Time for Silence

“Yes, yes, we have been waiting for you,” Madame Rochère said. “The girls are ready to leave whenever you wish. I expect you would like a little refreshment before you leave. It shall be prepared at once. I will have the girls brought here.”

There was no need. Having heard the arrival, we were already there.

“I’m Lucinda Greenham and this is Annabelinda Denver,” I said.

He took my hand and smiled at me. I felt a deep pleasure. There was something so completely confident about him that one felt there was now nothing to fear. We should soon be home.

“I’m sorry for the delay,” he said. “There was congestion all along the route. People are realizing that the enemy is on the way.”

Annabelinda was smiling at him and he took her hand as he had mine.

“I’m glad I’m here at last. We’ll have you out of this place very soon. When can you leave?”

“Madame Printemps will serve a light luncheon,” said Madame Rochère. “Then you can get away. Most of the servants have gone. They are afraid the Germans will come here. They are trying to get over the border.”

He nodded. “That’s the general idea,” he said.

Miss Carruthers came into the hall.

“Oh, Miss Carruthers, this is Major Merrivale,” I said.

“Ah, yes,” she replied. “How do you do? You have come to take the girls home. I wondered if…” she began, and hesitated. “Well, I have to get home, too. I didn’t feel I could leave while these two were here…and, of course, I wasn’t sure how to get to the coast myself.”

“You mean you want to come along with us,” said the major, with a smile. “But of course. There’s plenty of room.”

Miss Carruthers’s face expressed her joy and relief. I could see that he had the same effect on her as he had on the rest of us.

“Now,” put in Madame Rochère. “You girls have everything ready. Déjeuner will be served now…and then you can leave. Come along into the dining room and we can start.”

We followed her there. I walked beside the major and said, “I must tell you, there is a baby.”

He turned and looked at me. He had a way of raising his eyebrows that was very attractive and somehow made one feel that it would be easy to make him understand.

“A baby?” he said.

“The cottages near the school were destroyed by a Zeppelin. The people there—a husband and wife—were killed. They left a baby. I knew them. I used to visit them. I brought the baby here.”

“And you want to take the child along with you?”

“I must. I made a solemn promise. It was when she was dying.”

“I see. And you promised the mother to take care of the child. Do you know how to look after it?”

“Oh, yes….And you don’t mind…?”

He laughed. “I don’t think I should be very good at looking after it. But you ladies will see to that, I am sure.”

I laughed with him. I thought he was wonderful. I turned away to hide my emotion and he took my arm and pressed it.

Not only was he capable and lighthearted, he had understood at once.

After the meal—which made me think of the Feast of the Passover—our pieces of baggage were put in the army vehicle, and in a short time we were driving to the border.

We were very soon in heavy traffic. It seemed as though the entire population of Belgium was eager to get out of the country. It was a pathetic sight to see that lost, bewildered look on the faces of so many. There were vehicles of all sorts, people on bicycles, some with wheelbarrows, some on foot—all with one purpose: to get away before the invading army caught up with them.

Major Merrivale was in complete command. He sat at the driver’s wheel and Annabelinda had contrived it so that she was in the front beside him. Miss Carruthers and I, with Edouard, sat in the back.

The major kept up a conversation most of the time. He told us that the British army was already coming into France.

“It won’t be long before we are driving the Germans back,” he said. “In the meantime, we have to prepare. We were all caught a little on the hop, as the saying goes, while the Germans had been planning this for years. The Kaiser was determined on it. He has been trying to get at us for years…ever since he sent that telegram of congratulations to Kruger at the time of the South African war—and that’s going back a bit. We shall have to teach him a lesson. Are you comfortable at the back?”

“Oh, yes, thanks,” we both said.

“And Monsieur Edouard?”

“He’s happy. He’s finding it all very amusing.”

“Wise child. That’s the right attitude.”

“It can’t be very amusing for these people who are leaving their homes,” I said.

“It will only be temporarily,” he replied. “Soon they will all be going back.”

“When do you think the Germans will reach Mons, Major?” asked Miss Carruthers.

“That’s hard to say, but if they keep up their present speed, I’d say in a week or so.”

“Is it as bad as that?”

“Oh, it was a foul thing to do…to plunge into a country which has nothing whatever to do with this…just because it is easy to get to the enemy that way. Poor little Belgium…completely without the means to resist. Never mind, we’ll soon make those Germans wish they hadn’t started this.”