This evening I had a letter from Villatte.

"He has found Maries Pierre," I said to Rosen. "The boy has been wounded. Hes in an army hospital, here in Paris. I want to bring him here, so that we can look after him properly."

"Is he seriously wounded?" Rosen asked.

"Villatte doesnt say. So I havent told Marie anything yet."

We went in my carriage to the hospital. Rosen knocked on the door. A soldier opened it and looked at me. He had only one arm.

"No visitors!" he said fiercely, and he shut the door.

Rosen knocked again, several times. At last the door opened once more. "I have permission to visit the hospital," I lied. And I went in with Rosen before the man could stop me.

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