unquenchable faith sought another handle. There were still
remaining many other Lieges in the interior. The Germans might force
their way further in; then we would see how many of them ever succeeded
in getting out. The entry into Brussels did not disquiet him. An
unprotected city! . . . Its surrender was a foregone conclusion. Now the
Belgians would be better able to defend Antwerp. Neither did the advance
of the Germans toward the French frontier alarm him at all. In vain his
sister-in-law, with malicious brevity, mentioned in the dining-room the
progress of the invasion, so confusedly outlined in the daily papers.
The Germans were already at the frontier.

"And what of that?" yelled Don Marcelo. "Soon they will meet someone to
talk to! Joffre is going to meet them. Our armies are in the East, in
the very place where they ought to be, on the true frontier, at the door
of their home. But they have to deal with a treacherous and cowardly
opponent that instead of marching face to face, leaps the walls of the
corral like sheep-stealers. . . . Their underhand tricks won't do them
any good, though! The French are already in Belgium and adjusting the
accounts of the Germans. We shall smash them so effectually that never
again will they be able to disturb the peace of the world. And that
accursed individual with the rampant moustache we are going to put in a
cage, and exhibit in the place de la Concorde!"

Inspired by the paternal braggadocio, Chichi also launched forth
exultingly an imaginary series of avenging torments and insults as a
complement to this Imperial Exhibition.

These allusions to the Emperor aggravated Frau von Hartrott more than
anything else. In the first days of the war, her sister had surprised
her weeping before the newspaper caricatures and leaflets sold in the
streets.

"Such an excellent man . . . so knightly . . . such a good father to his
family! He wasn't to blame for anything. It was his enemies who forced
him to assume the offensive."

Her veneration for exalted personages was making her take the attacks
upon this admired grandee as though they were directed against her own
family.

One night in the dining room, she abandoned her tragic silence. Certain
sarcasms, shot by Desnoyers at her hero, brought the tears to her eyes,
and this sentimental indulgence turned her thoughts upon her sons who
were undoubtedly taking part in the invasion.

Her brother-in-law was longing for the exterminati