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"O Auguste, dear Auguste, yon must not need their help less, they at any rate deserve it tell her; grief for Léon, sorrow for Nina, anxiety more, for I have no faith, no trust, no devotion. for Victor and Uncle Lucien, the dread and strain All day the forts have been firing heavily, but of our position in a besieged city--for her, weak, we have not yet learned what is transpiring, and frail, suffering as she is--is already enough, too my

heart has been almost too sick to care. much."

October 1.-We heard last night that the “That is what I think,” he replied; "but result of the day's fighting had been very imuntil she knows, Renée, I must continue to do as portant. Uncle Lucien was in ecstacies of conI have done hitherto-act a lie."

fidence and hope. General Trochu's proclama“Yes; but oh, Augustine, only a little longer, tion scarcely makes so much of it. It appears a only till the siege is over."

sortie was made to discover the strength of the " Will that be a little while,' think you, Prussian forces at Châtillon, and to blow up

“, Renée ?

bridges over the Seine. Our troops do not seem " I hope so. Yes. Every one says so.

0 to have succeeded in the latter object. They Augustine, do you not think so ?”

occupied Chevilly, L'Hay, Thiais, and Choisy le “No, Renée, I do not think so.

I see no Roi, but Prussian reinforcements arrived, and reason to anticipate a speedy close. I believe the they fell back in good order. The Governor Prussians will continue to preserve their inactive praises the conduct of the soldiers, and calls the tactics. It is no ruse, no weakness, no cowardice, day a very honourable one; but the results seem but a settled plan and purpose. The armies of confined to “very severe” losses on our side and the provinces exist only in our rulers' minds and on the enemy's. All day the wounded were the people's fancy. Paris is full of men in being brought in. Victor is safe; we have not uniform, but not of soldiers. And France cannot seen him, but he sent a message to that effect. understand that this is her hour of weakness, and Augustine has joined the International Ambuthat she has no strength left to compete with the lance; one of the assistants was struck yesterday discipline and vigour of united Germany. We by a chance bullet, and he was asked to fill his are beaten, Renée, worsted in an uneven struggle, place. How differently should I have thought and the end must come, but I do not think it of his going, as one almost a priest of the Holy will be yet."

Church, among the sick and suffering, but two “If the siege last long, Augustine,” I said, short days ago! Now I know, alas ! that he can “it will-oh, mamma! mamma!”

only minister to bodily suffering, and that is so Augustine was very tender, very kind, more far from being the worst. moved outwardly than I had ever seen him. He Mamma is ill and exhausted this evening. The sought to comfort me. But I can see he thinks day was lovely, and I persuaded her to try a few mamma not better-worse. Oh! the darkness, turns in the Gardens. It was too much for her, the trouble, the sorrow seems deepening each and I have a heavy foreboding that she will never day. Léon--we know not where-missing, lost do so again. But it must be morbid depression,

Augustine--but this is my own dark the result of overstrain, I must subdue it. secret, for he has promised to keep it such stillan unbeliever, a reprobate. Victor and Uncle Lucien in deadly peril day by day ; Nina's young

CHAPTER XIII. life crushed by sorrow; and mamma dying! Yes, dying ; Augustine meant that, I know,

And Thou dost know and I know he is right. And there is no help,

The dumb, dumb grief, the aching woe; no hope for all this. Prayer ought to help. I

But Thou dost know, and Thou wilt care." suppose it helps some people. It does not me. Heaven is so far off, and there are no saints on October 2. A thunderbolt has fallen in our earth in these days. And how can I tell that the midst to-day. Strasburg and Toul have fallen, prayers I offer reach those above ? If others and with them our hopes, for the time at least.

to us.



This darkness is too dark for prayer ;


Everything seems against us. The mass of the something to touch what his hands have sent.
people refuse to believe it; but it is too true. Is this weak and sentimental? I fear many
Will the terrible fate of Strasburg be ours ? would say so; but it is true.
For myself I scarcely care, but for mamma and As I walked slowly homeward, sad and weary,

but relieved by the tears I had shed, I met a Daily we are more and more reminded that we lady and a little girl, whom I had often watched are the denizens of a besieged city. To-day an with strong interest. That they are English. I order has been issued to deliver up all stores of think I could have told without having someflour to the Government. Meat is already scarce, times caught a few words in that language and only procurable by ticket and long waiting. passed them; evidently mother and child. The Prices continue to rise; and a decree has been lady is apparently very weak and delicate, and passed prohibiting the levy of all rents before the child supports and guides her feeble steps December. Are we to become beggars, or with a tender solicitude that often brings tears starve? It seems very like it. My heart is too to my eyes. Both are dressed in deep mournheavy to write to-day.

