m Noirmont.

Moreover, the postman had heard from a gendarme that the railway-station
at the sub-prefecture was occupied by soldiers. He himself, when he left
Saint-Elophe, had seen army telegraphists on duty in the post-office.

These hasty measures fitted in with the rejection of the ultimatum and
went to prove the imminence of the dreaded catastrophe.

Philippe could not help saying:

"That means war."

"It's what I've been shouting from the house-tops for the last two
days!" proclaimed Victor, who seemed greatly excited. "Oughtn't we to
make preparations, here? At two steps from the frontier?"

But a bell rang. Catherine ran to the drawing-room, where Mme. Morestal
appeared:

"Where were you? I have been looking for you. Hasn't the doctor been?
Oh, there you are, Philippe! Quick, telephone to the doctor...."

"Is my father ...?"

"Your father is better; but, all the same, he's sleeping longer than he
ought.... It may be the morphia.... You had better telephone."

She left the room. Philippe was taking down the receiver, when some one
tapped him on the shoulder. It was Victor, whose excitement was
increasing every moment and who asked him with a perplexed air:

"What are we to do, M. Philippe? Are we going to stay here? Or go away
and shut up the house? The mistress does not realize ..."

And, without waiting for the answer, he turned round:

"Isn't it so, Catherine, the mistress does not realize.... The master's
quite well again.... Well, then, they should make up their minds!..."

"Of course, one must be prepared for everything," said the maid-servant.
"Suppose the enemy invade us?"

They both of them walked up and down the drawing-room, opening the
doors, shutting them again, making gestures through the window.

An old woman entered, an old woman who was employed at the Old Mill as
a charwoman. She waved her arms about:

"Is it true? Is it true? Are we going to war? And my son, the youngest,
who is with his regiment?... And the other, who is in the reserve?... Is
it true? No, tell me it's not true! It's all nonsense they're talking!"

"Nonsense, indeed!" said the gardener's wife, appearing on the scene.
"You'll soon see if it's nonsense!... They'll all have to go ... my
husband too, who's in the reserve of veterans."

She was accompanied by a child of three or four years old and in her
arms carried another, in swaddling-clothes, who was whimpering.

"Of course they'll have to go," said Victo