"Then where can we get the light?"
"I really don't know," said Venna as cheerfully as she could, "but I'll talk it over at headquarters. Good-bye for a few days. Take courage. We'll do our very best for you."
As Venna left the house, and went to the next, the child stood watching her go with eyes full of longing for the promised future.
When Venna had finished her rounds, her heart was unusually heavy. She could not get hardened to these scenes of misery. What an experience had been hers! New York and its associations seemed in another world of the remote past.
Her husband's letters had come frequently and been a great source of courage. But for the last month she could get no news from him. Evidently his letters were lost—or—she dared not think anything worse—surely if anything had happened to him, she would have been notified, yet—the cruel doubt made her shudder, and to-day, as she drove toward Noyon, she felt a deep sympathy for those she had just left—the poor, helpless people clamoring for news. News! How she longed for news herself!
As she approached the top of a hill, a sign came in full view.
"Cette pointe est vue de Tenmeni. N'arrettez pas"—(This point is in sight of the enemy. Do not stop.)
Venna gave a shudder as she passed by quickly.
On the other side of the hill she beheld the ruins of the great castle of Coucy. The Lords of Coucy had been the proudest in the surrounding country. They held themselves superior to kings. Now this massive castle was a heap of dust-colored stone.
"Surely God is no respecter of persons," thought Venna.