'These are no _canaille,'_ I said: 'be silent, _ma bonne_ Léontine, here
is something which you cannot understand. This is Semur which has come
out to us for lodging.' She let the keys drop out of her hands. It was
not wonderful if she was amazed. All day long she followed me about, her
very mouth open with wonder. 'Madame Martin, that understands itself,'
she would say. 'She is romanesque--she has imagination--but Madame,
Madame has _bon sens_--who would have believed it of Madame?' Léontine
had been my _femme de ménage_ long before there was a Madame Martin,
when my son was young; and naturally it was of me she still thought. But
I cannot put down all the trouble we had ere we found shelter for every
one. We filled the stables and the great barn, and all the cottages
near; and to get them food, and to have something provided for those who
were watching before the city, and who had no one but us to think of
them, was a task which was almost beyond our powers. Truly it was beyond
our powers--but the Holy Mother of heaven and the good angels helped us.
I cannot tell to any one how it was accomplished, yet it was
accomplished. The wail of the little ones ceased. They slept that first
night as if they had been in heaven. As for us, when the night came, and
the dews and the darkness, it seemed to us as if we were out of our
bodies, so weary were we, so weary that we could not rest. From La
Clairière on ordinary occasions it is a beautiful sight to see the
lights of Semur shining in all the high windows, and the streets
throwing up a faint whiteness upon the sky; but how strange it was now
to look down and see nothing but a darkness--a cloud, which was the
city! The lights of the watchers in their camp were invisible to
us,--they were so small and low upon the broken ground that we could not
see them. Our Agnès crept close to me; we went with one accord to the
seat before the door. We did not say 'I will go,' but went by one
impulse, for our hearts were there; and we were glad to taste the
freshness of the night and be silent after all our labours. We leant