ing, the lady in widow's weeds. I say the lady, October 3.-Augustine’s new creed certainly though her dress is plain and thread bare ; and does not make him happy. His face bears still the child's worn, rusty black frock, scanty and its haggard, troubled look. This morning he overgrown, tells of great poverty. They are looked specially worn and harassed. There were not much alike; the lady has brown hair a few wounded Germans brought in yesterday and soft, sad, dark eyes; and the girl, bright to the Palais de l'Industrie, now the head-golden locks, falling in loose rich curls over her quarters of the International Ambulance; but shoulders, deep blue eyes, and exquisitely fair there was no news of Léon. I do not expect complexion. Yet it is not the latter's beauty any. But Nina does,—the sharpened, eager only that attracts me. Indeed, I cannot account look of expectancy on her pale face goes to my for the strange interest which has often made me heart.

half decide on speaking to her. I think I Mamma was too weak to go out to-day; and should have done so ere this, only that she this afternoon, when she was resting, and Nina rarely leaves her mother's side; and the English shut up, as she often is, in her own room, I felt are such a reserved people, she might resept my as if I could not bear the deep stillness of the doing so. But to-day the fair child rendered empty house, broken only by the distant boom

me a great service. I had passed them anl of the fort-guns. So I went out alone, into the nearly reached the Garden gates, when I heard Luxembourg Gardens, in the bright, clear air light footsteps coming rapidly behind me.

I and glorious sunshine, thinking thereby to dis- did not turn till a soft touch was laid on my pel the heavy weight of gloom that rested on arm, and a sweet voice said in broken French, my spirits.

"Pardon, mademoiselle; I think you have There were many enjoying the beauty of the dropped this. I picked it up soon after you day in the broad avenues, and I turned into a passed.” It was the little case containing Léon's quiet and less frequented one, where I could letter and portrait. weep unseen. Something in the soft, sweet air “Yes, it is mine," I said ; "thank you very

" seemed to have power to melt my pain into tears, much,—you do not know what a treasure you and I wept long and bitterly. Then I took out have saved me." Léon's photograph and the last letter I had re, “I am very glad," she said shyly, and was ceived from him, - one of the short, loving turning away; but not wishing to lose this notes he sent before the fighting began, my own opportunity of making friends with her, I conparticular treasure; the last two belong to all, tinued, " It contains the likeness of dear and rarely leave my mother's hands. I always brother, and the last letter I have had from keep mine in a little case in my pocket. When him.” my heart yearns very sorely for him, it is even The blue eyes were raised to mine with a look

of sweet and ready sympathy. “He is in the certainly improve our soldiers, it is more in our war, mademoiselle ?”

besiegers' favour than ours. He says the “ We do not know, my child, whether he is Mobiles are fast becoming good soldiers; and exliving or dead, prisoner or free;" and the tears pects great things from his Bretons, who, howwelled to my eyes again

ever, do not agree well with the other troops. The child laid her small hand on mine, with Few of them can understand French. Victor a look of perfect comprehension and sympathy, can speak their patois, and is a great favourite. strange in one so young-she can only be about He looks well, but much more thoughtful and twelve at most-and said, " That is very hard manly. Poor Arnaud misses him sadly. The But, mademoiselle, God knows and God cares.” siege is a weary time for him. Most of his comThen, as if fearing she had made too free, she panions have left the city; but he is not yet murmured something about “Mamma being tired of playing soldiers. I did not see the little waiting,” and hurried away.

English girl to-day. But those words, “ God knows and God October 5.-I told mamma last night of my cares," have rung in my ears ever since. They little friend's words. She smiled that grave, sweet were spoken with such perfect assurance of smile that so often lights her dear, worn face truth. Of course I believe God knows every- now, in spite of all her sorrow, and said, “The thing, for he is omniscient, omnipresent; but dear child is right, Renée. I am sure God the “God knows” of that little English girl does know, and I think he cares. He is meant more than that. It implied the in- good to us. It is our sins that rise


in a great terested, individual, direct knowledge of one dark barrier between us and him. If he let his who personally cared to know; and her “God own Son die to help us to obtain salvation, he cares was spoken with a simplicity of trust

must care.

