space of near a century.

"Why art thou anxious, _gran'mere_?" they said to her. "There is no
cause. Our army is victorious everywhere; and they say our lads will
send us all the Prussians' corn and cattle, so that the very beggars
will have their stomachs full."

But Reine Allix shook her head, sitting knitting in the sun. "My
children, I remember the days of my youth. Our army was victorious then;
at least, they said so. Well, all I know is that little Claudis and the
boys with him never came back; and as for bread, you could not get it
for love or money, and the people lay dead of famine out on the public
roads."

"But that is so long ago, _gran'mere_!" they urged.

Reine Allix nodded. "Yes, it is long ago, my dears. But I do not think
that things change very much."

They were silent out of respect for her, but among themselves they said,
"She is very old. Nothing is as it was in her time."

One evening, when the sun was setting red over the reapen fields, two
riders on trembling and sinking horses went through the village using
whip and spur, and scarcely drew rein as they shouted to the cottagers
to know whether they had seen go by a man running for his life. The
people replied that they had seen nothing of the kind, and the horsemen
pressed on, jamming their spurs into their poor beasts' steaming flanks.
"If you see him, catch and hang him," they shouted, as they scoured
away; "he is a Prussian spy!"

"A Prussian!" the villagers echoed, with a stupid stare--"a Prussian in
France!"

One of the riders looked over his shoulder for a moment. "You fools! do
you not know? We are beaten,--beaten everywhere,--and the Prussian pigs
march on Paris."

The spy was not seen in the Berceau, but the news brought by his
pursuers scared sleep from the eyes of every grown man that night in the
little village. "It is the accursed Empire!" screamed the patriots
of the wine-shop. But the rest of the people were too terrified and
down-stricken to take heed of empires or patriots; they only thought of
Louis and Jean and Andre and Valentin; and they collected round Reine
Allix, who said to them, "My children, for love of money all our
fairest fruits and flowers--yea, even to the best blossoms of our
maidenhood--were sent to be bought and sold in Paris. We sinned therein,
and this is the will of God."

This was all for a time that they heard. It was a place lowly and
obscure enough to be left in peace. The law pounced down on