Frank laughed. He knew by this time what piou-piou meant. It is the endearing term of the French for the little red-trousered soldiers who form the armies of the republic, just as the English call a soldier Tommy Atkins.
"It is for France," said Henri, gravely. "I shall perhaps be a piou-piou myself before so very long, Marie."
"You will be an officer, will you not?" exclaimed Marie.
"It may be. I do not know," said Henri. "But the best and the greatest men in France, those who govern us and write books and plays, and paint pictures, and make fine statues, are in the ranks to-day. It is a privilege even for my mother to nurse them."
"All very well—but I won't have her getting all tired out," grumbled Marie. "Your father told me himself, when he went off, to look after her. And I'm going to do it."
"Where did the soldiers who are in the park come from?" asked Henri, changing the subject.
"Who knows? They come, they stay a few hours or a day, then they go, and others take their places! More soldiers have been in Amiens than I knew were in the world! We had some English—strange, mad men, who wore dresses to their knees and had music that sounded like a dozen cats fighting at night on a back yard fence."
Both the boys laughed at this description of the kilted Highlanders with their bagpipes, but they exchanged meaning glances. Paris did not know where the English troops were; barely knew that some had crossed the channel, and had landed in France. How many had come no one knew except those who would not tell. All that was announced was that England had sent help to her ally, and that English troops were again, as on so many occasions in the past, on French soil. But this time they came as friends, not as the enemies that Marlborough and Wellington had led.
"Well, we'll soon know, even if she can't tell us," said Henri. And as soon as they had had their breakfast, they slipped around to the kitchen. Henri and Frank both laughed, for they surprised half a dozen blushing, awkward infantrymen, who were receiving hot coffee and rolls—fare of a different sort from that afforded by the camp kitchens.
"Welcome, welcome!" said Henri. "My father is with his regiment, or he would speak, so I speak for him. Of what regiment are you, my friends?"