If we were only more faithful, more and realization, as of one whose loving solicitude earnest, more patient. And, Renée,” she added and tender sympathy were beyond all question. after a time, "I believe those words in our dear Can it be so ? Does God "know" and " care, Léon's letter are his words, and therefore true in the sense she appeared to mean, for us, com- words. It may be dangerous for us to know mon, every-day people? How very sweet it

How very sweet it them sometimes. It must be, or the priest would be to think so. I have so much need of would not say so—the Holy Church would not some one to know and care for me and mine just forbid them. But they have done me good and

No doubt my little English friend is not harm. It is sweet to me to think that my Protestant. And I suppose that good young Ger- darling boy heard them, and that he sent them man in whose arms poor Henri de l'Orme died

to us.

They have made me understand better was a Protestant too. Well, they seem to have that God loves us. They are so tender and so very beautiful words and thoughts of God. Can sweet. I cannot but receive them. And they they be so very wrong? At any rate I will not have made me more anxious to please and serve try to rob my heart of the strange, sweet feeling God than I ever was before, and I think at last of hope and peace those words give me, "God --at last, he will give me everlasting life. I

—at . I knows and God cares."

seem to forget his majesty in his goodness, October 4.--No news to-day. Victor and Renée, except sometimes, when Father Delille Uncle Lucien have both been home. The

Then he makes me afraid. But if it latter complains bitterly of the want of sub- had not been for this, I could not have borne all ordination and discipline of the National Guard. these sorrows." Having elected their own officers, they obey This, then, is the secret of the quiet meekness them or not, as they please; and many of the with which she has borne her heavy grief and officers are men of the worst character. Victor anxiety. When I have seen her lying with is dissatisfied at the inaction of our leaders; Léon's letter pressed to her heart by her transsays the Germans are strengthening their posi- | parent hands, and her soft eyes looking far away, tions each day; and that though delay will | I thought it was only of him she thought; but




He says

it has been of God and him. Her spirit seems ---and perhaps Uncle Lucien, who forgot the so calm and holy. It makes me feel she is too disfigurement in his soldiery interest. The saintly for earth.

Tuileries Gardens an artillery camp, filled with October 6.--I have not seen “my little friend,” soldiers' tents and fires; the Place de la Conas I call her, either yesterday or to-day. I long corde crowded with people and soldiers, especi. to do so, as I shall not now hesitate to address her; ally before the statue of Strasburg, still, in spite and I feel doubly drawn to her by the help and of the city's fall, the object of the people's adcomfort her simple words gave me the other day. | miration, and almost covered with wreaths of Unele Lucien says General Trochu has announced immortelles ; the Palais de l'Industrie an ambuthat he has a plan by which Paris is to be de- lance; the Cirque de l'Empératrice a barrack ; livered, and that he is only waiting for the the Arc de Triomphe boarded up in case of right moment to develop it.

bombardment; the Avenue de l'Empératrice Augustine is now constantly at the ambu- barricaded and honeycombed at the sides; the lance in the Palais de l'Industrie. I think he Champs Elysées deserted; crowds gathered at is happier for having unburdened his mind. I Passy, Point du Jour, and the Trocadéro, watchhope the solemn presence of suffering, and the ing the firing from the forts; the Champ de awfulness of death, may lead him out of his Mars a camp; the outer boulevards lined with dreadful error. His unbelief is so different tents for the soldiers ; the squares filled with from the infidelity of the many thoughtless sheep and oxen, the streets with beggars and and flippant men whom we know to hold itinerant vendors of all kinds, blocking up the similar views. He is so grave, and earnest, and footpaths ; hotels closed ; shops deserted ;true. It has cost him such bitter suffering; | all speaking of change; and the unceasing and I do not think it is over yet.

stream of soldiery passing, repassing, marching, Léon's last words, the night before he left, are drilling, and the hollow roar of the cannon, reall that he has known of help or hope for minding us of what we were little likely to months. If he is fully settled in unbelief, why forget,—the cause of that change. Is it strange that worn, harassed look of distress and per- that we returned home weary, sorrowful, and plexity, not of grief only? It is possible that it depressed ? For even if deliverance come soon, is as yet even only a temptation. I must say the it must be through torrents of blood and a more prayers for him, because I alone know his hurricane of fire, need,

But “ God knows and God cares." Like the October 7.–To-day was delightfully sunny sweet refrain of some heavenly melody, those and balmy; and Uncle Lucien insisted on taking words are borne to and fro over my spirit's mamma, Nina, and me for a drive round the troubled waters, hushing the storm, if not to city—civilians not being allowed to pass the calm, at least to less violence, gates. He was anxious we should know how October 8.-Dear mamma has taken cold; the city looked during the siege, which can she is feverish and ill, and it is so difficult to scarcely last more than another week now, it is get the nourishment she needs so much. Not thought. A pigeon has brought a despatch that there is any want as yet, at least to those from Tours with excellent news. Bazaine is who have money to buy, but it is someprospering (I suppose still in Metz, however); times necessary to wait two hours or more at two armies have been formed ; and throughout the shop. Poor Justine, it tries her patience the provinces the most resolute and enthusiastic sorely; but she will do anything for mamma. war-spirit prevails.

