Yvonne had stood the journey so far very well though unable as yet to walk, but as the cool of the evening came on I began to worry lest a night out of doors set her screaming with pain. So as I laced my boots, I decided to go back to Rebais and make another desperate attempt to lodge her at least.
"Did Madame see Maitre Baudoin this morning," asked Leon, to whom I imparted my plans.
I gasped! What a fool I was! My mind was so upset that I had forgotten that my own notary was a prominent personality in Rebais.
A quarter of an hour later I turned into the public square and beheld Maitre Baudoin and his wife standing on the doorstep watching the exodus of numerous refugees.
"Madame Huard!" they exclaimed. "You? What on earth has happened?"
I explained in a few words.
"Why, come right in. We were just going to sit down to dinner."
I said I was not alone, and must first look after the others. Without waiting a second, Maitre Baudoin crossed over to the town hall and soon returned with a key in his hand.
"Here, here's the key to a bakery—there are rooms above. Your people can lodge there and you come in with us. All this will be over in a day or so; the news is good to-day. The Germans will never reach the Marne!"
I went and fetched our delighted caravan, and after safely depositing them in their new residence, I was crossing the main street to join my friends, when a big military auto whisked into the middle of the square and halted. Ten seconds later it was followed by a dozen others, and by the time I had reached the Baudoins' the place was literally lined with motors, containing officers and orderlies. We were just sitting down when some one pounded on the door and a deep authoritative voice called out, "You're to lodge a general and two officers!" And we could hear the man hastily chalking the names on the door.