k by the Prussians and the Russians, and then to come and
humiliate us, that was contemptible, and the older I grow the more I am
confirmed in that idea--it was shameful!

Zebede came to see us from time to time, and he knew all that was in
the gazette. It was from us that he first learned that the young
emigres had driven General Vandamme from the presence of the King.
This old soldier, who had just returned from a Russian prison, and whom
all the army respected in spite of his misfortune at Kulm, they
conducted from the royal presence, and told him that was not his place.
Vandamme had been colonel of a regiment at Pfalzbourg, and you cannot
imagine the indignation of the people at this news.

And it was Zebede who told us, that processes had been made out against
the generals on half-pay, and that their letters were opened at the
post, that they might appear like traitors. He told us a little
afterward that they were going to send away the daughters of the old
officers who were at the school of St. Denis and give them a pension of
two hundred francs; and later still, that the emigres alone would have
the right to put their sons in the schools at "St. Cyr" and "la Fleche"
to be educated as officers, while the people's sons would remain
soldiers at five centimes (one cent) a day for centuries to come.

The gazettes told the same stories, but Zebede knew a great many other
details--the soldiers knew everything.

I could not describe Zebede's face to you as he sat behind the stove,
with the end of his black pipe between his teeth, recounting all these
misfortunes. His great nose would turn pale, and the muscles would
twitch around the corners of his light gray eyes, and he would pretend
to laugh from time to time, and murmur, "It moves, it moves."

"And what do the other soldiers think of all this?" said Father Goulden.

"Ha! they think it is pretty well when they have given their blood to
France for twenty years, when they have made ten, fifteen, and twenty
campaigns, and wear three chevrons, and are riddled with wounds, to
hear that their old chiefs are driven from their posts, their daughters
turned out of the schools, and that the sons of those people are to be
their officers forever--that delights them, Father Goulden!" and his
face quivered even to his ears as he said this.

"That is terrible, certainly," said Father Goulden, "but discipline is
always discipline there. The marshals obey the ministers, and