me flakes of snow and
the City, frightened and amused at its fright; above it very high in
the air circled the warlike birds. But he saw only her, the one who was
within him; and he reached home holding the hand of the unknown girl.

* * * * *

PIERRE AUBIER lived with his parents near Cluny Square. His father was a
municipal judge; his brother, older than he by six years, had
volunteered at the beginning of the war. A good sound family of the
_bourgeois_ class, excellent folks, affectionate and human, never having
dared to think for themselves and very probably never imagining that
such a thing could be. Profoundly honest and with a lofty sense of the
duties of his office, Judge Aubier would have rejected with indignation
as a supreme insult the suspicion even that the verdicts he announced
could have been dictated by any other considerations than those of
equity and his own conscience. But the voice of his conscience had never
spoken--let us better say whispered--against the government. For that
conscience was born a functionary. It registered thoughts as a State
function--variable but infallible. Established powers were invested by
him with a sacred truth. He admired sincerely those souls of iron, the
great free and unbending magistrates of the past; and perhaps secretly
believed himself to be of their stock. He was a very small edition of
Michel de l'Hospital over whom a century of republican slavery had
passed.

As to Madame Aubier she was as good a Christian as her husband was a
good republican. Just as sincerely and honestly as he made himself a
docile instrument of the government against any form of liberty which
was not official, so did she mingle her prayers, and that in perfect
purity of heart, with the homicidal vows which were made about the war
in every country of Europe by the Catholic priests, the Protestant
ministers, the rabbis and the popes, the newspapers and the right-minded
thinkers of the time. And both of them, father and mother, adored their
children and, like true French people, had for them only a profound,
essential affection, would have sacrificed everything for them, and yet,
in order to do as others, would sacrifice them without hesitation. To
whom? Why, to the unknown god. In every epoch Abraham has led Isaac to
the funeral pile. And his magnificent folly still remains an example for
poor human beings.

As often is the case, at this family hearth affection was great and
intimac