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Updated: June 25, 2025
Fred, looking as black as a thundercloud, took me to the station, and was preposterous enough to ask me if I was not sorry I was going." "And what did you say?" "Say? Why, the truth that I was glad; and then Mr. Thundercloud looked blacker than ever. "I had several stations to pass before we reached Creil, where I was to change cars and take the express.
"The old man looked aghast at the proposition, and pointed to the long line of high thick hedge that bordered it on each side. "'How could you leave the track if you did get to Creil? They are locked up there for the night. Besides, you would be crushed by passing trains, and you would be fined too, for it is against the law.
There was that night, for instance, late in the August of 1914, when three of us were getting away from Creil. It was time to go. We were not soldiers. Lying on the floor of a railway carriage I tried to sleep, pillowed involuntarily on someone's boot. I never knew to whom that foot belonged, for the compartment was chaos, like the world.
At Creil, where we stopped to lunch, we left the canoes in another floating lavatory, which, as it was high noon, was packed with washerwomen, red-handed and loud-voiced; and they and their broad jokes are about all I remember of the place. I could look up my history-books, if you were very anxious, and tell you a date or two; for it figured rather largely in the English wars.
"'It is of no use of no use whatever: they will not open, finally said my exhausted companion. "'Is there no other inn here? "'No: you will have to return. "'Then you must take me to Creil. "'That I can't do. I have been away too long already: there is a freight-train expected, and I must see that the track is clear. We must go back; and he turned resolutely and led the way.
She has cause. I shall never forget looking into the very depths of her sorrow when I was at Creil. A great drive was in progress, the wounded were being brought down from the front, troops hurried forward. Four different regiments passed as I sat at déjeuner. The restaurant, full of its noonday patrons, was a typical French café giving on the street.
I see it as plainly, I say, as a proposition in Euclid, that my Protestant mind has missed the point, and that there goes with these deformities some higher and more religious spirit than I dream. I wonder if other people would make the same allowances for me! Like the ladies of Creil, having recited my rosary of toleration, I look for my indulgence on the spot. We made Precy about sundown.
Not since she had thrown in her lot with an unspeakable villain, joining and abetting him in a vile plot against the man to whom she was bound by the strongest ties in life by loyalty, affection, honour, truth. "I hate going back there," she told herself, as the Calais express whirled her through Abbeville, Amiens, Creil. "Hate it, dread it, more than I can say."
"They won't send him farther than Creil," another said. "The wires are up all the way from Creil down." "You never can tell whether they'll stay up or not not with this seventy-five mile bean-shooter Fritzie's playing with. Ever been to Paris, kid?" "No, but I s'pose I'll be sent there now maybe," Tom answered. "They'll keep you moving up this way, all right.
On September 2 the Germans had reached Creil and Senlis staining their honour in these two places by unnecessary cruelty and were no further than thirty miles from Paris, so that the shock of their guns might be heard as vague vibrations in the capital.
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