Now the booming of the thunder was giving them an idea of the fury of the storm. When midnight came the almost continuous roar was jarring and shaking the old Hotel de la Palette to its foundation. Window panes and doors rattled noisily, and the ambulanciers, about as wide awake as they had ever been in their lives, listened with feelings of awe as the rushing wind howled and whistled past and drenching torrents of rain beat and splashed against the ancient structure.
"Some poor chaps are getting a mighty good soaking to-night," remarked Don.
"I should think both sides would call off the war while the storm lasts," declared "Tiny." "Now is the time I suppose we ought to hear that 'phone bell ringing."
"Don't mention such a thing," said Dunstan.
Then, as the tumult of the raging storm made conversation difficult, the ambulanciers relapsed into silence. Some again lolled on the benches, while others continued to exercise their limbs.
The crashing of the thunder soon became almost deafening, and through every crack of the windows and door the bluish flashes of lightning gleamed brilliantly. And for hour after hour, with scarcely a lull, the storm kept up its violence.
Glad indeed were the Red Cross men when at length the force of the downpour began to lessen, the wind to quiet down and the lightning to come at longer intervals.
About two A. M. the last volley of nature's artillery boomed majestically overhead, the last heavy patter of rain-drops was heard, and the tempest, passing on, left the village serene and peaceful, except for the sound of the distant guns.
"Ah, mes amis, I breathe freely again," cried Dunstan. He laughed. "To tell the truth, I had dreadful visions of taking Number Three along that water-soaked road. It shows the folly of borrowing trouble. Be a philosopher. Being a philosopher prevents wrinkles from creasing the brow. It holds the gray hair at bay. It——"
Ting-a-ling! Ting!