"Look, my son, in the cellar. Many of them hid in cellars for days before." It was a kind-faced old man speaking.
The distracted Paul dashed into the underground stone cave and called again, "Jeanne, oh, Jeanne!"
A little sound came from a corner in the dark, damp cellar. The soldier stopped suddenly, and his ears became those of a forest animal, so sharp, so alert was he.
"My little one! Jeanne!" he called.
He struck a match. His heart nearly stopped. His Jeanne was not there. But something moved in the corner—something small and white.
"A baby!" Paul gasped.
His voice had dropped to a husky whisper. He lifted the small, white bundle. It was a baby—a tiny young baby!
The soldier carried the child out into the light. The little one touched his cheek with a pink hand.
"A baby!" breathed Paul, as he held this bit of humanity close in his arms. "And my Jeanne! We were to have had one like this soon."
Then Paul noticed something around the baby's neck. A small locket had been tied around her neck with a piece of faded ribbon.