it seemed to me as if my eardrums would split.  In the midst of it all up came my aunt, whose fortitude and presence of mind at that moment I can never sufficiently admire; and with forced smiles and courteous gestures made them to understand, in dumb show, that the first course of their meal was served.  Instantly the drums ceased; one of them seized her by the shoulders, and hurried her down stairs before him, the others clattering after him.  I turned, and saw my uncle raise his eyes and hands to heaven, and fall back on his pillow.

There was now a lull, while the viands were being consumed; but soon a new uproar arose—­the supply was inadequate for the demand:  every morsel of food in the house was consumed at one sitting, and yet there was not nearly enough.  The dragoons were furious:  they gathered about my aunt, pulling her hair, threatening her with their fists, threatening to boil her in her own copper, and set fire to the house, with her sick husband in it, if she did not procure an ample supply.  With matchless patience she looked one after another in the face, said, “Attendez, attendez, messieurs, s’il vous plait;” and then, calling me down, bid me go forth and beg of my neighbors as much food as I could.

When wondering much at my aunt’s fortitude and self-possession, she afterwards told me that she lifted her heart to God in earnest prayer, and there came to her the comforting remembrance of these words.  “Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness’ sake; for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Alas! what a scene presented itself out of doors.  The people were running up and down in despair; a woman rushed wildly out of her house, and seized me by the arm, crying, “They are batooning my husband!” Another shrieked from a window, ’Help, help, they are killing my father!’ Children ran about the streets, crying, “Oh, my father!—­oh, my mother!” It seemed a heartless task to be going from one to another begging something to eat under such piteous circumstances; and yet how knew I that as bad or worse a tragedy might be acted at my uncle’s if I failed to supply what was wanted?

At length I returned, staggering under the weight of a huge cheese and a bag of chestnuts.  And though I was reviled for not bringing them better cheer, yet I pacified them by smiling like my aunt, and echoing her “Attendez, messieurs, s’il vous plait;” and started forth again on my foraging expedition, though very doubtful of having anything to bring back.

How long were these horrible men going to stay?  How could we go on supplying their wants at this rate?  If their orders were to eat my uncle out of house and home, and drive him and my aunt to distraction, would it not be just as well to let them do so at once, and have done with it?