I went and fetched our delighted caravan, and after safely depositing them in their new residence, I was crossing the main street to join my friends, when a big military auto whisked into the middle of the square and halted.  Ten seconds later it was followed by a dozen others, and by the time I had reached the Baudoins’ the place was literally lined with motors, containing officers and orderlies.  We were just sitting down when some one pounded on the door and a deep authoritative voice called out, “You’re to lodge a general and two officers!” And we could hear the man hastily chalking the names on the door.

Madame Baudoin looked from me to her husband, her eyes wide open with astonishment.  The meal was forgotten and we hurried out into the twilight to seek news.  The Etat Major of a cavalry division was to bivouac at Rebais, would be leaving at midnight.

My friends understood, and they who had not as yet seen a soldier since the war began, realized for the first time that they were now in the midst of the retreating army.  I begged them to make ready for flight and they hurried homewards while I returned to the bakery to hold council.

As I reached the door, someone touched me on the shoulder and an officer, pointing to the Red Cross armlet I was wearing, said: 

“Go to the hospital at once.  We need your services.  Wounded.”

“Very well, sir,” I replied, and stepped inside.

“Madame Guix!  Madame Guix!” I called in the stairway from the shop.

The others came clattering down all excitement, saying that Madame Guix had been recognized by her uniform and sent flying to the hospital.

Just then a shadow barred the entrance door and turning I saw an army chauffeur standing there.

“A piece of bread for God’s sake,” he begged.

“What?”

“Yes, I’m nearly dead of hunger.  We’ve had no time to cook our food, and bread has been lacking for two days.”

I looked about me—­the bread boxes were empty.  I had no right to do so, but I opened all the cupboards.  The least I could do was pay, if the bakers appeared.  I found a stale loaf and chopped it in four with the big knife near the counter.  The way that poor fellow bit into it brought tears to my eyes.

“Wait a minute,” I said as he turned away, and I rushed out to the court where my cart was standing.  In a moment I was back with a slice of ham and some sweet chocolate and Julie came up with a glass of water.

I was about to ask questions when another form appeared, followed by still another.

“Bread—­oh, for heaven’s sake, bread!” they implored.  Apparently there was no reason why I should not go on with my new trade until all the hungry chauffeurs in the army were satisfied.  But remembering the wounded, I turned over my job to Julie, with orders to deal out the bread as long as it lasted and to go lightly with the chocolate, as my provision was not endless.