Presently we hit a cobbled road which must have been a joy to all heavy
machines, but which nearly jolted us out of our light vehicle. Patience
and good humor were very rapidly disappearing when we rounded a curve,
struck the good macadam, and I saw the twin spires of St. Jean rising
majestically against the clear blue summer sky.

At our right I noticed the entrance gate to a chateau over which hung a
big Red Cross, such as I coveted for my home, and then in a moment we
were already in a _faubourg_ of Soissons. It was not unlike the
entrance to any other provincial city in ordinary times, save that there
were many red-trousered men mixed in with the other population. There
were no chains across the road, but four soldiers in uniform mounted
guard. We showed _patte blanche_ and proceeded to ask for the Red Cross
headquarters.

"Madame Macherez is the president. You must go to her. Cross the city
and go out east towards St. Paul. Her chateau is there."

Naturally we headed straight for our destination, but were stopped every
other minute by police who side-tracked us into back streets. The big
thoroughfares must be kept clear for the army!

I set down my old friend near the town hall, and told him that I should
be returning about noon. If he were ready, I would be glad to give him
a lift. Would he meet us in front of the _Hotel du Soleil d'Or?_

He was delighted, and promised to be on time.

We crossed the Aisne; I must say rather heedlessly, little dreaming that