Another man comes and asks us for a crucifix. He manages to explain to me that he is engaged to be married, that perhaps to-morrow he will be killed, and he wants to send a souvenir to his young lady. We are glad to give him one. Before he goes, he wraps up his parcel, and in return offers to forward a letter to my brother by one of their messengers. At nightfall a platoon of English come down from Huiry to search the Aulnois woods. Germans have been seen there. Part of the men are detailed to beat the woods while the rest with astonishing agility and suppleness lie down on the ground and crawl away to hide, either lying flat or kneeling on the edge or inside of the ditch by the road. (This road is the continuation of Huiry Street towards the Aulnois woods, and is called Cat Lane.) If the Germans are driven out of the woods they will be obliged to go along this road. Our old friend kept his promise to come to the house, and we immediately set about preparing the hiding-place for our treasures. While he was digging in the garden I heard very distinctly in the garden next door, on the other side of the wall, a dull thud that sounded like someone falling, then the same noise a second time. Certainly two men had jumped over the wall into the garden. Our friend heard it too, and motioned to me to know if he was to continue. Keeping my eye on the wall, I nodded to him to go on. Hearing nothing more, I was tempted to go to the door in the garden wall that opens on the little woods to see if the English were continuing their search, so as to tell them to go into the garden next door. I don't know why I did not carry out this plan, unless because I was too much absorbed in putting the finishing touches to our hiding-place. It was lucky for me, possibly, for I might have found myself face to face with the Boches. The noises we heard were very likely made by two Germans jumping over the wall to escape being caught. While the English were watching for them in the road, they reached the garden from the rear, then Pavé-des-Roizes, and from there slipped away in single file in the direction of Demi-Lune. (I learned this detail from a woman who saw them.) FOOTNOTE: [1] After rendering various services during the Battle of the Marne, the annex at Pont-aux-Dames had to be closed. No official order came permitting us to receive wounded there. This order did not come until January, 1915, and then solely for Quincy, which has been in operation since that date as Auxiliary Hospital Number 112, under the intelligent and devoted direction of Madame René Benoist, President of the cantonal committee of the "Union of the Women of France." IX 5 September, 1914. THERE is no one left in the streets. The place is deserted. The English left this morning at three o'clock. Cannon are raging.