The French Twins Part 2

In a few moments there was a lull in the roar of the guns, and then in the distance another sound was heard. It was a mighty song of triumph as the conquerors came marching into Rheims!

"There won't be any more shooting for a while anyway," said the stranger, who had now recovered his breath. "They won't sh.e.l.l the City while it's full of their own men. I'm going to see them come in."

All Pierre's fears vanished in an instant. "Come on," he cried, wild with excitement; "let us go too."

"I'll not stir a foot from my shop," said Madame Coudert firmly. "I don't want to see the Germans, and if they want to see me, they can come where I am."

But Pierre had not waited for a reply, from her or any one else. He was already running up the street.

"Catch him, catch him," gasped Mother Meraut.

Pierrette dashed after Pierre, and as she could run like the wind, she soon caught up with him and seized him by the skirt of his blouse.

"Stop! stop!" she screamed. "Mother doesn't want you to go."

But she might as well have tried to argue with a hurricane. Pierre danced up and down with rage, as Pierrette braced herself, and firmly anch.o.r.ed him by his blouse. "Leggo, leggo!" he shrieked. "I'm going, I tell you! I'm not afraid of any Germans alive."

Just then, panting and breathless, Mother Meraut arrived upon the scene. While Pierrette held on to his blouse, she attached herself to his left ear. It had a very calming effect upon Pierre. He stopped tugging to get away lest he lose his ear.

"Foolish boy," said his Mother, "see how much trouble you give me! You shall see the Germans, but you shall not run away from me. If we should get separated, G.o.d only knows whether we should ever find each other again."

The music had grown louder and louder, and was now very near. "I'll stay with you, if you'll only go," pleaded Pierre, "but you aren't even moving."

"Come, Pierrette," said his Mother, "take hold of his left arm. I will attend to his right; he might forget again. What he really needs is a bit and bridle!"

The three moved up the street, Pierre chafing inwardly, but helpless in his Mother's grasp, and at the next crossing the great spectacle burst upon them. A whole regiment of cavalry was pa.s.sing, singing at the top of their lungs, "Lieb' Vaterland, macht ruhig sein." The sun glistened on their helmets, and the clanking of swords and the jingling of spurs kept time with the swelling chorus. After the cavalry came soldiers on foot--miles of them.

"Oh," murmured Pierrette, clinging to her Mother, "it's like a river of men!"

Her Mother did not answer. Pierrette looked up into her face. The tears were streaming down her cheeks, but her head was proudly erect. She looked at the other French people about them. There were tears on many cheeks, but not a head was bowed. Pierre was glaring at the troops and muttering through his teeth: "Just you wait till I grow up! I'll make you pay for this, you pirates! I'll--"

"Hus.h.!.+" whispered Pierrette. "Suppose they should hear you!"

"I don't care if they do! I wish they would!" raged Pierre. "I'm going--"

But the German Army was destined not to suffer the consequences of Pierre's wrath. He did not even have a chance to tell Pierrette his plan for their destruction, for at this point his Mother, unable longer to endure the sight, dragged him forcibly from the scene. "They shall not parade their colors before me," she said firmly, "I will not stand still and look in silence upon my conquerors! If I could but face them with a gun, that would be different!"

She led the children through a maze of small streets by a roundabout way to the Cathedral, and there they were met at the entrance by the Verger, who gazed at them with sad surprise. "You've been out in the street during the bombardment," he said reproachfully. "It's just like you, Antoinette."

"Oh, but how was I to know it was coming?" cried Mother Meraut. "We left home before it began!"

"It would have been just the same if you had known," scolded the Verger. "Germans or devils--it would make no difference to you! You have no fear in you."

"You misjudge me," cried Mother Meraut; "but what good would it do to sit and quake in my own house? There is no safety anywhere, and here at least there is work to do."

"You can go about your work as usual with the noise of guns ringing in your ears and the Germans marching through Rheims?" exclaimed the Verger.

"Why not?" answered Mother Meraut, with spirit. "I guess our soldiers don't knock off work every time a gun goes off or a few Germans come in sight! It would be a shame if we could not follow their example!"

"Antoinette, you are a wonderful woman. I have always said so,"

declared the Verger solemnly. "You are as brave as a man!"

"Pooh!" said Mother Meraut, mockingly. "As if the men, bless their hearts, were so much braver than women, anyway! Oh, la! la! the conceit of you!" She wagged a derisive finger at the Verger, and, calling the children, went to get her scrubbing-pail and brushes.

All day long, while distant guns roared, she went about her daily tasks, keeping one spot of order and cleanliness in the midst of the confusion, disorder, and destruction of the invaded city. The Twins were busy, too; their Mother saw to that. They dusted chairs and placed them in rows; and at noon they found a corner where the light falling through one of the beautiful stained-gla.s.s windows made a spot of cheerful color in the gloom, and there they ate part of the lunch which they had packed in the wicker basket. During all the excitement of the morning they had not forgotten the lunch!

