A group was formed round him. The men listened anxiously. He pulled a face. Was he rotting, or speaking the truth? We never thought of interrupting. However someone did take it upon himself. It was De Valpic, whom no one had counted on. "That'll do, Playoust! No tomfoolery!" The other was quite taken aback. Guillaumin and I saw the danger, and went to the rescue, turning his tales to ridicule. He tried to back out of it. The men were reassured, and began to laugh, and our own confidence was strengthened by it too. Yes, but what were we waiting for here? For orders, always orders! They were delayed for a good while longer, and when they did arrive, dumbfounded us! We were to fall back on Étain. There was nothing to be done but obey, so we retraced our steps along the road we had followed so gaily the day before. Dissimulation was no longer possible. We caught up and mingled with the sad troops of fugitives. As long as the darkness lasted, we only half-realised what it meant. But what a ghastly vision of distress the daybreak brought us! A dismal procession of women, children, and old men, many of them on foot, laden with packages and bags, or pulling and pushing wheelbarrows and hand-carts--the others huddled _pêle-mêle_ in conveyances of all ages, shapes, and sizes, drawn by oxen, donkeys, and dogs. The whole populace, as Playoust had said, people hurrying along, elbowing their way, getting hung up, and delayed. Their heads were hanging, and they did not answer the stream of questions which burst from our ranks. Babies' tears, and mothers' sighs. Every other minute a cyclist, or a staff car cleared a way for itself, tooting and cursing.... And I remember an old, a very old peasant, perched on a big tilted cart brandishing his pitch-fork and shouting to us, as he pointed in the opposite direction: "That's where they be, you slackers!" I was glad when, by eight o'clock, we had out-distanced the gloomy horde, by our regular pace. But a long halt on the outskirts of Étain condemned us to being caught up again by the mournful stream which flowed all day. In the evening we set off again, and once more went through the little town. How it had changed since the day before! Consternation reigned. We asked: "What's happening?" "They are there!" was the reply. "There!" One would have thought they meant a hundred yards away! The inhabitants were turning out. I can see a well-dressed old woman, in mourning, on the pavement in front of her house, loading a waggon--her maid was helping her--with a confused medley of furniture, ornaments, clothes. "You needn't be in such a bloomin' hurry, Mother," shouted Judsi; "can't you see we're here!" "You won't stop them," she retorted. "Oh, steady on!" She raised her voice till it became a shriek: "You won't stop them, I tell you! It's just like it was in 1870!" She raised her gaunt arm, her piercing voice carried well. "Old witch!" growled Guillaumin.