To wake again and find the sun shining brightly on her own Alsatian home! Yes, all the nonsense about Napoleon and Moscow had been a dream, more—a nightmare! The good Curé was playing with the niece of her baby brother. Jules was hard at work cutting down apples in the orchard, which were soon to become cider in the press of the farmstead.
At Sea with his Story.
"My Father," said Marie, with a coquettish toss of her pretty head, "and so you think Jules too good for me?"
"Scarcely that, my daughter," replied the amiable old Priest, with a sweet, calm smile; "but I feel that you must do a great deal to be worthy of so brave a man."
"Brave?" echoed Marie. "Why, what do we want with bravery in these piping times of peace? Nowadays we have no Napoleon—all is tranquil."
"You are indeed right, my daughter," returned the old Priest, as he walked towards the chapel. "We do live in peaceful days—there is, indeed, no Napoleon!"
Chapter III. (By M. E.)
"Liar!" shouted Buonaparte, coming up at the moment, at the head of the remnant of his Army. "I will soon show you whether we live in tranquil times or no!"
And, ordering up a cannon, Marie, Jules, and the Priest were tied to the wheels.