tomobile with two of his aids, and the group disbanded.

The cruel uncertainty, the interminable moments before the official
returned to his side, filled Desnoyers with dread.

"His Excellency is very gracious," announced the lieutenant. "He might
have shot you, but he pardons you and yet you people say that we are
savages!" . . .

With involuntary contempt, he further explained that he had conducted
him thither fully expecting that he would be shot. The General was
planning to punish all the prominent residents of Villeblanche, and he
had inferred, on his own initiative, that the owner of the castle must
be one of them.

"Military duty, sir. . . . War exacts it."

After this excuse the petty official renewed his eulogies of His
Excellency. He was going to make his headquarters in Don Marcelo's
property, and on that account granted him his life. He ought to thank
him. . . . Then again his face trembled with wrath. He pointed to some
bodies lying near the road. They were the corpses of Uhlans, covered
with some cloaks from which were protruding the enormous soles of their
boots.

"Plain murder!" he exclaimed. "A crime for which the guilty are going to
pay dearly!"

His indignation made him consider the death of four soldiers as an
unheard-of and monstrous outrage--as though in was only the enemy ought
to fall, keeping safe and sound the lives of his compatriots.

A band of infantry commanded by an officer approached. As their ranks
opened, Desnoyers saw the gray uniforms roughly pushing forward some of
the inhabitants. Their clothes were torn and some had blood on face and
hands. He recognized them one by one as they were lined up against the
mud wall, at twenty paces from the firing squad of soldiers--the mayor,
the priest, the forest guard, and some rich villagers whose houses he
had seen falling in flames.

"They are going to shoot them . . . in order to prevent any doubt about
it," the lieutenant explained. "I wanted you to see this. It will serve
as an object lesson. In this way, you will feel more appreciative of the
leniency of His Excellency."

The prisoners were mute. Their voices had been exhausted in vain
protest. All their life was concentrated in their eyes, looking around
them in stupefaction. . . . And was it possible that they would kill
them in cold blood without hearing their testimony, without admitting
the proofs of their innocence!

The certainty of approaching death soon gave almost al