that the Germans were bearing down on us, and swiftly. When we looked
at the map and saw the names of the cities, towns and villages whose
populations had succeeded each other down the road, it was clear that
the French must be beating a forced retreat, or (and this was unlikely)
panic had spread so quickly that the whole north of France was now
moving south on a fool's errand. We cast this second hypothesis aside.
We had heard too many tales of woe and seen too much misery to believe
anything of the sort. Well, and then what? Our case was simple--either
the Germans would be stopped before they reached us, or the French army
would put in an appearance, in which latter case it would be time enough
to leave, unless we were officially evacuated before! Having adopted
this simple line of conduct, we retired, quite satisfied and not in the
least uneasy.

In the cool gray dawn of Wednesday morning, September second, when I
opened my shutters and looked out into the little square that faces the
chateau, I was amazed to see that the refugees who had halted there were
in carts and wagons whose signs were most familiar. They came from
Soissons!

"Hello," thought I, "I'll go and see what they have to say! Things must
be getting very bad if a big city like Soissons suddenly takes to its
heels." (Soissons is but little over twenty miles from Villiers.) As I
came down stairs I heard the drum roll, and George, who just then
appeared with the milk, announced that the requisition of horses which
should have taken place at Chateau-Thierry that morning, was
indefinitely postponed. That was hardly reassuring, especially as it
was the first official news we had received in a long time.

So busy were we helping those who had slept at the chateau to depart,