_August first._

The _tocsin_ ceased, but the drum rolled on.

In a moment we had recovered from the first shock, and all went out to
the highroad to hear the declaration. To H. and me it was already a
thing of the past, but we wanted to see how the peasants would take it.

At Villiers as at Charly, it was the _garde champetre_ who was charged
with this solemn mission, and the old man made a most pathetic figure as
he stood there with his drumsticks in his hand, his spectacles pushed
back, and the perspiration rolling down his tanned and withered cheeks.

"What have you got to say?" queried one woman, who was too impatient to
wait until all had assembled.

"_Bien de bon--_" was the philosophic reply, and our friend proceeded to
clear his throat and make his announcement.

It was received in dead silence. Not a murmur, not a comment rose from
the crowd, as the groups dispersed, and each one returned to his
lodgings.

We followed suit, and I went with H. towards the servants' hall.

"Give me the keys to the wine cellar," said he. "And, Nini," he
continued, addressing my youngest maid, aged ten, "Nini, lay a cloth and
bring out the champagne glasses. The boys shan't go without a last
joyful toast."