"
As if the slighted ghosts protested, there came a loud, reproachful wail
out of space. Everyone started, and stared in all directions. Then the
soberly clad, modern inhabitants of Nancy glanced skyward as they
crossed the square of Stanislas. Nobody hurried, yet nobody stopped.
Men, women, and children pursued their way at the same leisurely pace as
before, except that their chins were raised. I realized then that the
ghostly wail was the warning cry of a siren: "Take cover! Enemy
aeroplanes sighted!" But there was the monotony of boredom in the
voice, and in the air with which passers-by received the news.
"Oh, lord, here I go again!" the weary siren sighed.
"Third time to-day, _mon Dieu_!" grumbled a very old man to a very blase
porter, who dutifully shot out of the hotel to rescue our luggage, if
not us, from possible though improbable danger. We let him haul in our
bags, but remained glued to the pavement, utterly absorbed and
fascinated, waiting for the show to begin.
We had not long to wait! For an instant the pearl-pale zenith shone
serenely void. Then, heralded by a droning noise as of giant bees, and a
vicious spitting of shrapnel, high overhead sailed a wide-winged black
bird, chased by four other birds bigger, because nearer earth. They
soared, circling closer, closer--two mounting high, two flying low, and
so passed westward, while the sky was spattered with shrapnel--long,
white streaks falling slow and straight, like tail-feathers of a shot
eagle.
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