citement. They were all singing--they were like men beside
themselves."

"What did they sing, Monsieur le Cure?--Deutschland ueber alles'?"

"Oh, no, madame, not at all. They sang hymns. It was an extraordinary
sight. They seemed possessed. They were certain that in a few hours they
would be in Paris. They passed through the town, and then, just south of
the town, they stopped. Our people show the place. It was the nearest
they ever got to Paris.

"Presently, an officer, with an escort, a general apparently, rode
through the town, pulled up at the Hotel de Ville, and asked for the
Maire--angrily, like a man in a passion. But the Maire--M. Odent--was
there, waiting, on the steps of the Hotel de Ville.

"Monsieur Odent was my friend--he gave me his confidence. He had
resisted his nomination as Mayor as long as he could, and accepted it
only as an imperative duty. He was an employer, whom his workmen loved.
One of them used to say--'When one gets into M. Odent's employ, one
lives and dies there.' Just before the invasion, he took his family
away. Then he came back, with the presentiment of disaster. He said to
me--'I persuaded my wife to go. It was hard. We are much attached to
each other--but now I am free, ready for all that may come.'

"Well, the German general said to him roughly:

"'Is your town quiet? Can we circulate safely?'

"M. Odent said, 'Yes. There is no quieter town in France than Senlis.'

"'Are there still any soldiers here?'

"M. Odent had seen the French troops defiling through the town all the
morning. The bombardment had made it impossible to go about the streets.
As far as he knew there were none left. He answered, 'No.'

"He was taken off, practically under arrest, to the Hotel, and told to
order a dinner for thirty, with ice and champagne. Then his secretary
joined him and proposed that the _adjoints_, or Mayor's assistants,
should be sent for.

"'No,' said M. Odent, 'one victim is enough.' You see he foresaw
everything. We all knew what had happened in Belgium and the Ardennes.

"The German officer questioned him again.

"'Why have your people gone?--why are these houses, these shops, shut?
There must be lights _everywhere_--all through the night!'

"Suddenly--shots!--in the Rue de la Republique. In a few seconds there
was a furious fusillade, accompanied by the rattle of machine guns. The
officer sprang up.

"'So this is your quiet town, Monsieur le Maire! I arrest you, and you
sh