of inoffensive courage, and as the entire neighborhood showed
themselves obliging to them and docile to their orders, they
willingly tolerated the priest's silent patriotism.

Little Markgraf Wilhelm was the only one who would have liked to
compel the bell to ring; he was very indignant at the political
condescendence of his superior officer towards the priest; and every
day he was beseeching the Commander to let him do once, just once,
"Ding-dong! Ding-dong!" merely for the sake of having a little
fun. And he begged for it with feline gracefulness, the cajolery
of a woman, the tenderness of voice of a beloved mistress craving
for something, but the Commander did not yield, and to console
himself, Mademoiselle Fifi exploded mines in the chateau d'Uville.

The five men remained there, in a group, for a few minutes, inhaling
the damp air. Finally Lieutenant Fritz spoke with a thick laugh:
"Decidedly, the ladies will not have fine weather for their trip."

Thereupon they separated, each going to his work, the Captain having
a great deal to do to make arrangements for the dinner party.

When they met again at nightfall, they began to laugh at seeing
each other dolled up coquettishly and smart like on grand review
days, perfumed, pomaded and hale. The Commander's hair seemed less
gray than in the morning, and the Captain had shaved, keeping only
his mustache, which looked like a flame under his nose.

Notwithstanding the rain, the window was kept open and from time
to time one of them went over to listen. At ten minutes past six
o'clock, the Baron reported a distant rolling. They all hurried