ow and then the footsteps of a patrol
making the rounds, the clash of muskets or swords, reminded them that
they were within the military zone.

That was the outlook so vaunted by Planus--a melancholy outlook if ever
there were one.

"And now good-night. Sleep well!"

But, as the old cashier was leaving the room, his friend called him
back:

"Sigismond."

"Here!" said Sigismond, and he waited.

Risler blushed slightly and moved his lips like a man who is about to
speak; then, with a mighty effort, he said:

"No, no-nothing. Good-night, old man."

In the dining-room the brother and sister talked together a long while
in low tones. Planus described the terrible occurrence of the evening,
the meeting with Sidonie; and you can imagine the--"Oh! these
women!" and "Oh! these men?" At last, when they had locked the little
garden-door, Mademoiselle Planus went up to her room, and Sigismond made
himself as comfortable as possible in a small cabinet adjoining.

About midnight the cashier was aroused by his sister calling him in a
terrified whisper:

"Monsieur Planus, my brother?"

"What is it?"

"Did you hear?"

"No. What?"

"Oh! it was awful. Something like a deep sigh, but so loud and so sad!
It came from the room below."

They listened. Without, the rain was falling in torrents, with the
dreary rustling of leaves that makes the country seem so lonely.

"That is only the wind," said Planus.

"I am sure not. Hush! Listen!"

Amid the tumult of the storm, they heard a wailing sound, like a sob, in
which a name was pronounced with difficulty:

"Frantz! Frantz!"

It was terrible and pitiful.

When Christ on the Cross sent up to heaven His despairing cry: 'Eli,
eli, lama sabachthani', they who heard him must have felt the same
species of superstitious terror that suddenly seized upon Mademoiselle
Planus.

"I am afraid!" she whispered; "suppose you go and look--"

"No, no, we will let him alone. He is thinking of his brother. Poor
fellow! It's the very thought of all others that will do him the most
good."

And the old cashier went to sleep again.

The next morning he woke as usual when the drums beat the reveille
in the fortifications; for the little family, surrounded by barracks,
regulated its life by the military calls. The sister had already risen
and was feeding the poultry. When she saw Sigismond she came to him in
agitation.

"It is very strange," she said, "I hear nothing stirring in Mons