"There is no one," said the old man, peering cautiously into the bushes; "when he struck the Prussian beast, it was only what his father's son must do. Come, cheer up! Think of those noble words of America's general, 'Lafayette, we are here.' If we have not letters from our son, still America has come to us. Is not this enough? She will strike the Prussian beast——"
"Sh-h-h!"
"There is no one, I tell you. She will strike the Prussian beast with her mighty arm harder than our poor noble boy could do with his young hand. Is it not so?"
The girl looked wistfully into the dusk. "I thought we would hear from him when we had the great news from America."
"That is because you are a silly child, my sweet Florette, and think that America is a magician. We must be patient. We do not even know all that her great president said. We are fed with lies——"
"Sh-h-h!"
"And how can we hear from Armand, my dear, when the Prussians do not even let us know what America's president said? All will be well in good time."
"He is dead," said the girl, uncomforted. "I have had a dream that he is dead. And it is I that killed him."
"This is a silly child," said old Pierre.
"America is full of Prussians—spies," said the girl, "and they have his name on a list. They have killed him. They are murderers!"