THE FIRST DUTY
Morning brought awakening to the two friends with the sounding of reveille from bugles, seemingly just outside their window. Together they sprang from bed, raced to the window, wide open as it had been all night, and looked out. Not far away, in a small park, one of those for which the city of Amiens is famous, they saw an array of white tents that they had not seen the night before when they had gone to bed. Already the camp was stirring; even as they watched the soldiers were all about. And early as it was, they saw a scout ride up on a bicycle, speak to the sentry who challenged him, and wait. In a moment an officer came out, the scout saluted, and his salute was returned as stiffly and gravely as it had been given. Then the scout handed the officer a letter, saluted again and, receiving permission, turned away and vaulted on his wheel.
Henri was vastly excited.
"Come on!" he cried eagerly. "Let's get dressed, Frank. I see that we should be out already."
"Yes. It's time we were getting busy if the others are at work," said Frank. "Where do you suppose those chaps came from?"
"I don't know—that's exactly what's puzzling me," said Henri, his brow knitted. "They don't look like reserve troops. I don't know exactly why, either, but we can soon find out."
They bathed and dressed hurriedly, and went down to find that Marie, the cook who had been with the Martin family ever since Henri could remember, was ready to give them their breakfast. In a time when many families for reasons of economy were allowing their servants to go, Henri's mother had kept all of hers.
"Now, more than ever," she said, "they need the work and the wages. It is a time for those who can possibly afford it to engage more servants, rather than to discharge those they have already in their employ and service."
Madame Martin, who, like Henri's aunt in Paris, was busy all day long in helping the wounded, doing voluntary duty in the Red Cross hospital to which she had been assigned, was not yet up. She had greeted the two boys on their arrival the previous evening, but had left the house immediately after dinner, since it was her turn to do some night work.
"She is wearing herself out," complained old Marie. "A fine lady like her dressing the wounds of piou-pious, indeed!"