-master told me so."

He gave a start:

"What! Do you mean to say you still speak to that dastard?"

"He's quite a decent man," she replied.

"He! A decent man! With theories like his!"

She hurried from the room, to escape the explosion. But Morestal was
fairly started:

"Yes, yes, theories! I insist upon the word: theories! As a
district-councillor, as Mayor of Saint-Elophe, I have the right to be
present at his lessons. Oh, you have no idea of his way of teaching the
history of France!... In my time, the heroes were the Chevalier d'Assas,
Bayard, La Tour d'Auvergne, all those beggars who shed lustre on our
country. Nowadays, it's Mossieu Etienne Marcel, Mossieu Dolet.... Oh, a
nice set of theories, theirs!"

He barred the way to his wife, as she entered the room again, and roared
in her face:

"Do you know why Napoleon lost the battle of Waterloo?"

"I can't find that large breakfast-cup anywhere," said Mme. Morestal,
engrossed in her occupation.

"Well, just ask your school-master; he'll give you the latest up-to-date
theories about Napoleon."

"I put it down here, on this chest, with my own hand."

"But there, they're doing all they can to distort the children's
minds."

"It spoils my set."

"Oh, I swear to you, in the old days, we'd have ducked our school-master
in the horse-pond, if he had dared.... But, by Jove, France had a place
of her own in the world then! And such a place!

... That was the time of Solferino!... Of Magenta!... We weren't
satisfied with chucking down frontier-posts in those days: we crossed
the frontiers ... and at the double, believe me...."

He stopped, hesitating, pricking up his ears. Trumpet-blasts sounded in
the distance, ringing from valley to valley, echoing and re-echoing
against the obstacles formed by the great granite rocks and dying away
to right and left, as though stifled by the shadow of the forests.

He whispered, excitedly:

"The French bugle...."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, there are troops of Alpines manoeuvring ... a company from
Noirmont.... Listen ... listen.... What gaiety!... What swagger!... I
tell you, close to the frontier like this, it takes such an air...."

She listened too, seized with the same excitement, and asked, anxiously:

"Do you really think that war is possible?"

"Yes," he replied, "I do."

They were silent for a moment. And Morestal continued:

"It's a presentiment with me.... We shall have it all over again, as in
1870