"Then they think—!" cried Henri, almost overcome.
"They do not know—no one knows. But if there is to be another siege, it is better that the government should be where the Germans cannot bottle it up. I shall stay here, but I shall be safe. There are plenty to do what I need. Go to Amiens, Henri. Your place is near your mother. If there seems to be danger, beg her to come here, or even to go to her friends, the Douays, in Nice. There at least all will be safe."
Henri did not argue with his aunt. It was hard for him to realize the truth, as it was for Frenchmen older than himself. But he admitted it to Frank and even to himself, that night. And so the next morning they started for Amiens. An officer, returning to the front after bringing despatches to Paris, agreed to see that they reached the northern city safely. Without him, indeed, they would have found it difficult, if not impossible, to get aboard a train, for while other railways were open those that led to the front were entirely in the hands of the military authorities.
But thanks to the friendly officer, a friend of the Martin family in Paris, they reached Amiens quickly enough. On the way, more than once they passed long trains carrying wounded, and, several times, other trains on which were packed German prisoners. These, under close guard, looked out sullenly from the windows. The sight delighted Henri.
"That doesn't look much as if we were losing, does it?" he cried happily.
Amiens itself was a smaller Paris. In times of peace, Amiens is, like many other French cities, a curious place, owing to the contrast between its character as a busy, bustling, manufacturing town, and its other character as a place where there are many renowned examples of ancient art. But now it was quiet save for the ever present soldier. Troops were passing through the streets; in the station several hundred were entraining.
"Do soldiers go from here, too?" asked Frank.
"Yes. Amiens is the headquarters of the second army corps," explained Harry. "All the reservists of that corps report here, no matter where they live. When a regiment loses a lot of men, if it is in the second corps, new men from here go forward to fill their places. There is no sign of the Prussians, eh?"
"No," said Frank. "I hope there never will be! But, tell me, would they fight here? Are there fortifications?"
"Not new ones—no," said Harry. He pointed to the old citadel crowning one of the hills that commanded the town and the crooked, twisting course of the Somme river. "There is the old citadel. That still stands. But the ancient battlements have been dismantled. I believe that in time of war, if the enemy got past the troops in the field, they could come peacefully into Amiens. It is not a fortress, like Lille or Maubeuge. Oh, look, there are some of the scouts! I see Monsieur Marron. He is the directeur of the troop—the scoutmaster. Let us speak to him."