Opening the door to my own bedroom where the child lay, talking, moving the little hands incessantly, I saw that the nurse from the excess of fright had crawled under the bed. The soldier yanked her out, saying he would not hurt her, chucked her under the chin, and called her a "pretty animal!" Poor Stephinia, she could hardly stand! I, in my anxiety, pushed the soldier from the room, to find the others already making themselves at home.
"You cannot stop here. Go away! I am not afraid of you; I am an American. If you do any harm to us the world shall hear of it!"
They had been drinking, and the very fact that I defied them made an impression.
"Go out on the road. I will send food to you."
They went. One of them, giving me a look of sympathy, said:
"You have my sympathy, Madame."
That gave me courage, and shutting the door I went back to my boy. Always the same; I should not have left his side for an instant.
IV—INVASION OF AN AMERICAN WOMAN'S HOME
The town by now was in an uproar, every one seemed screaming together. As I looked from the window, my hand touched the prayer-book lying on the table.