The two children, their teeth chattering, looked towards us in terror.

“Nini, put on the warmest clothes you possess and help Madame Guix to dress Yvonne.  Then go to the kitchen and wait there without moving.”

My own toilet was brief, and five minutes later, lamp in hand, I was pounding on all the doors of the long corridors, fearful lest some one be forgotten and locked in the house.  When I reached the second floor I bethought me of the woman and her two children, and as I advanced I called, “Don’t be frightened.  This is merely a warning!”

The poor soul must have been dreaming, for when I touched her door she screamed, and as I opened it and held the lamp over my head, I could see the two little creatures clinging to their mother, who on her knees begged, “Take me, but spare my babies!”

I had some difficulty in reassuring her, but finally succeeded, and left her to go below to the hospital.

At the first alarm, the women who were sleeping there had fled in terror, and when assured that all were gone, for safety’s sake I went up into the vestibule and standing at the foot of’ the stairs, called, “All out!  All out!  I’m closing up and leaving!”

No one answering, I judged that my summons had been obeyed, and so hurried back to my own room to fetch jewels, kodak and pets.  On my way down I opened H.’s wardrobe and grabbed several overcoats, confident that the boys would forget theirs and need them.

In the courtyard I found Julie and her family already perched on the hay-cart, where Yvonne had been hoisted and lay moaning, well covered in a blanket.  Both horses were hitched and my servants waiting orders.  Beside ours, other big drays were being prepared for flight, yet there was no confusion—­no loud talking—­no lamenting.  I then told the boys to hurry to the farm yard and open all the gates so that the poultry and cows could have free access to the entire estate, which is closed in by a wall.  I was thus certain that though they might feel hungry they, would not die for want of food or water during the short time I intended to be gone.

This done, I went to the kitchen where I found Nini, who had obeyed orders not to move but who had presence of mind enough to lay out bread and jam and wine for the famished youth who had brought the message.

In the lamplight I caught sight of my road maps on the refectory wall, and setting my jewel box on the table I began unpinning and carefully folding them and put them in the pocket of my motor coat.  Almost at the same instant, the lamp flickered and Leon came in to say that all the dogs were found save the beagle hound and three fox terrier puppies, who, frightened by the bell and the commotion, had hidden in the hay lofts.  We went out, and I called and whistled in vain—­none of them appeared.

All this had taken more time than I expected.  The wagons full of refugees had disappeared, and we were alone.