a bottle of beer or claret with the hostile
commandant, who often employed him as a benevolent intermediary; but it
was no use to ask him for a single stroke of the bells; he would sooner
have allowed himself to be shot. That was his way of protesting against
the invasion, a peaceful and silent protest, the only one, he said,
which was suitable to a priest, who was a man of mildness, and not
of blood; and every one, for twenty-five miles round, praised Abbe
Chantavoine's firmness and heroism in venturing to proclaim the public
mourning by the obstinate silence of his church bells.

The whole village, enthusiastic at his resistance, was ready to back
up their pastor and to risk anything, for they looked upon that silent
protest as the safeguard of the national honor. It seemed to the
peasants that thus they deserved better of their country than Belfort
and Strassburg, that they had set an equally valuable example, and that
the name of their little village would become immortalized by that; but,
with that exception, they refused their Prussian conquerors nothing.

The commandant and his officers laughed among themselves at this
inoffensive courage, and as the people in the whole country round showed
themselves obliging and compliant toward them, they willingly tolerated
their silent patriotism. Little Baron Wilhelm alone would have liked to
have forced them to ring the bells. He was very angry at his superior's
politic compliance with the priest's scruples, and every day begged the
commandant to allow him to sound "ding-dong, ding-dong," just once, only
just once, just by way of a joke. And he asked it in the coaxing, tender
voice of some loved woman who is bent on obtaining her wish, but the
commandant would not yield, and to console himself, Mademoiselle Fifi
made a mine in the Chateau d'Uville.

The five men stood there together for five minutes, breathing in the
moist air, and at last Lieutenant Fritz said with a laugh: "The ladies
will certainly not have fine weather for their drive." Then they
separated, each to his duty, while the captain had plenty to do in
arranging for the dinner.

When they met again toward evening they began to laugh at seeing each
other as spick and span and smart as on the day of a grand review. The
commandant's hair did not look so gray as it was in the morning, and the
captain had shaved, leaving only his mustache, which made him look as if
he had a streak of fire under his nose.

In