The bombs were falling nearer. A child in one of the wards woke up and began to wail fretfully. No one heeded her. There was a flash and then a tearing thud that shook the hospital. I had one ghastly moment, a thrill of panic terror at our utter helplessness as we lay there awaiting what seemed the inevitable coming of destruction. The moment passed. I got up and slipped down the side corridor to the glass door. The sky was full of moving lights; some burned with a steady brilliancy, some flickered and went out like fireflies, a few flashed red. There was no telling which was friend or foe. They seemed to be proceeding in all directions without plan or purpose. The air pulsated with the humming drone of their motors. They were like a swarm of angry hornets I thought. Across the road, standing on the top of a high wall, in sharp silhouette against the sky, three poilus stood to watch. Every now and then an _infirmière_, curiosity outweighing caution, would leave her hiding-place and creep to the door beside me only to burrow like a bug, a moment later, underneath her mattress once more. “_Mees! N’avez-vous pas peur?_” “_Mais non!_” “_Ah, vous êtes un soldat!_” I went back to my room and climbed out on the window-sill. At first I thought the lights of Paris had been turned on again, but this time they were color of rose. As I looked the pink flush deepened, grew ruddy, flamed across the sky. I called the night nurse. “_C’est une incendie_,” she wailed staccato. “_Quel malheur!_” So Paris was on fire. As we watched two big puffs of white smoke rose over the munitions factory, spread into a cloud, drifted slowly toward us. The night nurse sniffed, then shut the window hurriedly. “_La gaz_,” she whispered. I questioned it but left the window shut. An aeroplane swung low over the munitions factory, so near that it looked like a great lazy fish with the rose light from below shining on its belly. Was it friend or enemy? The bombs were dropping close again. One could see the flashes and feel the jar of the explosions which made the windows rattle. “_Oh les sales Boches!_” “_Oh la la!_” The agonized wails sounded half stifled from beneath the mattresses. “_Taisez! Écoutez!_” It was the night nurse’s voice.