There were three rooms available: One was allotted to the major and one to Miss Carruthers; and Annabelinda and I shared the third with Edouard. We went to them to wash, and agreed to meet in the lounge when we were ready.

There were two beds in our room, and first I looked after Edouard. Some soup and a creamy pudding were sent up to him. I fed him and prepared him for bed, and soon he was fast asleep.

Annabelinda in the meantime was washing. She sat before the mirror, studying her face, while I went on dealing with Edouard.

“This is quite an adventure,” she said contentedly.

“We can certainly call it that.”

“We shall soon be home now. I wonder if we shall see Major Merrivale after he has taken us there.”

“Perhaps he will call. He will know my Uncle Gerald well, I expect.”

“Of course. It was your Uncle Gerald who gave him the task of bringing us back. It’s rather romantic, isn’t it?” She laughed.

“Not too loudly, please, Annabelinda. Edouard’s just going off to sleep.”

“Perhaps I should go down. You could come when you are ready.”

“All right. I may be some little time. I want to make sure he’s fast asleep. I wouldn’t want him waking up in a strange place and finding himself alone.”

She went with alacrity.

She was clearly enjoying the adventure, largely because of Major Merrivale’s presence. And I shared her euphoria. We should soon be home. I longed to see my parents. My mother would know exactly what was best for Edouard and she would understand my feelings about him immediately. How lucky I was in my parents!

Then I began to wonder if Major Merrivale would call on us. I felt sure he would.

I was elated that night. I kept telling myself that it was because we were on our way home and, in Major Merrivale’s care, must soon be there.

There was a gentle tap on the door. I called, “Come in,” and Miss Carruthers entered. It was strange to think of her as Sybil.

“I thought I’d come along and see how you were managing with the baby.”

I pointed to Edouard. “He has just had some soup and pudding and he’s asleep now. I think he is reasonably pleased with life.”

Miss Carruthers went over to look at him. “Poor little mite,” she said.

“I intend that he shall be a lucky and happy little mite.”

“You’re a good girl, Lucinda,” she said. I was surprised. I had not expected such a compliment from her. But everything was different today. It had something to do with Major Merrivale. He was having an effect on us all.

“What a charming man the major is,” she went on. “He makes no trouble of anything. He just inspires one with confidence.”

I agreed, and as we went down to the lounge, I said, “I shall come up again soon just to make sure Edouard is all right. I don’t know how this has affected him. I’m glad he isn’t any older. Then I feel he would have been most upset.”

“Oh, he is too young to know what is happening. I think he is very fond of you, and while you are around he will feel safe.”

“He will surely miss Madame Plantain.”

“Yes. He’ll miss his mother. My dear Lucinda, you have taken on a great deal, you know.”

“My mother will help me. She is wonderful and she will know exactly what to do.”

“I hope I shall meet her.”

“But of course you must. Have you far to go to your home?”

She was silent for a few moments. “Well,” she said at length, “I stay with my cousin during holidays. I was going there for two months when school broke up. We don’t know what will be happening now, do we?”

“Do you think we shall all be going back next term?”

She looked somber and shook her head emphatically. “I have a feeling that it is not going to be over as quickly as that. And what damage the Germans will do as they pass through the country, one can never know. They have already killed the Plantains and destroyed their home. That sort of thing is happening all over Belgium. I’m afraid, Lucinda, that everything is rather uncertain. Come…they will be waiting for us.”

In the lounge Annabelinda was talking animatedly to Major Merrivale, and they were both laughing.

“You’ve been ages,” said Annabelinda. “We’re starving.”

“Lucinda has to care for the baby,” retorted Miss Carruthers rather reprovingly.

“Dear Lucinda! She’s so efficient, Marcus.”

“I’m sure she is.”

The host came and said that dinner was about to be served, and we went into the dining room. Two people were already sitting there. They were both young…not much more than twenty, I imagined.

The young man looked up as we entered and said, “Good evening.” The girl said nothing.

Then the host’s wife came in with hot soup, which was followed by cold beef with potatoes baked in their jackets.

Marcus Merrivale kept up a steady stream of conversation in which we all joined, and just as we were finishing the beef, the girl stood up abruptly and hurried from the room. The young man went out after her.

“What was all that about?” said Annabelinda. “That girl seemed upset.”

“I think a great number of people are upset tonight,” I remarked.

After a short while the young man returned to the dining room. He seemed upset and he looked across to our table almost apologetically.

“Can we do anything to help?” asked the major.

There was a brief silence while apple pie was brought.

“Would you like to join us?” went on Marcus. “You look rather lonely sitting there.”

“Thank you,” replied the young man. He seemed grateful. We made a place for him at our table and he brought his plate over and sat down.

There was something disarming about him. He looked so young, and he was clearly worried. As he seated himself at the table, I noticed there was something unusual about one of his hands. He had lost half his little finger.

I was ashamed when he caught me looking at it.

“It was my own fault,” he said. “I was playing with fireworks.”

“How terrible!” I cried.

“Yes….One careless moment and one has a reminder for the rest of one’s life.”

“It is not very noticeable.”

