Then in a very understandable zeal that I should miss nothing, the doctor _à deux galons_, espying a khaki figure, said, “There comes an American,” and I saw approaching a blond, round-faced young man with spectacles. Something leaped within me as I turned to him. But he answered me in the stiffest German accent possible, “Ja, pig news”; and when I said, “Yes, we’ve won the war!” he answered, “Well, I do t’ink we god ’um shust now.” Unreasonably, the thing that had leaped within me lay down. I said, “Good-by.” He said, “So long.” And so much for American meeting American on the hill of the village of Faverois. Laferrière had marched all through this country, _sac-au-dos_, and in one place he buried a comrade, and in another he knew hunger and thirst, and in another he had watched the day break after a night battle. There is a history to Faverois, too, but I don’t know it, and it’s just as well, for I would be sure to tell it in this long vigil, and I _must_ finish with the war. Back to Dannemarie, the chauffeur driving like the wind, and Lieutenant Ditandy finds out where the American officers have their headquarters. There is a battalion[24] attached to the Seventh French Army. I am conducted over a muddy street, past two classic dung-heaps, the kind so evidently handed down from father to son, and go up some dark backstairs, and there Colonel Wing and Major Griffiths are rung up by an orderly. I give my name, and they all know of me. In a moment appear, young and slim and untried and eager, the colonel and the major, glad to see an American woman in Dannemarie. And then they took me to their more than simple quarters out through another door and another court, where there was the usual mud, but only the scent of a vanished dung-heap. How many good American dollars they had “planked down” for this priceless compound I know not. After a while we walked back to the motor waiting in the square, and I presented them to the French officers. One of them said he had been at Plattsburg with my husband that first historic summer, and spoke of General Wood, whose aide he had then been, saying, with a flush, “He is the greatest man in the United States, as well as the greatest general,” and there in the square of Dannemarie I thought, “_Magna est veritas_,” and then, “Too late, too late.”