When night came on the question of beds arose again. The cellar seemed hardly possible, and the military officers considered the question.
Across the road from the most ruined end of the canteen building stood an old church. All of its north wall was gone save a supporting column in the middle, all the north roof gone. There were holes in all the other walls, and all the windows were gone. The floor was covered with débris and wreckage. It had been used all day for an evacuation hospital.
Just over the altar was a wonderful picture of the Christ ascending to heaven. It was still uninjured save for a shot through the heart.
The military officer stood on the steps of this ruined church, and, looking around in perplexity, remarked:
“Well, I guess this is the wholest place in town.” Then stepping inside he glanced about and pointed:
“And this is the most secluded spot here!”
The seclusion was a pillar! But the girls were glad to get even that for there was no other place, and they were very weary. So they set up their little cots, and prepared to roll themselves in their blankets for a well-earned rest.
The boys had built a small bonfire on the stone floor against a piece of one wall that was still standing, and now they sent a deputation to know if the girls would bring their guitars over and have a little music. The boys, of course, had no idea that the girls had not slept for more than twenty-four hours, and the girls never told them. They never even cast one wistful glance toward their waiting cots, but smilingly assented, and went and got their instruments.
