Heavy ration trucks and hospital ambulances, superbly appointed, line the road.

The soldiers are splendidly set up and perfectly equipped. Spruce, shining, freshly shaved, they are as clean and correct when they present themselves to us as if they had just stepped out of a bandbox. They are very reserved in speech, and do not talk much unless we question them. Even so, we have to be careful not to put indiscreet questions.

On our asking: "Where are the Germans?" "Far, far away," they answer, with a wave of the hand. They do their best to reassure us and gaily begin whistling "Tipperary."

Their coolness allays our fears.

This afternoon the detachment of Hussars stationed at Meaux marched by. People were already uneasy, and after that they were more than ever convinced that it was time to flee. This evening everyone is impatient to be off.

Esbly is already evacuated. A few Scotch troops are beginning to arrive there.

Neufmontiers, Penchard, Dammartin, all the communes in the immediate vicinity of Meaux, are evacuated. Official records of real estate, also birth, marriage, and death registers, and the municipal archives have been removed to the quarries of Mareuil, along with the arms deposited by civilians.

Departures are growing more frequent. People in Quincy are preparing to go, likewise some of the inhabitants of Voisins. The mayor and the curÉ have already been mobilized.

Are we alone to remain behind?

Before leaving, everyone wants to save his most treasured possessions. Mattresses, beds, old furniture—the most absurd and unlikely things—are carried from one end of the village to the other to be hidden in the underground passages which abound in Voisins and Huiry.

Holes are dug to contain barrels crammed with linen and household goods. In all this extraordinary activity there is very little reason or method. People are half crazed. They even hide furniture and various other objects in the tunnels of the plaster quarries!

To abandon one's home seems like deserting a friend. And yet we shall have to consider it, for we may be forced to go. I promised my brother to see that his wife and children were removed to a place of safety in case of danger. We are none of us terrified as yet. Though I have a feeling that the battle will not come as far as this, I am doing all I can to persuade my mother to leave. It is only when I speak of the safety of the children that I succeed in shaking her determination to stay. Meanwhile, the danger does not seem imminent, and we keep putting off our departure till the morrow.

At the turning of the road that leads from Demi-Lune to Voisins, on the hilltop overlooking the valley of the Marne, one of the humble dwellings of the hamlet of Huiry was transformed a few months ago into a beautiful cottage. It is two stories high, with a pointed and irregular roof, but most graceful in its whole effect. It is here that an American lady came to live in the early months of this year, hoping to pass in this solitary spot calm and peaceful days.

Miss Aldrich, a woman of courageous soul and great heart, is an unspeakable consolation to the little group of women who have remained near her. Filled with the most generous sentiments, giving lavishly of her sympathy and guidance, she charms all who come in contact with her.

I go to see Miss Aldrich every day. Her conversation delights me and her qualities of mind and heart fill me with admiration. By her force of character in the tragic hours we are living through she helps us to rise above emotions that at times nearly sweep us off our feet.

If a bit of good news reaches her, I am sure to see her come hurrying down the hill towards our house to talk over with us what she has just learned.

She is truly French at heart, and knows just what to say to make us feel the same confidence she feels herself. If, before she came, we were beginning to waver, we discover after she has been here that we are once more strong and brave.

Will you allow me, Miss Aldrich, to pay you the tribute of my admiration for the lofty courage you have shown, and to express to you my gratitude for the comfort you have given my family during these early days of September?

We learned from Captain Simpson at Miss Aldrich's that German patrols had crossed the Marne in advance of the English. English aviators have seen them. Can it be that the horses we have been hearing for several nights back belong to these patrols?

The soldiers of the King's Own Yorkshire Regiment mount guard until 6 P.M. in Voisins and also along the canal that joins the Marne to the Morin. At that time Captain Simpson suddenly receives marching orders and starts off at once in the direction of CrÉcy. The Yorkshiremen are promptly replaced by a regiment of Bedfordshire Light Infantry.

General French and the English General Staff are at Villeneuve-le-Comte, it is said. Motorcycle messengers maintain communications between the various English corps that surround us.