Doors and windows no longer existed--the former had been dashed to splinters by the butt ends of guns, while the latter were shattered to powder and from their apertures swung bed clothing, personal adornment and household belongings in shreds and tatters--all willfully soiled by mud and filth. It was useless to try to drive our cart up the main street, so calling a passing comrade, my detainers bid him hold my horse until they returned after having _fait leur affaire_, as they expressed it. The plate glass windows of every store lay in thousands of pieces below their sashes, and the entire stock of merchandise whether furniture or drapery, groceries or dairy products, had been hurled through them into the middle of the thoroughfare. Above these were piled pell-mell bedding and chairs, wardrobes and wash basins, all splintered and broken--the whole making the most pitiable conglomeration I ever hope to witness. One plucky dealer was already boarding up the great yawning cavities that were once show windows, and here and there a frightened female face peeped out from behind the ruins of her commerce. "Madame Huard!" cried a familiar voice behind me. "_Mon Dieu_--you!" I turned and recognized my pastry baker's wife. "_Oui, moi; arretee._" "Arrested!" "Yes, unless you will be good enough to inform these gentlemen who I am?" "_Est-il possible! Est-il possible!_ Why, of course, I know you--how dare they!" "You see," I said, turning to the _auxilaires_. But they were inflexible, bidding my friend follow on if she could swear to my identity. She obeyed, but our group had attracted the attention of a couple of small boys who darted out of an alley way like rats from a cellar, calling, "_L'espionne--l'espionne!_" Thank fortune, at that instant we came upon an officer, whom I accosted at a distance, explained my case and produced my card and my pastry baker. He understood in a moment, and hastily discharged my custodians. "I cannot scold them. They're over zealous, but we've been so horribly betrayed all along. You understand, I'm sure. Please accept my apologies, Madame!" I bowed and he departed. Then I turned to my friend. "You've heard the news, I suppose, Madame?" "No--what?" She suddenly grew white. "Quick--out with it, woman!" She hesitated. "Is H.--?" "_Non_, not that, Madame, but a quarter of an hour ago it was noised about that the enemy are still retreating, and that we were pounding into their headquarters--le chateau de Villiers." I felt myself whitening. The woman saw it, and catching me by the arm. "Come, come," she said. "You're tired; perhaps it isn't true, so many false alarms have been launched. Come and have a cup of coffee--you'll excuse our back room--it's all we have left."