When the day's work was done, they ventured out upon the streets in the gathering dusk. They found them full of German soldiers, drinking, swaggering, singing, and they saw many strange and terrifying sights in the havoc wrought by the first bombardment. As they pa.s.sed the door of Madame Coudert's shop, they peeped in and saw her sitting stolidly behind the counter, knitting.

"Oh," said Pierrette, "doesn't it seem like a year since we were here this morning?"

Mother Meraut called out a cheerful greeting to Madame Coudert. "Still in your place, I see," she said.

"Like the Pyramids," came the calm answer; and, cheered by her fort.i.tude, they hurried on their way to the little house in the Rue Charly.

Mother Meraut sighed with relief as she unlocked the door. "Everything just as we left it," she said. "We at least shall have one more night in our own home." Then she drew the children into the shelter of the dear, familiar roof and locked the door from the inside.

IV. THE RETURN OF THE FRENCH

One unhappy day followed upon another for the inhabitants of Rheims.

Each night they went to bed in terror; each morning they rose to face new trials and dangers. Yet their spirit did not fail. Each day the roar of guns toward the west grew fainter and more distant, and the people knew with sinking hearts that the Germans had driven the Armies of France farther and farther back toward Paris. Each day the conduct of the conquerors grew more arrogant. "Our Emperor will soon be in Paris!" they said.

On the public monuments and in the squares of the City appeared German proclamations printed upon green paper, warning the people of Rheims of terrible punishments which would befall them if they in any way rebelled against the will of the victorious invaders. It was only with great difficulty that Pierre could be dragged by these signs. Each morning as they went to the Cathedral they had to pa.s.s several of them, and Pierrette and her Mother soon learned to take precautions against an outburst of rage which might bring down upon his rash head the wrath of the enemy. The eye of the Germans seemed everywhere. One of these posters was fixed to the window of Madame Coudert's shop. On the morning that it first appeared, Pierre in pa.s.sing made a dash for the gutter, picked up a handful of mud, and threw it squarely into the middle of the poster.

Madame Coudert saw him, and winked solemnly, but did not move. His Mother instantly collared Pierre, and led him up a side street just in time to escape the clutches of a German officer who had seen him a block away, and came on the run after him. When, puffing and blowing, he at last reached the shop there was no one in sight except Madame Coudert behind her counter. The enraged officer pointed out the insult that had been offered his country.

Madame Coudert looked surprised and concerned. She followed the officer to the door, and gazed at the disfigured poster. "I will clean it at once," she said obligingly. She got out soap and a brush immediately, and when she had finished, her work had been so thoroughly done that not a spot of mud was left, but unfortunately the center of the poster was rubbed through and quite illegible, and the rest of it was all streaked and stained! "Will that do?" she asked the officer, looking at him with round, innocent eyes and so evident a desire to please that, in spite of an uneasy suspicion, he merely grunted and went his way.

The first time they came into the shop after this episode Madame Coudert gave Pierre a cake with pink frosting on it.

In this way a whole week dragged itself by, and, on the morning of the eighth day after the German entry into Rheims, Mother Meraut and the Twins left home earlier than usual in order to reach the Cathedral before the bombardment, which they had learned daily to expect, should begin. They found Madame Coudert in front of her shop; was.h.i.+ng the window. A large corner of the poster was now gone. "It rained last night," she said to Mother Meraut, "and the green color ran down on my window. I had to wash it, and accidentally I rubbed off a corner of the poster. It can't be very good paper." She looked solemnly at Pierre.

"Too bad, isn't it?" she said, and closed one eye behind her round spectacles.

"The weather seems to have damaged a good many of them, I notice,"

answered Mother Meraut, with just a suspicion of a smile. "The weather has been quite pleasant too,--strange!"

"Weather--nothing!" said Pierre, scornfully. "I'll bet you that--"

It seemed as if Pierre was always being interrupted at just the most exciting moment of his remarks, but this time he interrupted himself.

"What's that?" he said, stopping short. Madame Coudert, his Mother, and Pierrette, all stood perfectly still, their eyes wide, their lips parted, listening, listening! They heard cannon-shots, then music--toward the west--coming nearer--nearer.

"It is--oh, it is the Ma.r.s.eillaise!" shrieked Pierrette.

Mother Meraut and the Twins ran toward the sound. Now shouts were heard--joyous shouts--from French throats! Never had they heard such a sound! People came tumbling out of their houses, some not fully dressed--but who cared? The French were returning victorious from the battle of the Marne. They were coming again into Rheims, driving the Germans before them! Ah, but when the red trousers actually appeared in the streets the populace went mad with joy! They embraced the soldiers; they marched beside them with tears streaming down their cheeks, singing "March on! March on!" as though they would split their throats.

Pierre and Pierrette marched and sang with the others, their Mother close beside them.

On and on came the singing, joy-maddened people, right past Madame Coudert's shop, and there, standing on the curb, with a tray in her arms piled high with goodies, was Madame Coudert herself. The green poster was already torn in shreds and lying in the gutter. It even looked as if some one had stamped on it, and above her door waved the tricolor of France! "Come here," she cried to Pierre and Pierrette, "Quick! Hand these out to the soldiers as long as there's one left!"