He smiled at me ruefully. “One is conscious of it.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“I suppose one really is more conscious of one’s disabilities than other people are.” He smiled and went on. “We have had a terrible shock, my sister and I. We have lost our home and our parents. I can’t believe it now. That day, we were all there together…just as we had always been, and then suddenly…our home is gone…our parents killed. I can’t believe it even now.”

“It’s happening all over Belgium, I’m afraid,” said Marcus.

“I know. But because others are suffering in the same way, that does not make it any easier.”

“Where are you going now?” asked Marcus.

“I am going to join the French army, but I am worried about Andrée. You see…there isn’t anyone now…”

“Where do you come from?” asked Marcus.

“Just outside Charleroi. We have lived there all our lives, and now…Well, I had thought about joining the army some little while ago…and now, of course, it seems the only thing. But there is Andrée.”

“Where were you going?” Marcus asked.

“I wanted Andrée to go to England. We’ve got an aunt there. Andrée visited her only last year. She lives in a place called Somerset. Our aunt married an Englishman. But…er…Andrée does not want to go there. She wants to stay with me. But if I am going into the army…Poor Andrée, she can’t grasp what has happened to us. The sound of the guns was terrible. They were only a few miles away. Everyone was getting out. My parents didn’t want to leave the farm. They’d been there all their married life. How can you get up and leave everything you’ve ever known? And then it was too late. It all went up in a sort of cloud…the fields…the house itself. And my parents were in the house. Andrée and I were in the fields some way off. That is why we are here now.”

“It is a sad story,” said Miss Carruthers. “It wouldn’t have seemed possible a few weeks ago, and now it is happening all round us.”

“It is a difficult decision to make,” went on the young man. “I don’t want to leave Andrée, but I’ll feel happier if she is in England. I feel I must get into the army somehow. I have always wanted to, and now I feel I have to fight this vicious enemy.”

“Your great anxiety is for your sister,” said Marcus.

The young man nodded. He had not touched his apple pie.

“I should try to eat, if I were you,” said Marcus gently. But the young man shook his head and pushed the plate away.

As soon as the meal was over, I went up to see Edouard. He was sleeping peacefully. I felt depressed by the conversation with the young man, who was just another of those who were enduring terrible suffering at this time.

When I rejoined the party, he was still there. He obviously found comfort in the society of sympathetic listeners.

He was still talking about his sister, Andrée, and stressing how relieved he would be if she were safe in England.

At length Marcus reminded us that we had to make an early start in the morning and what we needed was a good night’s sleep. So we said good-bye to the young man, whom we had by this time discovered was Georges Latour, wished him the best of luck and went to our rooms.

I was pleased to see that Edouard was still sleeping peacefully. I slept in the bed with him, and Annabelinda took the other; and in spite of the excitement of the day, I was soon fast asleep.

When I awoke, I wondered where I was until I looked around the room and saw Edouard beside me and Annabelinda asleep in the other bed.

I yawned and got up, wondering what this day would bring.

In the dining room there was coffee and crusty bread, hot from the oven. Georges Latour was at the table.

“Andrée is not up yet,” he said.

“Is she feeling better?” I said.

“A little, I think. Things never seem quite so bad in the morning, do they?”

“I suppose not.”

I fed Edouard, who regarded Georges Latour solemnly. He said, “Whose is the baby?”

I told him about the Zeppelin raid and the deaths of Jacques and Marguerite Plantain, and how I had found Edouard in his perambulator in the garden.

“I knew him, you see. I used to visit them. It wasn’t as though he were a stranger to me. I could not leave him.”

“What a tragedy this war is for so many!” said Georges.

And I was sorry to have reminded him of his own tragedy. We sat in gloomy silence for a few minutes, and then Marcus came. The atmosphere changed. Even Georges Latour seemed to brighten a little.

“Ah, up in good time, I see,” said Marcus. “And young Edouard? How is he finding life this morning?”

“Much as usual,” I replied. “He seems to be rather indifferent to his surroundings.”

“As long as he has someone to see to his comforts, what does he care where he is?” said Marcus. “You really are very good at looking after him.”

“It’s easy, and he is a good child.”

Marcus then said to Georges, “And you…you’ll be leaving soon, I suppose?”

“As soon as my sister is ready.”

“How is she this morning?”

“More or less the same.”

“I hope it all works out….”

Marcus drank some coffee and ate some of the bread. Miss Carruthers joined us. “It will be wonderful if we can get across the Channel tonight,” she said.

“We’ll try,” said Marcus. “There’ll be troopships coming over, so there may be a little delay. But we’ll make it, never fear….If not tonight, tomorrow.”

“It will be wonderful to be home,” I said.

Then Annabelinda came in.

“Oh, am I late?” she asked.

“Not really,” Marcus assured her. “Just let us say the others were early.”

“How kind you are! I do like people who make excuses for me! Oh, what delicious-looking bread! And coffee, too!”

We chatted for a while and Marcus asked if we could all be ready to leave in fifteen minutes. Then we would set off. We all declared we could be, and he went out to get the car.

But we did not leave in fifteen minutes.

We were assembled in the lounge. Andrée had come down, ready for departure. She smiled at us wanly. We did not like to ask how she was in case she thought the inquiry referred to her abrupt departure from the dining room on the previous night.

We were sitting there rather uneasily when Marcus came in.

“There’s a hitch,” he said. “Something wrong with the vehicle.”