"You really mean to go with me?"
She did not even trouble to reply to the question. So he picked up his packet and his sack of bombs, and they went out, side by side, under the tunnelled wall.
Infantry from Nivelle trenches were still plodding along the dark street under the trees; dull gleams came from their helmets and bayonets in the obscure light of the stars.
The girl stood watching them for a few[pg 236] moments, then her hand sought the airman's arm:
"If there is to be a battle in the street here, my father cannot remain."
The airman nodded, went out into the street and spoke to a passing officer. He, in turn, signalled the driver of a motor omnibus to halt.
The little bell-mistress entered the tavern, followed by two soldiers. In a few moments they came out bearing, chair-fashion between them, the crippled innkeeper.
The old man was much alarmed, but his daughter followed beside him to the omnibus, in which were several lamed soldiers.
"Et toi?" he quavered as they lifted him in. "What of thee, Maryette?"
"I follow," she called out cheerily. "I rejoin thee—" the bus moved on—"God knows when or where!" she added under her breath.