It was the last straw!  She put the cat out, yowling but unharmed, and silently cleared away the debris.  Then, when the bombardment was over, she put on her bonnet and went out.  She came back an hour later, to find the Twins sitting, one on each side of their Father, holding his hands, and all three the picture of despair.  Mother Meraut stood before them, her eyes flashing, her cheeks burning a deep red, and this is what she said:  “I will not live like this another day.  Life in Rheims is no longer possible.  I will not stay here to be killed by inches.  I have made arrangements to get a little row-boat, and to-morrow morning we will take such things as we can carry and leave this place.  Whatever may happen to us elsewhere, it cannot be worse than what is happening here, and it may possibly be better.”

Her husband and children looked at her in amazement.  She did not ask their opin- ion about the matter, but promptly began the necessary preparations and told them what to do.  Clothing was brought to Father Meraut to be packed in compact bundles and tied up with string.  Then blankets were made into another bundle; a third held a frying-pan, a coffee-pot, and a kettle, with a few knives, forks, and spoons, while a fourth contained food.  The Twins were sent to say good-by to Madame Coudert, and to give her a key to the door, and then all the rest of their household goods were packed away as carefully as time permitted, in the cellar.

Mother Meraut put the Twins to bed early, but she herself remained at work most of the night; yet when morning came and the children woke, she was up and neatly dressed, and had their breakfast ready.  She did not linger over their sad departure, nor did she shed a tear as they left the little house which had been their happy home.  Instead, she locked the door after them with a snap, put the key in her pocket, and walked down the steps with the grim determination of a soldier going into battle, carrying a big bundle under each arm.

VIII.  REFUGEES

The Twins and their Father followed the resolute figure of Mother Meraut down the street, not. knowing at all where she was leading them, but with implicit confidence that she knew what she was about.  She was carrying the heaviest bundles, and the Twins carried the rest between them, packed in a clothes-basket.  On her other arm Pierrette bore her dearly loved Jacqueline.  Father Meraut could carry nothing but such small articles as could be put in his pockets, but it was joy enough that he could carry himself, and it was quite wonderful to see how speedily he got over the ground with his crutch.

Not far from their house in the Rue Charly ran the River Vesle, which flows through Rheims, and as the Merauts knew well a man whose business it was to let boats to pleasure parties in summer, the children were not surprised to see their Mother walk down the street toward the little wharf where his boats were kept.  He was waiting to receive them, and, drawn up to the water’s edge was a red and white row-boat, with the name “The Ark” painted upon her prow.  Mother Meraut smiled when she saw the name.  “If we only had the animals to go in two by two, we should be just like Noah and his family, shouldn’t we?” she said, as she put the bundles in the stern.