"Come," said Dr. van der Helde, firmly but kindly, "come, old man. We are going to take you to a quiet place."
The one whom he touched and addressed shook his head and settled to the same apathy which held the group.
"Oh, yes," said Dr. van der Helde, "you'll be all right."
He and Smith and Dr. McDonnell caught hold of the inert body and lifted it to the car. Two old women and one more aged man they carried from that hall-way of despair to the motor which had been left throbbing under power.
"Will you come back?" asked Dr. van der Helde.
"As soon as we have found a place for them," replied Dr. McDonnell.
The car pulled out of the hospital yard and ran uninjured through the town. The firing was intermittent, now. Two miles back at the cross-roads, four army ambulances were drawn up waiting for orders.
"Come on in. The water's fine," cried Hilda to the drivers.
"Comment?" asked one of them.
"Why don't you go into Dixmude?" she explained. "There are twenty-six old people in St. Jean there. We've got four of them here."