"Exactly so, grandfather."
"Well, thanks to God, our brave Gauls did, with the help of Insurrection, get back a little into the saddle! That soothes my blood somewhat."
"Oh, grandfather, wait, only wait!"
"Why?"
"What our fathers suffered was as nothing to what they were still to suffer."
"Think of it! And I thought they were out of the woods. What's it that happened to them?"
"Figure to yourself a horde of barbarians, semi-savages, named Franks. Thirteen or fourteen hundred years ago they emerged from the recesses of the forests of Germany. Genuine Cossacks they were, in their way. They fell upon the Roman armies. These, enervated by their conquest of Gaul, were rolled in the dust and driven out, and then the Frankish conquerors, in turn, took possession of our poor country. They stripped her even of her name. They called her France, after themselves, in token of possession."
"The brigands!" cried the old man. "I like the Romans better, by my faith! At least they left us our name."
"That's so. Besides, the Romans were, at least, the most civilized people then living, except for the barbarity of their system of slavery. They covered Gaul with magnificent structures, and will ye nil ye, they restored to our ancestors a part of their pristine freedom. The Franks, on the contrary, were, as I said, genuine Cossacks. Under their domination the Gauls had to start all over again."
"Good God! Good God!"