meanwhile, was thinking of his family living in
Cassel.

"There are eight children, Monsieur," he said with a visible effort to
control emotion. "The two eldest are preparing to become officers. The
youngest is starting school this year. . . . He is just so high."

And with his right hand he measured off the child's diminutive stature.
He trembled with laughter and grief at recalling the little chap. Then
he broke forth into eulogies about his wife--excellent manager of the
home, a mother who was always modestly sacrificing herself for her
children and husband. Ay, the sweet Augusta! . . . After twenty years of
married life, he adored her as on the day he first saw her. In a pocket
of his uniform, he was keeping all the letters that she had written him
since the beginning of the campaign.

"Look at her, Monsieur. . . . There are my children."

From his breast pocket, he had drawn forth a silver medallion, adorned
with the art of Munich, and touching a spring, he displayed the pictures
of all the family--the Frau Kommandeur, of an austere and frigid beauty,
imitating the air and coiffure of the Empress; the Frauleine Kommandeur,
clad in white, with uplifted eyes as though they were singing a musical
romance; and at the end, the children in the uniforms of the army
schools or private institutions. And to think that he might lose these
beloved beings if a bit of iron should hit him! . . . And he had to live
far from them now that it was such fine weather for long walks in the
country! . . .

"Sad war!" he again said. "May God punish the English!"

With a solicitude that Don Marcelo greatly appreciated, he in turn
inquired about the Frenchman's family. He pitied him for having so few
children, and smiled a little over the enthusiasm with which the old
gentleman spoke of his daughter, saluting Fraulein Chichi as a witty
sprite, and expressing great sympathy on learning that the only son was
causing his parents great sorrow by his conduct.

Tender-hearted Commandant! . . . He was the first rational and human
being that he had met in this hell of an invasion. "There are good
people everywhere," he told himself. He hoped that this new acquaintance
would not be moved from the castle; for if the Germans had to stay
there, it would better be this man than the others.

An orderly came to summon Don Marcelo to the presence of His Excellency.
After passing through the salons with closed eyes so as to avoid useless
distress