In normal times a branch road would have taken him on to Villeblanche, but the service was now suspended for lack of a train crew.

The employees had been transferred to the lines crowded with the war transportation.
In vain he sought, with most generous offers, a horse, a simple cart drawn by any kind of old beast, in order to continue his trip.
The mobilization had appropriated the best, and all other means of transportation had disappeared with the flight of the terrified.

He would have to walk the eight miles.

The old man did not hesitate.
Forward March! And he began his course along the dusty, straight, white highway running between an endless succession of plains.

Some groups of trees, some green hedges and the roofs of various farms broke the monotony of the countryside.