attend them. But one nurse remained to do all the
bandaging. That was why I had been rung into service. It took but
little time to find a mutual acquaintance in the person of Elizabeth
Gauthier, and the doctor had long been familiar with H.'s work.

It would be