finite. The Government, too, was issuing communications of
vague and rhetorical verbosity. Desnoyers became alarmed, his instinct
warning him of danger. "There is something wrong," he thought. "There's
a spring broken somewhere!"

This lack of encouraging news coincided exactly with the sudden rise in
Dona Elena's spirits. With whom had that woman been talking? Whom did
she meet when she was on the street? . . . Without dropping her pose
as a martyr, with the same woebegone look and drooping mouth, she was
talking, and talking treacherously. The torment of Don Marcelo in being
obliged to listen to the enemy harbored within his gates! . . . The
French had been vanquished in Lorraine and in Belgium at the same time.
A body of the army had deserted the colors; many prisoners, many cannon
were captured. "Lies! German exaggerations!" howled Desnoyers. And
Chichi with the derisive ha-ha's of an insolent girl, drowned out the
triumphant communications of the aunt from Berlin. "I don't know, of
course," said the unwelcome lodger with mock humility. "Perhaps it is
not authentic. I have heard it said." Her host was furious. Where had
she heard it said? Who was giving her such news? . . .

And in order to ventilate his wrath, he broke forth into tirades against
the enemy's espionage, against the carelessness of the police force in
permitting so many Germans to remain hidden in Paris. Then he suddenly
became quiet, thinking of his own behavior in this line. He, too, was
involuntarily contributing toward the maintenance and support of the
foe.

The fall of the ministry and the constitution of a government of
national defense made it apparent that something very important must
have taken place. The alarms and tears of Dona Luisa increased his
nervousness. The good lady was no longer returning from the churches,
cheered and strengthened. Her confidential talks with her sister were
filling her with a terror that she tried in vain to communicate to
her husband. "All is lost. . . . Elena is the only one that knows the
truth."

Desnoyers went in search of Senator Lacour. He would know all the
ministers; no one could be better informed. "Yes, my friend," said the
important man sadly. "Two great losses at Morhange and Charleroi, at the
East and the North. The enemy is going to invade French soil! . . . But
our army is intact, and will retreat in good order. Good fortune may
still be ours. A great calamity, but all is not lost."

Prepa