"I will remain at my post," answered Julie Ledru firmly. "I have no fear for myself, but my charges, Father--Rosalie and Biddy, with whom their English parents have trusted me. My spirit fails! What must we do with them?"
"It will not be safe to leave them here, Mademoiselle, nor even for you to stay. We will take you to the crypt of the church, where, with a little food and drink, you will be safe until they have passed through. We have no treasure here in Coutane, and are simple folk. Perhaps we shall be beneath their notice."
Julie Ledru clasped her hands in an ecstasy of apprehension. They had been without newspapers for four days, but chance travellers from the East had brought strange and appalling tales of the invaders' desolating march. They told of ruined villages and burning homes, and helpless people mercilessly shot down in places as simple and as unimportant as Coutane. Julie Ledru looked round her little domain with a kind of sad pride. It did not contain many treasures, it is true, but it was her home, enshrined by many sweet memories. It contained her all.
"Now, Father?" she asked feverishly. "Do you think we should come now?"
"Without a moment's delay," he answered. "Go and get your charges roused and bring all with you; a little food also in a basket, lest you have to stop there several days."
_Painted for Princess Mary's Gift Book by Carlton A. Smith, R.I._]
"You will be with us, Father?" said Julie anxiously.
"My place is in the open street with such of my people as feel strong and brave in their innocence and faith. But you have English charges. If it was known, Mademoiselle, believe me, nothing would save them or you. Their fury against the English is so great."
"Shall we take Jules? Besides him, there is only our faithful Babette."
Before the Curé could reply Jules intervened, scratching his old grey head.
"I hide not from them, Mademoiselle; I will stay and guard the Château and keep them out, if I can, barbarians that they are, making war on women and children."
"They will shoot you, Jules, if you are so foolish," his mistress reminded him. His answer was a shrug of the shoulders.
"A man dies but once--that is to say, a good man, who has faith in God and does his duty."