"Why, Florian ..." stammered Louise, "it is Chérie's birthday ... and...."
Sur le pont
D'Avignon
On y danse
On y danse,
sang the girlish voices upstairs.
Florian turned away with a groan. "What shall I do?" he muttered. "What will be the end of it?" Turning he saw Louise's stricken eyes gazing at him, and he took her hand. "Marraine," he said, "you will be very brave—it is best that I should tell you——"
"Yes, Florian," said Louise, and the colour ebbed slowly from her face, leaving it as white as milk.
"The country is invaded at all points. There has been fighting at Verviers...."
"At Verviers!" gasped Louise, and her large eyes were like inkblots in her colourless face.
"Yes, and at Fleron."
There was silence. Then Louise spoke. "What—what will happen to us? What does it mean ... to our country?"
"It means ruin and butchery," muttered Florian through his clenched teeth; "it means violence, carnage, and devastation." Then he walked up and down the room. "We are holding Visé," he muttered, "we are holding it against Von Emmich's hell-hounds. And when we cannot hold it any longer we will blow up the bridge on the Meuse."