After a tour of inspection, on the following morning, of the interesting activities of the camp, we proceeded on our way to Domremy, the birthplace of Joan of Arc, where I wished to visit the church, which is a shrine to her memory. By this time I had discovered not only that my escort was a marquis, but, more surprising, that our chauffeur had been in private life a member of the Paris Bourse. The car in which we were riding belonged to him, and he had volunteered to do his bit for his country by putting the car at the Government’s service, and offering himself as its chauffeur. Captain Jaubert, in accordance with military traditions of discipline, had treated him, a mere sergeant, as impersonally as if he were another piece of the car’s mechanism. When we drew up at Joan of Arc’s Chapel, and dismounted to enter, I saw by his expression that he was as eager as I to see the interior of this famous shrine. The yearning look on his face, as he stood before the portals, which an absurd military convention forbade him to enter in company with us, who were no better than he, was too much for me to withstand. I asked Captain Jaubert to relax the rigours of discipline for the moment, and allow him to accompany us. The Captain acquiesced with characteristic French politeness, though I suspected he did not especially relish it; but the chauffeur’s appreciation was sufficient recompense for whatever slight damage was done to military tradition. The Captain himself had a fair grievance against military fate: he was a graduate of St. Cyr and had resigned from the army during the Dreyfus episode, with the result that he had had to reënter the army as a captain, while most of his classmates at the Military School were at least colonels and many of them generals. That night we reached Thann. We arrived about nightfall, and were met at the town boundary by the Mayor. He invited us to spend the night with him at his suburban home, as it was not safe for us to sleep in the town. I was ushered into the best room in his house, and found that the mirror in the bathroom, as well as the tub, was almost demolished. The Mayor explained that this damage had been done during the week, and that he had not had time to repair it. The next day was a great Catholic holiday, Assumption Day, and we were invited to attend the services at the church of St. Theobald. This spectacle was intensely interesting, because the parents of these people, though French by origin and sympathy, had been compelled by the Germans to rear their children in the German tongue, and consequently, though the first sermon of the celebration was delivered in French by a chaplain of the French army, a second sermon was then delivered in German by an old abbé. The French general explained to me that he saw no reason why he should deprive the inhabitants of the town of their religious comfort simply because they could not understand French.