"We will come back again when the Germans are gone, and in some
way I shall have a chance to send your boat to you, I know.
Meanwhile we will take good care of it."

"There will be few pleasure-seekers on the Vesle this summer,"
answered the boat-man, "and the Ark will be safer with you than
rotting at the pier, let alone the chance of its being blown up
by a shell. I'm glad you've got her, and glad you are going away
from Rheims. It will be easy pulling, for you're going down-
stream, and about all you'll have to do is to keep her headed
right. Au revoir, and good luck." He stood on the pier looking
after them and waving his hat until they were well out in the
middle of the stream.

Father Meraut had the oars, and, as his arms had not been
injured, he was able to guide the boat without fatigue, and soon
the current had carried them through the City and out into the
open country which lay beyond. Mother Meraut sat in the prow,
looking back toward the Cathedral she had so loved, until the
blackened towers were hidden from view by trees along the
riverbank. They had started early in order to be well out of
Rheims before the daily bombardment should begin.

Spring was already in the air, and as they drifted along they
heard the skylarks singing in the fields. The trees were turning
green, and there were blossoms on the apple trees. The wild
flowers along the riverbank were already humming with bees, and
the whole scene seemed so peaceful and quiet after all they had
endured in Rheims, that even the shell-holes left in the fields
which had been fought over in the autumn and the crosses marking