CHAPTERXVIII

chapterxviii

isupposeitwasthreemonthslaterwhenisawthefirstcrowdscomingbacktotheirhomesinamiens.thetidehadturnedandtheenemywasinhardretreat.amienswassafeagain!theyhadneverhadanydoubtofthishomecomingafterthatdaynearlythreemonthsbefore,when,inspiteoftheenemy'sbeingsoclose,fochsaid,inhiscalmway,“iguaranteeamiens.”theybelievedwhatmarshalfochsaid.healwaysknew.sonowtheywerecomingbackagainwiththeirlittlebundlesandtheirbabiesandsmallchildrenholdingtheirhandsorskirts,accordingastheyhadreceivedpermitsfromthefrenchauthorities.theyweretheluckyoneswhosehousesstillexisted.theywereconsciousoftheirowngoodfortuneandcamechatteringverycheerfullyfromthestationupthestreetofthethreepebbles,ontheirwaytotheirstreets.buteverynowandthentheygaveacryofsurpriseanddismayatthedamagedonetootherpeople'shouses.

“olala!regardezca!c'estaffreux!”

therewasthebutcher'sshop,destroyed;andthehouseofpoorlittlemadeleine;andoldchristopher'sworkshop;andthemilliner'splace,wheretheyusedtobuytheirsundayhats;andthatfrightfulgapwherethearcadehadbeen.truly,pooramienshadsufferedmartyrdom;though,thankgod,thecathedralstillstoodinglory,hardlytouched,withonlyonelittleshellholethroughtheroof.

terriblewasthedamageuptheruedebeauvaisandthestreetsthatwentoutofit.toonerubbishheapwhichhadbeenacornerhousetwogirlscameback.perhapsthefrenchauthoritieshadnothadthatoneontheirlist.thegirlscametrippinghome,withlightintheireyes,staringaboutthem,ejaculatingpityforneighborswhosehouseshadbeendestroyed.thensuddenlytheystoodoutsidetheirownhouseandsawthatthedirecthitofashellhadknockedittobits.thelightwentoutoftheireyes.theystoodtherestaring,withtheirmouthsopen...someaustraliansoldiersstoodaboutandwatchedthegirls,understandingthedrama.

“bitofamess,missy!”saidoneofthem.“notmuchleftoftheoldhome,eh?”

thegirlswereamazinglybrave.theydidnotweep.theyclimbedupahillockofbricksandpulledoutbitsofold,familiarthings.theyrecoveredthewholeofachild'sperambulator,withitswheelscrushed.withanairoftriumphandshrilllaughtertheyturnedroundtotheaustralians.

“pourlesbebes!”theycried.

“whilethere'slifethere'shope,”saidoneoftheaustralians,withsardonichumor.

sothemartyrdomofamienswasatanend,andlifecamebacktothecitythathadbeendead,andthesoulofthecityhadsurvived.ihavenotseenitsincethen,butonedayihopeishallgobackandshakehandswithgastonthewaiterandsay,“commentcava,monvieux?”(“howgoesit,myoldone?”)andstrollintothebookshopandsay,“bonjour,mademoiselle!”andwalkroundthecathedralandseeitsbeautyinmoonlightagainwhennoonewilllookupandsay,“cursethemoon!”

therewillbemanyghostsinthecityatnight—theghostsofbritishofficersandmenwhothrongedthosestreetsinthegreatwarandhavenowpassedon.