My friends understood, and they who had not as yet seen a soldier since the war began, realized for the first time that they were now in the midst of the retreating army. I begged them to make ready for flight and they hurried homewards while I returned to the bakery to hold council. As I reached the door, someone touched me on the shoulder and an officer, pointing to the Red Cross armlet I was wearing, said: "Go to the hospital at once. We need your services. Wounded." "Very well, sir," I replied, and stepped inside. "Madame Guix! Madame Guix!" I called in the stairway from the shop. The others came clattering down all excitement, saying that Madame Guix had been recognized by her uniform and sent flying to the hospital. Just then a shadow barred the entrance door and turning I saw an army chauffeur standing there. "A piece of bread for God's sake," he begged. "What?" "Yes, I'm nearly dead of hunger. We've had no time to cook our food, and bread has been lacking for two days." I looked about me--the bread boxes were empty. I had no right to do so, but I opened all the cupboards. The least I could do was pay, if the bakers appeared. I found a stale loaf and chopped it in four with the big knife near the counter. The way that poor fellow bit into it brought tears to my eyes. "Wait a minute," I said as he turned away, and I rushed out to the court where my cart was standing. In a moment I was back with a slice of ham and some sweet chocolate and Julie came up with a glass of water. I was about to ask questions when another form appeared, followed by still another. "Bread--oh, for heaven's sake, bread!" they implored. Apparently there was no reason why I should not go on with my new trade until all the hungry chauffeurs in the army were satisfied. But remembering the wounded, I turned over my job to Julie, with orders to deal out the bread as long as it lasted and to go lightly with the chocolate, as my provision was not endless. What a different aspect the main square presented to that of an hour before! Motors were lined up four deep on all sides, and I was obliged to elbow my way through the crowds of gapers, refugees, and officers that thronged the street. "Have you come for the wounded?" questioned a white-capped sister as I closed the convent door and strode up the steps. "Yes, sister." "Heaven be praised! Come this way, quickly. Your nurse is here, but cannot suffice alone. We're of no use--there are only five of us to look after the almshouse, and a hundred refugees. We know nothing of surgery or bandaging."