Evidently many other youths under military age had been inspired with the same idea, for there was a long line outside the door, and as we stood and waited, we examined with interest the mounts of the English cavalry regiment lined up in the street awaiting their riders.  George and Leon were eagerly fingering a long coil of rope thrown on the pommel of one saddle, when a deep voice from behind them ejaculated,

“Guess you ain’t ever seen the likes of that before.  That’s a lasso.”

I explained, and then looking round, beheld a long, lanky individual, his hands on his hips, literally taking us all in.

“Do you think you can tell ’em what that is, sister?”

“I fancy so.”

“Then you must be from home!”

“If you mean the States—­yes.”

“To h—­with the States!  The State—­Texas!”

I didn’t find it necessary to translate that.  “Say, you haven’t by any chance got a razor about you?” he inquired.  I replied that I was not in the habit of carrying such articles on my person.

“No offense meant—­but since you speak this language, perhaps you could persuade one of them kids to go and buy me one.”

I said I thought I might, and my compatriot producing an American double eagle, enjoined Leon to be quick and he’d make it worth his while.

“You see,” he explained, “a razor is all I need to complete my outfit.  Got a Winchester, two revolvers, a Bowie knife, a lance and a lasso.  Razor’s flat and easy to carry.  Might be useful, too.  Nothing like being properly armed.  If I’ve got to sell my hide you bet I’ll sell it dear!”

Leon returned and I was about to ask my friend to give us a little exhibition of his skill with the rope, when the call to arms obliged him to leave.  So enjoining me to give his regards to Broadway, he departed much pleased with the world in general and himself in particular.

From various sources, though none of them official, I learned that the road as far as Coulommiers was clear.  That was all we wanted to know, so after seeing the boys off for Orleans, a very much diminished caravan started on its homeward journey.  The horses, after two days’ rest, were quite giddy, and the carts being light, they carried us on the new road north as far as Pezarches with but few halts.  The country we passed through, though abandoned by its inhabitants, showed no traces of invasion.  The Germans had not been able to push so far west.  I counted on making Coulonimiers to sleep, but night closed in early and with it came a chilly drizzle, which sent us in search of lodgings.  Not a soul was to be seen anywhere, and as all the houses were shut, I deemed it unwise to force a door.  So we pushed ahead into the border of the forest, hoping that the rain would soon cease.

Presently someone discovered an abandoned hermitage, through whose low doorway we crept, and spreading out our blankets on the floor, prepared to make a night of it—­glad of shelter from the dampness.