omen were working together along one plank, and of course there
was continuous talk among them. But whenever the conversation became
more than usually animated, or they would fall to disagreeing among
themselves, they would call out to their companions who were similarly
working and talking some yards away to the right and left.

One lively old girl, who was striking her pallet so hard on a bombed
bundle of yellowish clothes, that meshes of brown hair broke from under
her cap and fluttered on her forehead, seemed to be the oracle of the
party.

"Perhaps this will be the last time we shall wash clothes here. Those
are terrible fellows who have come. They call them Bastonnais. They come
from very far, and are very bad men. They will burn our houses and
barns. They will empty our cellars and granaries. I saw M. le Cure
yesterday, and he told me that we will have to shut ourselves up, and
not show our faces, because ... you know."

"Pshaw, Josephine," said another, "it will not be so bad as that. My old
man says that they are like other men. I'm not afraid. I will talk to
them. I am sure there are some pretty fellows among them."

"Marguerite is always a coquette," continued a third. "But she will have
no chance. These strangers are poor, lean, broken-down, and badly
dressed. They are not soldiers at all, like the men at the citadel. No
lace, no gold tape, no epaulettes, no feathers in their hats. The
officers have no swords, and many of the soldiers are without muskets.
Men like that I would not allow to approach me, and if they come to our
house, I will dance them out with this paddle."

Saying which, the speaker fell to, beating her clothes with renewed
vigor.

The youngest and prettiest of the four women having listened to all
this, straightened herself up from her tub, and placing her arms akimbo,
said:

"Pierriche"--meaning her husband--"was in the city all yesterday
afternoon. You know Pierriche is a great talker, and likes to know all
the news. Every time he goes to the city he has enough to talk about for
a week afterwards. Well, do you know what he says? He is such a hoaxer,
such a _blagueur_, that I did not believe him, and hardly believe him
now, but he swore to me that it was true."

"What was it?" asked her three companions simultaneously.

"Well, he said that after he had been in the city a little while, and
sold what was in his sleigh, he thought he would take a stroll into
Lower Town. There he me