The worst is, mamma cannot eat the meat when Had it not been for the prospect of a speedy it does come. The beef is certainly of extratermination of the siege, our drive would have ordinary coarseness and flavour; mutton is been sadder than it was; and I think no one rarely procurable ; and I already begin to look thoroughly enjoyed it but Arnaud, who was de- anxiously at our diminishing stock of ready lighted at the unwonted aspect of everything, money,


There has been a slight disturbance at the breach, strong in the faith that calls down God's Hôtel de Ville. Large numbers of citizens, mighty help. chiefly from the Faubourgs, met and clamoured To-day Uncle Lucien actually wept as he for chassepots and immediate offensive move- spoke of the blasphemous tone of many of the ments. General Trochu appeared, and pacified papers that claim to be the voices of the people of them; I suppose by means of his plan. Gam- Paris. Reviving the dark memories of '92, they betta left in a balloon yesterday for Tours. call

upon the people to use the sacred edifices of October 9.-To-day has been dull and showery. religion as the much-needed stabling for our A weight of weariness and depression rests upon cattle--many have been used by democratic us that we cannot shake off. The house is orators—to drive away the priests from hovering 50 still; all ordinary interests are suspended. round the battlefields, and harassing the last Mamma alone is even and cheerful, Poor hours of the free sons of Republican France Nina's passive meekness has changed for fitful with the exploded myths of an obsolete superirritability. But no flash of her old brightness stition. One mayor, M. Mottu, has even or playfulness ever comes to break the monotony ordered the crucifixes to be removed from all of our sorrowful quiet. Sometimes visitors call the ambulances in his arrondisement. These in; but it is a relief when they leave. My accursed spirits of blasphemy and infidelity are heart always sinks lower after the wild talk strangling France in their hideous folds, like the and absurd reports they are almost sure to in- deadly Laocoon serpent. How can a country be dulge in; for the wisest and the bravest speak prosperous and pure that casts aside her faith, differently.

her priests, her God. And Augustine, my October 10.-The Palace of St. Cloud has dearly beloved and honoured brother, ranges been destroyed, fired by our own guns; and himself under their banner. Oh! may all the people seem rather proud of it than otherwise. saints plead for thee, my brother, that thou Versailles is to follow, if necessary, they say. mayest see thine error ere it be too late! To-day it has been difficult to believe the

To-day, while kneeling amidst prostrate and cannonade was only from our own guns, the weeping worshippers at St. Geneviève's shrine, noise was so great. Mamma is better, but still pleading with her to intercede for the city she unable to leave the house. Will she ever once saved from so terrible a fate, the thought leave it again? I have nothing to record to- struck me that it was not she, after all, but God day. Waiting and watching, hoping and fear- that saved it. She went not forth like the ing. That is the story of each weary day now. glorious Jeanne d'Arc, with sword and mail. Has the siege not yet lasted a month ? Days But she prayed, and God heard her, and answered are weeks in long, slow weariness.

by a miracle,--God knew and God cared. But October 11.--To-day Uncle Lucien went with then she was a saint. Oh! if God would but Nina and me to the shrine of St. Geneviève, at hear the cries, wrung like blood-drops from so the Church of St. Etienne du Mont. She and I many tortured hearts in Paris now! But then have often been there before. Crowds of wor- we are sinners, not saints; and God has no shippers surroundit daily. Ages have passed since dealings with sinners. the fierce hosts of the terrible Attila, “the scourge of God,” melted away from the walls of Paris before the crook of the holy young shepherdess of

CHAPTER XIV, Nanterre ; from Troyes, before the cross of the

MIDNIGIIT VIGILS. blessed St. Loup; from Orléans, before the faith

"Oh! there lie such depths of woe

In a young blighted spirit! Manhood rears ful prayers of the pious St. Agnan.

And now

A haughty brow, and age hath done with tears; other, and scarcely less formidable, invaders over

But youth bows down to misery, in amaze

At the dark cloud o'ermantling its fresh days." run the soil of fair France, and beleaguer her proudest cities. Men call them Huns, Goths, October 12.-It is reported to-day that Count Pandours; but no saint stands forth in the Moltke is dead, that the Crown Prince is dying of


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