There was a report, and a puff of smoke far away over the City, then the sound of a distant explosion. The daily bombardment had begun! "Your friends are firing a farewell salute," said Father Meraut. All the morning they slipped quietly along between greening banks, carried by the current farther and farther down-stream. At noon they drew the boat ashore beneath some willow trees, where they ate their lunch, and then spent an hour in such rest as they had not had for many weary months. It was then, and not until then, that Father Meraut ventured to ask his wife her plans. "My dear," he said, as he stretched himself out in a sunny spot and put his head in Pierrette's lap, "I have great confidence in you, and will follow you willingly anywhere, but I should really like to know where we are going." Mother Meraut looked at him in surprise. "Why, haven't I told you?" she said "My mind has been so full of it I can't believe you didn't know that we are going to my father's, if we can get there! You know their village is on a little stream which flows into the Aisne some distance beyond its junction with the Vesle. We could drift down to the place where the two rivers join, and go on from there to the little stream which flows past Fontanelle. Then we could row up-stream to the village." "It's as plain as day, now you tell it," answered her husband, "and a very good plan, too." "You see," said Mother Meraut, as she packed away the remains of the lunch, "I haven't heard a word from them all winter. I don't know whether they are dead or alive. I haven't said anything about it, because you were so ill and there were so many other worries, but this plan has been in my mind all the time. What we shall do when we get to Fontanelle I do not know, but we shall be no worse off than other refugees, and at any rate we shall not be under shell-fire every day." "If we can't find any place to stay there, why can't we go on and on down the river, until we get clear to the sea," said Pierre with enthusiasm. "It's just like being gypsies, isn't it?" added Pierrette. "So far as I can see," said Mother Meraut, "we've got to go on and on! Certainly we can't go back." "No, we can't go back," echoed her husband, with a sigh. All the pleasant afternoon they drifted peacefully along, and nightfall found them in open country. It began to grow colder as darkness came on. "We shall need all our blankets if we are to sleep in the fields," said Mother Meraut at last. "It's time for supper and bed, anyway. Let's go ashore." "We'll build a fire on the bank and cook our supper there," said her husband. "What is there, Mother, that we can cook?" "There are eggs to fry, and potatoes to roast in the ashes," she answered, "and coffee besides." "I am as hungry as a wolf," said Pierrette. "I'm as hungry as two wolves," said Pierre.