"The trenches at Nivelle are being emptied," said the airman.
"And do you mean that you and I are to go there, to Nivelle?" she asked.
"That is exactly what I mean. In an hour I shall be in the Nivelle belfry. Will you be there with me?"
"Yes."
"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "You can play 'La Brabançonne' on the bells while I blow hell out of them in the redoubt below us!"
The infantry from the Nivelle trenches began to pass. There were a few wagons, a battery of seventy-fives, a soup kitchen or two and a long column of mules from Fontanes.
Two American muleteers knocked at the inn door and came stamping into the hallway, asking for a loaf and a bottle of red wine. Maryette rose from the table to find pro[pg 232]visions; the airman got up also, saying in English:
"Where do you come from, boys?"
"From Fontanes corral," they replied, surprised to hear their own tongue spoken.
"Do you know Jack Burley, one of your people?"