What was he doing there? Why had he
remained? . . . But his obstinate temperament immediately put aside
the promptings of fear. He was there because he had to guard his own.
Besides, it was too late now to think about such things.
Suddenly the morning stillness was broken by a sound like the deafening
tearing of strong cloth. "Shots, Master," said the Warden. "Firing! It
must be in the square."
A few minutes after they saw running toward them a woman from the
village, an old soul, dried up and darkened by age, who was panting
from her great exertion, and looking wildly around her. She was fleeing
blindly, trying to escape from danger and shut out horrible visions.
Desnoyers and the Keeper's family listened to her explanations
interrupted with hiccoughs of terror.
The Germans were in Villeblanche. They had entered first in an
automobile driven at full speed from one end of the village to the
other. Its mitrailleuse was firing at random against closed houses and
open doors, knocking down all the people in sight. The old woman flung
up her arms with a gesture of terror. . . . Dead . . . many dead . . .
wounded . . . blood! Then other iron-plated vehicles had stopped in
the square, and behind them cavalrymen, battalions of infantry, many
battalions coming from everywhere. The helmeted men seemed furious; they
accused the villagers of having fired at them.
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