'Where else shall we go now?' the elder girl demanded, turning to her little company. They fell into discussion. One preferred the broad street with trees, another the railway station; but when she suggested an Emperor's palace, they agreed with her. 'We will go then,' she said, and added half apologetically to Frau Ebermann, 'You see, they are so little they like to meet all the others.' 'What others?' said Frau Ebermann. 'The others--hundreds and hundreds and thousands and thousands of the others.' 'That is a lie. There cannot be a hundred even, much less a thousand,' cried Frau Ebermann. 'So?' said the girl politely. 'Yes. _I_ tell you; and I have very good information. I know how it happened. You should have been more careful. You should not have run out to see the horses and guns passing. That is how it is done when our troops pass through. My son has written me so.' They had clambered down from the sofa, and gathered round the bed with eager, interested eyes. 'Horses and guns going by--how fine!' some one whispered. 'Yes, yes; believe me, _that_ is how the accidents to the children happen. You must know yourself that it is true. One runs out to look--' 'But I never saw any at all,' a boy cried sorrowfully. 'Only one noise I heard. That was when Aunt Emmeline's house fell down.' 'But listen to me. _I_ am telling you! One runs out to look, because one is little and cannot see well. So one peeps between the man's legs, and then--you know how close those big horses and guns turn the corners--then one's foot slips and one gets run over. That's how it happens. Several times it had happened, but not many times; certainly not a hundred, perhaps not twenty. So, you see, you _must_ be all. Tell me now that you are all that there are, and Anna shall give you the cakes.' 'Thousands,' a boy repeated monotonously. 'Then we all come here to wait till our people come for us.' 'But now we will go away from here. The poor lady is tired,' said the elder girl, plucking his sleeve. 'Oh, you hurt, you hurt!' he cried, and burst into tears. 'What is that for?' said Frau Ebermann. 'To cry in a room where a poor lady is sick is very inconsiderate.' 'Oh, but look, lady!' said the elder girl. Frau Ebermann looked and saw. '_Au revoir_, lady.' They made their little smiling bows and curtseys undisturbed by her loud cries. '_Au revoir,_ lady. We will wait till our people come for us.' When Anna at last ran in, she found her mistress on her knees, busily cleaning the floor with the lace cover from the radiator, because, she explained, it was all spotted with the blood of five children--she was perfectly certain there could not be more than five in the whole world--who had gone away for the moment, but were now waiting round the corner, and Anna was to find them and give them cakes to stop the bleeding, while her mistress swept and garnished that Our dear Lord when He came might find everything as it should be. Mary Postgate (1915)