had known of their presence in the Château Yvonne for the past few days.
She felt a sudden premonition of evil. Who could be appearing at this hour to interrupt the effort of the Camp Fire girls to reach Paris in safety?
Mrs. Burton stepped out into the road with Peggy Webster following close behind her.
A cavalcade seemed to be approaching them. Yet there was nothing to suggest danger.
Nevertheless, the spectacle they now beheld was startling even in war times.
A pair of heavy cart horses were moving up the road, drawing a large farm wagon.
Two cows, laden like beasts of burden and hitched to the wagon, were coming on behind.
On the front seat of the wagon was a tall, gaunt spinster, an old man and a boy. Miss Patricia Lord was driving.
Inside the wagon, surrounded by bundles and boxes of varying sizes, were two girls, Sally Ashton and Vera Lagerloff.
As the wagon drew near, Miss Patricia Lord stood up and began waving a long stick.
“Polly Burton, why are you and the Camp Fire girls not already on the road toward Paris? Perhaps you have not heard the Germans are breaking through at different points all along the Allied line! I will give you just five minutes to be ready to go on with us!”
CHAPTER IV
The Road to Paris
With so extraordinary a combination of vehicles the journey of the Camp Fire girls and their guardians to Paris became necessarily a slow and frequently interrupted one.
In contrast with a recently built American motor car, Miss Patricia’s present equipage suggested nothing more modern than Noah and his admirable Ark.
Yet the two groups of friends and refugees wished to keep within reasonable distance of each other. They both appreciated that if ever they were separated for any distance, they might never be able to make connections again.
The roads were becoming constantly more crowded with an increasing stream of vehicles and travelers afoot, yet among them all no equipage was so remarkable as Miss Patricia’s, or excited more interest.
Upon leaving the Château Yvonne, a quarter of an hour after Miss Patricia’s belated arrival, there had been opportunity for only a hastily arranged program.
At that time the plan had been for Mary Gilchrist, following Yvonne Fleury’s instructions, to drive straight ahead. At any point in the road, where a change of direction should be made, or any special instruction given, Mary was to draw her car aside out of the way of the other vehicles, there to await Miss Patricia’s slower approach.
The program possessed a good many obvious weaknesses and yet in the few moments at their disposal before their departure, no one of the Camp Fire party had a better plan to suggest.
Rather surprisingly well it succeeded in the beginning.
Even without the knowledge of Miss Patricia’s clumsy caravan in the background, Mary Gilchrist would not have been able to drive rapidly.
When her car reached the main road, it was found to be not merely filled with refugees seeking safety further behind the line. Reinforcements were being rushed from the opposite direction to stem the German tide.
Advancing slowly the Camp Fire automobile took its place in the long line of other vehicles. Now and then this line was halted by an officer, when heavier trucks and wagons were to be allowed to pass.
Finally, at a convenient crossroad, where she did not interfere with the other traffic, Mary halted.
Within less than half an hour Miss Patricia reached them. There she insisted upon alighting, ostensibly to make certain inquiries and to offer her usual advice, but in reality to discover the state of Mrs. Burton’s health. No one was in the least deceived.
However, as Mrs. Burton insisted she was bearing the journey remarkably well and was far more interested than frightened and that the Camp Fire girls were in the same state of mind, Miss Patricia returned to her wagon and the pilgrimage was resumed.
Toward late afternoon, the effort at a second reunion was less successful.
It was now between four and five o’clock. A great wave of weariness and depression appeared to be engulfing not only the Camp Fire travelers, but the entire band of French refugees.
When they spoke at all to one another, it was only to tell some depressing story. Surely the Germans would capture Paris with this latest victorious assault. Some one reported that the Germans had perfected a long-range gun which would bombard Paris at a distance of seventy miles.
The Camp Fire girls became subject to the same state of despondency. They talked very little; moreover, it was plain to all of them that Mrs. Burton was reaching the end of her reserve strength. Some time before, she had ceased to have anything to say.
Without discussing the question, each one of the girls now understood that they could not travel much further until morning. Some arrangement must shortly be made for the night.
At five o’clock Mary Gilchrist and Yvonne Fleury, who were on the front seat of the motor, discovered a small private road which led from the main road into the yard of a small cottage. Here they concluded to await the second coming of Miss Patricia.
Mrs. Burton they established on the tiny veranda in the front of the house, to rest and at the same time to watch for the approach of the others, while the girls went to make investigations. The house they had chosen seemed to be entirely deserted.
Too tired to care what was going on about her, for some time Mrs. Burton sat huddled in her heavy fur coat. She was too exhausted even to care what became of herself or of anyone else.
At first she scarcely noticed that the Camp Fire girls had left her a long time alone, or that Miss Patricia had failed to appear. But when more than half an hour went by she began to feel nervous.
One could readily imagine that Miss Patricia’s collection of farm animals might have given out from their long march and be unable to continue the journey.
Mrs. Burton also began to worry over Sally Ashton and Vera. She had not been able to exchange a word with either of them on their arrival at the château, and knew nothing of their experiences in the last few days since they had said goodby at the farmhouse on the Aisne.
The March winds were growing piercingly cold now that the sun was dying down. Still the little groups of refugees kept moving on past the yard of the cottage where Mrs. Burton sat waiting.
Finally the travelers seemed to be growing fewer in number; they too must have become exhausted by their long pilgrimage and be taking shelter or else resting along the roadside.
Stiff from the cold and having remained seated so long, as no one of the Camp Fire girls came back to join her, Mrs. Burton at length rose and walked out of the yard of the cottage toward the main road. It might be possible that catching sight of Miss Patricia’s approach she would be relieved of her anxiety.
After strolling on for a few yards, Mrs. Burton observed a crowd of refugees who must have halted to rest. They were seated in small groups along either side of the road. Drawing nearer, Mrs. Burton saw that their faces wore that look of patient endurance, which in the past few months she had witnessed so many times in the faces of the
