"That's right, Madame, you've hit it!" he encouraged.
There just wasn't any choice. The chauffeur got down and began piling the gasoline cans behind on the back seat to one side. Then, each of us grabbing a corner of the mattress, we hoisted the sufferer onto the machine, covering him with a sheet. Try as we would, though, we could not get him to bend his knees, and in consequence all during the trip the poor chauffeur received constant kicks from the agonized soul we were rushing towards surgical aid.
"Now then," I said, turning to my old driver. "Thank you for your cart, and bon voyage to Coulommiers. George, tell my people to meet me in Melun."
And hatless, coatless, with but one golden louis in my pocket (I had confided my bag to Julie when the wounded man had arrived at Jouy), I started on our record-breaking trip to Melun.
VII
It was an exciting trip, that race for life and death—for every moment I knew my wounded boy was growing weaker, and every convulsive kick meant the disappearance of so much life blood. During the numerous adventures which befell us between the time we left Jouy-le-Chatel and our encountering the motor, my hypodermic needle had received such violent treatment that it refused service. So when we turned into Mormont at top speed, I was obliged to ask my driver to slow down and inquire for a doctor. We were directed by a couple of gaping women on the borders of the little city, who didn't quite understand our mission. However, they must have been soon enlightened, for as we crossed the public square the British Red Cross ambulances were pouring in and lining up in battle array. Behind them came a steady stream of ammunition wagons, both horse and motor trucks, and from Mormont to Melun the line was unbroken.
The doctor was absent, but his wife willingly filled his place and with new hope dawning we backed out of the yard and sped southward.
What was the landscape we passed through I really couldn't say. I had a dreamy sensation of having run down a refugee's dog, and hearing its owner wishing us in warmer climes—as well as the feeling that my blood-stained apron and the agitated white sheet beside me created much curiosity among the drivers and occupants of the A. S. C. motors that took up all one side of the road.
One by one the mile posts whizzed past and finally we came into Melun.
"Where's the nearest hospital?" I enquired of a group of soldiers loitering outside a barracks.