She was unaware when Jacques put a caressing, supporting arm about her and said: "Listen, my child."
The three men were coming forward. One of them had a letter in his hand. With kind eyes and bared heads they stood before the straining gaze of Claire René.
"The letter is for you, ma petite." Jacques voice was infinitely tender; the added pressure of his arm made Claire René conscious of his presence; she suddenly clung to him and buried her face in his coat sleeve. He went on to say: "The letter is for Claire René—from the 'Great Man from America'!"
The tangled head shook in the angle of his arm. Claire René was crying.
The tallest of the three men handed the letter to Jacques; he wiped his eyes and turned his head away. The others shifted in position and tightly folded their arms across their broad chests.
Jacques read:
To Mademoiselle Claire René: The soil of France now covers the bodies of your three brothers, Clément and Fernand and Alphonse Populet. The soil of France covers the Croix de Guerre upon their breasts. The sons of France, and of America, hold forever in their hearts the memory of their honor. We are all one family now—France and America—and so I send to you three brothers—not in place of, but in the stead of those others. They come to give you love and service in the name of America.
Claire René slowly moved apart from Jacques. She stood alone with head erect and taut arms by her sides. She hesitated a moment, then came forward and held out her hands.
"Bonjour, messieurs," she said.
The tallest of the three men covered her hands with his own. "Little friend," he said, "we can't make you forget your brothers; we want to help you remember them. We want to do some of the things for you that they used to do, and we want you to do a lot of things for us. We are pretty big, it is true, but we need a little girl like you to sort of keep us in order. We want to take you right along with us this very day—to a place where we can care for you, and——"