He hesitates.
“Can’t you see I’m no spy?”
“I am not so sure, Fräulein. If you value safety you will keep within doors while the army passes.”
For a time I obey this order. Then some cavalry come by. There is excitement, a horse has bolted, someone is hurt. I put my head out of the window for a moment.
Five minutes later the attaché returns.
“Es thut mir leid, Fräulein. I am sorry, but you are under arrest. My Chief orders it so.”
My knees feel as if they were giving way. I give a horrified gasp.
“You have ten minutes to pack a few things, then you will be sent over to Germany under escort.”
I run into the house and tell the Job-Lepouses. They instantly fear the worst and are dissolved in tears.
It is the affair of a minute to stow a few necessaries in a suit-case. Unfortunately I stupidly pack papers too. I have a mouthful of black bread. Madame la Précepteur cries over me, so do the Job-Lepouses. I shall never forget their kindness. Then the attaché returns with a young officer.