True, there were no idle soldiers to be seen strolling in couples or dawdling on benches. A patrol of _chasseurs à cheval_, in their pale blue jackets and black "tresses," walked their wiry horses across the square. Also, near the horse fountain, three anti-aircraft guns stood in the sunshine, their lean muzzles tilted high, the cannoniers lying on their blankets around them, and a single sentinel on guard, pacing the Place with his piece shouldered. At the further end of the rue d’Auros, where it enters the boulevard by the Church of Sainte Cassilda, cavalry were moving; and more sky artillery was visible in front of the church plaza. Otherwise the presence of troops was not noticeable in Ausone town.
Nor were Philippa and Warner particularly noticed or remarked, the girl’s provincial costume being a familiar sight in the region from Saïs to Dreslin. In fact, Warner’s knickers and Norfolk excited the only attention, and every now and then some man passing, and taking him for English, lifted his hat in cordial salutation to a comrade of an allied nation.
But for all the absence of animation and excitement in the Ausone streets, the deepening thunder of the cannonade began to preoccupy Warner; and finally he inquired what it signified of a passing line soldier, who stopped courteously and saluted.
"C’est le fort d’Ausone qui donne, Monsieur," he explained, bowing slightly to Philippa as he spoke.
"What!" exclaimed Warner. "Is the Ausone fort firing?"
"Since two hours, Monsieur. It would appear that affairs are warming up out there."
"_Dame_—they must see something to fire at," replied the soldier, laughing. "As for us here in the town, we know nothing. We others—we never know anything that happens until it is happening to us."
"From the Château at Saïs," said Warner, "one can see three towns on fire in the north."
"It is more than we soldiers can see from here, Monsieur. Yet we know it must be so, because people from Isly, from Rosales, from Dreslin, have been passing through from the north. They must have passed through Saïs."
The soldier saluted; Warner lifted his cap, and he and Philippa entered the Boule d’Argent, where, in a little, lace-curtained dining-room to the left, they seated themselves by the street window and ordered tea and sugar-buns.