"Did you ever see such luck? Here is the old cart horse of Cousine
Georges and the wagon!"

Cousine Georges had fled, it seems, since we left, and her horse had
been left at Esbly to fetch the schoolmistress and her husband. So we
all climbed in. The schoolmistress and her husband did not go far,
however. We discovered before we had got out of Esbly that Couilly had
been evacuated during the day, and that a great many people had left
Voisins; that the civil government had gone to Coutevroult; that the
Croix Rouge had gone. So the schoolmistress and her husband, to whom
all this was amazing news, climbed out of the wagon, and made a dash
back to the station to attempt to get back to Paris. I do hope they
succeeded.

Amelie and I dismissed the man who had driven the wagon down, and jogged
on by ourselves. I sat on a board in the back of the covered cart, only
too glad for any sort of locomotion which was not "shank's mare."

Just after we left Esbly I saw first an English officer, standing in his
stirrups and signaling across a field, where I discovered a detachment
of English artillery going toward the hill. A little farther along the
road we met a couple of English officers--pipes in their mouths and
sticks in their hands--strolling along as quietly and smilingly as if
there were no such thing as war. Naturally I wished to speak to them.
I was so shut in that I could see only directly in front of me, and if
you ever rode behind a big cart horse I need not tell you that although
he walks slowly and heavily he walks steadily, and will not stop for any
pulling on the reins unless he jolly well chooses. As we approached the
officers, I leaned forward and said, "Beg your pardon," but by the time