e. These he sorted out, irrespective
of their family ties, and herded from the surrounding districts into
Noyon. They were crowded into the houses and ordered under pain of
death not to come out until they were given permission. They were
further ordered to shutter all their windows and not to look out.

As an old lady, who narrated the story, said, "We had no idea,
Monsieur, what was to happen. _Les Boches_ had been with us for nearly
three years; it never entered our heads that they were leaving. When
they took the last of our young girls from us and all who were strong
among our men, it was something that they had done so often and so
often. When they made us hide in our houses, we thought it was only
to prevent a disturbance. It is not easy to see your boys and girls
marched away into slavery--Monsieur will understand that. Sometimes,
on former occasions, the mothers had attacked _les Boches_ and the
young girls had become hysterical; we thought that it was to avoid
such scenes that we were shut up in our houses. When darkness fell,
we sat in our rooms without any lights, for they also were forbidden.
All night long through our streets we heard the endless tramping
of battalions, the clattering wheels of guns and limbers, the sharp
orders, the halting and the marching taken up afresh. Towards dawn
everything grew silent. At first it would be broken occasionally by
the hurried trot of cavalry or the shuffling footsteps of a straggler.
Then it grew into the absolute silence of death. It was nerve-racking
and terrible. One could almost hear the breathing of the listening
people in all the other houses. I do not know how time went or what
was the hour. I could endure the suspense no longer. They might kill
me, but ... Ah well, at my age after nearly three years with 'les
Boches,' killing is a little matter! I crept down the passage and drew
back the bolts. I was very gentle; a sentry might hear me. I opened
the door just a crack. I expected to hear a rifle-shot ring out, but
nothing happened. I opened it wider, and saw that the street was empty
and that it was broad daylight. Then I waited--I do not know how long
I waited. I crouched against the wall, huddled with terror. All this
took much longer in the doing than in the telling. At last I could
bear myself no longer. I tiptoed out on to the pavement--and, Monsieur
will believe me, I expected to drop dead. But no one disturbed me.
Then I heard a rustling. Doors everywh