“And the war, Mademoiselle, do you know anything about what has happened?”

Two great tears swelled to Mademoiselle’s eyes, which, however, bore a triumphant expression.

“Madame—­the French flag is flying over Mulhouse—­but it cost fifteen thousand lives!  That is official news.  I cannot give you further details nor say how I obtained what I have told you.”

Then the armies had met and war was now a bloody reality!

I shuddered.  Here was news of a victory and all we could do was weep!  Once again the sons of France had generously shed their blood to reconquer their righteous belongings!

I left Mademoiselle and rode home in silence.  Should I tell the villagers?  Why not?  But how?

The question answered itself, for as we approached the town hall I saw the school master and a number of elderly men seated on the bench beside the chain.  When we pulled up to give Cesar breathing spell, they all came clustering around the carriage.  Did I know anything?  Had I heard anything?

“Gentlemen,” I said, with a decided huskiness in my throat, “the French flag flies over, Mulhouse, but fifteen thousand men are hors de combat!”

Joy, followed almost instantaneously by an expression of sorrow, literally transfigured all their faces.  Tears sprang to the eyes of several, falling silently down their furrowed cheeks, and without uttering a word, as one man they all uncovered!  The respect for the glorious dead immediately abolished any desire for boisterous triumph.

There was no necessity to add any comment, so I continued my route to the chateau.

One night towards the end of the following week, I was awakened by the banging of doors and the shattering of window panes.  A violent storm had suddenly blown up and the wind was working havoc with unfastened blinds and shutters.  There was no use thinking of holding a candle or a lamp.  Besides, the lightning flashed so brightly that I was able to grope my way through the long line of empty rooms, tighten the fastenings, and shut the windows.  I had reached the second story without mishap and without hearing the slightest footstep within doors.  All my little servants were so exhausted that even the thunder had not roused them.  Presently, however, the sound of the gate bell broke on my ears.

“Pooh,” thought I.  “Some tree or branch has fallen on the wire.  Catch me getting wet going out to see what it is.”

The ringing continued, but more violently.  And at regular intervals.  I went down to the middle window and stuck my head out.  At the same moment, my dogs made one wild rush towards the gate and a woman’s voice called, “Madame Huard, ouvrez, s’il vous plait!”

By the light of another flash, I could distinguish a dripping figure in white.  “Bah! someone is ill or dying and wants me to telephone for a doctor!”

So I pulled the bell communicating with the servants’ quarters, threw on a few warmer clothes, and went below.  At the foot of the stairs I came upon George and Leon much disheveled, but wide awake.