"But France," complained the manufacturer, "is most unresponsive towards
us. For many years past, our Emperor has been holding out his hand with
noble loyalty, but she pretends not to see it. . . . That, you must
admit, is not as it should be."

Just here Desnoyers believed that he ought to say something in order
that the spokesman might not divine his more engrossing occupation.

"Perhaps you are not doing enough. If, first of all, you would return
that which you took away from France!" . . .

Stupefied silence followed this remark, as if the alarm signal had
sounded through the boat. Some of those who were about putting their
cigars in their mouths, remained with hands immovable within two inches
of their lips, their eyes almost popping out of their heads. But the
Captain of the Landsturm was there to formulate their mute protest.

"Return!" he said in a voice almost extinguished by the sudden swelling
of his neck. "We have nothing to return, for we have taken nothing. That
which we possess, we acquire by our heroism."

The hidden knee with its agreeable friction made itself more
insinuating, as though counselling the youth to greater prudence.

"Do not say such things," breathed Bertha, "thus only the republicans,
corrupted by Paris, talk. A youth so distinguished who has been in
Berlin, and has relatives in Germany!" . . .

But Desnoyers felt a hereditary impulse of aggressiveness before each