had told not less upon myself than upon others, I abandoned all idea of rest.  The first thing that I did, aided by my respectable fellow-townsmen, was to take possession of all cabarets and wine-shops, allowing indeed the proprietors to return, but preventing all assemblages within them.  We then established a patrol of respectable citizens throughout the city, to preserve the public peace.  I calculated, with great anxiety, how many hours it would be before my messengers could react:  La Clairiere, to bring back the women—­for in such a case the wives are the best guardians, and can exercise an influence more general and less suspected than that of the magistrates; but this was not to be hoped for for three or four hours at least.  Judge, then, what was my joy and satisfaction when the sound of wheels (in itself a pleasant sound, for no wheels had been audible on the high-road since these events began) came briskly to us from the distance; and looking out from the watch-tower over the Porte St. Lambert, I saw the strangest procession.  The wine-carts and all the farm vehicles of La Clairiere, and every kind of country waggon, were jolting along the road, all in a tumult and babble of delicious voices; and from under the rude canopies and awnings and roofs of vine branches, made up to shield them from the sun, lo! there were the children like birds in a nest, one little head peeping over the other.  And the cries and songs, the laughter, and the shoutings!  As they came along the air grew sweet, the world was made new.  Many of us, who had borne all the terrors and sufferings of the past without fainting, now felt their strength fail them.  Some broke out into tears, interrupted with laughter.  Some called out aloud the names of their little ones.  We went out to meet them, every man there present, myself at the head.  And I will not deny that a sensation of pride came over me when I saw my mother stand up in the first waggon, with all those happy ones fluttering around her.  ‘My son,’ she said, ’I have discharged the trust that was given me.  I bring thee back the blessing of God.’  ‘And God bless thee, my mother!’ I cried.  The other men, who were fathers, like me, came round me, crowding to kiss her hand.  It is not among the women of my family that you will find those who abandon their duties.

And then to lift them down in armfuls, those flowers of paradise, all fresh with the air of the fields, all joyous like the birds!  We put them down by twos and threes, some of us sobbing with joy.  And to see them dispersing hand in hand, running here and there, each to its home, carrying peace, and love, and gladness, through the streets—­that was enough to make the most serious smile.  No fear was in them, or care.  Every haggard man they met—­some of them feverish, restless, beginning to think of riot and pleasure after forced abstinence—­there was a new shout, a rush of little feet, a shower of soft kisses.  The women were following after,