THE PRISONLAS.

samg, this time 3 by Heaven, they would, or they would he burned therr walls.

So they had bought cannons and rifles, and equipped a 101(0 and formed battalions and companies, and Lhcy drilled all day long in the Place d’Armes. All of them - l)akub, vrocers, butchers, notaries, attorneys, carpen- ters, booksellers, cven the chemists —went Lhmu“h their manceuvres i due rotation at

regular hours, under the orders of M. Lavigne,

\\ho had once been a non-commissioned officer in the dragoons, and now was a draper, having married the daughter and inherited the shop of old M. Ravaudan.

He had taken the rank of majorin command of the place, and all the young men having conc to jomn the army, he enrolled all the ()thus who were cager for resistance. The stout men now walked the strects at the pace of professional pedestrians, - order to lnmu down their fat, and to lengthen their breath the weak ones carried l)ulduws, i order t() strengthen their muscles.

The Prussians were expected. Prussians did not appear. Yet they were not far off; for their scouts had already twice pushcd across the forest as far as Nicholas Pichou’s lodge.

The old keeper, who could run like a fox, had gone to warn the town. The guns had bCCll pointed, but the enemy had not shown.

The keeper's Todge served as a kind of out- post 1n the forest of Avcline. Twice a week the man went for provisions, and carried to the citizens news fi'(‘)m the outlying country.

He had gone that day to announce that a small (lgmghmcnt of German infantry had stopped at his house, the day before, about two in the afternoon, and had gone away again almost dircetly. 'The subaltern in command spoke Ifrench.

When the old man went on such errands he took with him his two dogs—two great beasts with the jaws of lons the wolves who were beginning to get fierce | and he left his two women, advismg them to lock themselves into the house as soon as night began to fall.

The young one was alraid of nothing, but thL old one kept on trembling and repeating

“Tt will turn out badly, all this sort of thing. You'll sce, 1t will turn out badly.”

T'his cvening she was more anxious cven than usual.

“Do you know what time your father will come back?” said she.

“Oh, not before cleven for certain. When he dines with the Major he s always late.”

She was hanging her saucepan over the

Dut the

~ beceause of

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firc to make the soup, when she stopped short, listened to a vague sound which had rcached her by way of the chimney, and murmured :—

“'There’s someone walking in the wood— seven or eight men at least.”

Her mother, alarmed, stopped her wheel and muttered : ““Oh, good Lord ! And father not here!”

She had not finished speaking when violent blows shook the door.

The women made no answer, and a loud cuttural voice called out: “Open the door.”

Then, after a pause, the same voice re- peated @ “Open the door, or I'll break it m.”

Then Berthine slipped into her pocket the big revolver from over the mantelpicee, and lmxm” put her car to the crack of the door, asked - Who arc you?”

The voice answered : “T am the detach- ment that came the other day.”

The woman asked again: “ What do you want ? 7

“1 have lost my way, cver since the morning, in the forest, with my detachment. Open the door, or I will break 1t m,”

The keeper’s wife had no choice ; she promptly drew the great bolt, and pulling hack the door she beheld six men in the pale snow-shadows—six Prussian men, the same who had come the day before. She said in a firm tone : “What do you want here at this time of night ?”

The officer answered @ T had lost my way, lost it completely ; T recognised the housc. [ have had nothing to eat since the morning, nOr my men uthu.

Berthine replied : mother, this evening.”

The b()ldlu, who secmed a good sort of fellow, answered : “That makes no difference. I shall not do any harm ; but you must give us something to eat. We are faint and tired to death.”

Ihc s wife stepped back.

“Come n,” sad she.

They came in, powdered with snow and with a sort of mossy cream on their helmets that made them look like meringues. ‘They scemed tired, worn out.

The young woman pointed to the wooden benehes on cach side of the big table.

“Sit down,” said she, “and 'l make you some soup. You do look quite knocked up.”

Then she bolted the door again.

She poured some more water into her sauccepan, threw in more butter and potatoes; then, unhooking a piece of bacon that hung

in the chimney, she cut off half, and added \ol iv.—4o0.

“ But T am all alone with