breath. "They are
shelling the champagne cellars and the public buildings of the City to
scare us into giving them what they demand. The German Army will soon
be here."

In a few moments there was a lull in the roar of the guns, and then in
the distance another sound was heard. It was a mighty song of triumph
as the conquerors came marching into Rheims!

"There won't be any more shooting for a while anyway," said the
stranger, who had now recovered his breath. "They won't shell the City
while it's full of their own men. I'm going to see them come in."

All Pierre's fears vanished in an instant. "Come on," he cried, wild
with excitement; "let us go too."

"I'll not stir a foot from my shop," said Madame Coudert firmly. "I
don't want to see the Germans, and if they want to see me, they can
come where I am."

But Pierre had not waited for a reply, from her or any one else. He was
already running up the street.

"Catch him, catch him," gasped Mother Meraut.

Pierrette dashed after Pierre, and as she could run like the wind, she
soon caught up with him and seized him by the skirt of his blouse.
"Stop! stop!" she screamed. "Mother doesn't want you to go."

But she might as well have tried to argue with a hurricane. Pierre
danced up and down with rage, as Pierrette braced herself, and firmly
anchored him by his blouse. "Leggo, leggo!" he shrieked. "I'm going, I
tell you! I'm not afraid of any Germans alive."

Just then, panting and breathless, Mother Meraut arrived upon the
scene. While Pierrette held on to his blouse, she attached herself to
his left ear. It had a very calming effect upon Pierre. He stopped
tugging to get away lest he lose his ear.

"Foolish boy," said his Mother, "see how much trouble you give me! You
shall see the Germans, but you shall not run away from me. If we should
get separated, God only knows whether we should ever find each other
again."

The music had grown louder and louder, and was now very near. "I'll
stay with you, if you'll only go," pleaded Pierre, "but you aren't even
moving."

"Come, Pierrette," said his Mother, "take hold of his left arm. I will
attend to his right; he might forget again. What he really needs is a
bit and bridle!"

The three moved up the street, Pierre chafing inwardly, but helpless in
his Mother's grasp, and at the next crossing the great spectacle burst
upon them. A whole regiment of cavalry was passing, singing at the top
of their lungs, "Lieb' Vater