we are going to have breakfast. The cook
has succeeded in procuring some milk, and it is well she did, for we
are all in great need of something to warm our stomachs." And
notwithstanding his efforts to do so, he could not entirely repress his
delight and exultation. With a radiant countenance he added, lowering
his voice: "It is all right this time. General de Wimpffen has set out
again for the German headquarters to sign the capitulation."

Ah, how much those words meant to him, what comfort there was in them,
what relief! his horrid nightmare dispelled, his property saved from
destruction, his daily life to be resumed, under changed conditions, it
is true, but still it was to go on, it was not to cease! It was
little Rose who had told him of the occurrences of the morning at the
Sous-Prefecture; the girl had come hastening through the streets, now
somewhat less choked than they had been, to obtain a supply of bread
from an aunt of hers who kept a baker's shop in the quarter; it was
striking nine o'clock. As early as eight General de Wimpffen had
convened another council of war, consisting of more than thirty
generals, to whom he related the results that had been reached so far,
the hard conditions imposed by the victorious foe, and his own fruitless
efforts to secure a mitigation of them. His emotion was such that his
hands shook like a leaf, his eyes were suffused with tears. He was still
addressing the assemblage when a colonel of the German staff presented
himself, on behalf of General von Moltke, to remind them that, unless a
decision were arrived at by ten o'clock, their guns would open fire
on the city of Sedan. With this horrible alternative before them the
council could do nothing save authorize the general to proceed once more
to the Chateau of Bellevue and accept the terms of the victors. He must
have accomplished his mission by that time, and the entire French army
were prisoners of war.

When she had concluded her narrative Rose launched out into a detailed
account of the tremendous excitement the tidings had produced in the
city. At the Sous-Prefecture she had seen officers tear the epaulettes
from their shoulders, weeping meanwhile like children. Cavalrymen had
thrown their sabers from the Pont de Meuse into the river; an entire
regiment of cuirassiers had passed, each man tossing his blade over the
parapet and sorrowfully watching the water close over it. In the streets
many soldiers grasped their mus