"
There was yet another burden which she carried safely hidden in
her heart. She had not heard from her father and mother since the
Battle of the Marne. That the Germans had passed through the
village where they lived she knew, but what destruction they had
wrought she could only guess. It was impossible for her at that
time to go to them; so she waited in silence, hoping that some
time good news might come. The slow weeks lengthened into months,
and at last Father Meraut was strong enough to get about on a
crutch like Father Varennes. It was a great day when first he was
able to hobble down the steps and out upon the street, leaning on
Mother Meraut's arm on one side, and his crutch upon the other,
with Pierre and Pierrette marching before him like a guard of
honor.
It was now cold weather; winter had set in, and life became more
difficult as food grew scarce and there was not enough fuel to
heat the houses. School should have begun in October, but school-
buildings had not been spared in the bombardment, and it was
dangerous to permit children to stay in them. At last, however, a
new way was found to cheat the enemy of its prey. Schools were
opened in the great champagne cellars of Rheims, and Pierre and
Pierrette were among the first scholars enrolled. Every day after
that they hastened through the streets before the usual hour of
the bombardment, went down into one of the great tunnels cut in
chalk, and there, in rooms deep underground, carried on their
studies.
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