"What rot! They're Frenchmen—dragoons. You don't know your own countrymen when you see them! Did you approach them?"
"No."
"Then what in the name of common sense sent you flying down here to scare us like that? You've got no business spreading panic broadcast. If you don't turn around and scamper home, the way you came, I'll have you arrested. Allez!"
My nerves had stood the strain as long as possible. This false alarm had roused my anger and in a jiffy I could see how thousands of people had been deceived, and were now erring homeless along the roads of France!
"You can do what you like," I said, turning to the others, "but I've had enough of this for one day—I'm going to bed. Good-night, gentlemen."
"The chatelaine is going to bed, the chatelaine is going to bed!" "Let all go to bed," and similar phrases were echoed among the groups and presently we all separated, after many cordial a demain.
The clock in the village church was striking midnight when I finally retired, after calling my greyhounds and Betsy into my room, and assuring myself that they all had on their collars, and that their leashes were hanging on my bed post.
Nini, the little traitor, had evidently told Yvonne of my preparations for departure, and the two girls, whose beds were in the next room to mine, had been unable to close their eyes, for as I blew out my lamp, I could hear their childish voices repeating the rosary:
"Hail Mary full of Grace—the Lord is with Thee…"
* * * * *