But Desnoyers insisted that he did not know it, that nobody had seen such things.  And as his words were received in an atmosphere of malicious doubt, he preferred to be silent.  His Excellency, superior spirit, incapable of being associated with the popular credulity, here intervened to set matters straight.  The report of the assassination was, perhaps, not certain; the German periodicals might have unconsciously exaggerated it.  Just a few hours ago, the General of the Staff had told him of the flight of the French Government to Bordeaux, and the statement about the revolution in Paris and the firing of the French troops was indisputable.  “The gentleman has seen it all without doubt, but does not wish to admit it.”  Desnoyers felt obliged to contradict this lordling, but his negative was not even listened to.

Paris!  This name made all eyes glisten and everybody talkative.  As soon as possible they wished to reach the Eiffel Tower, to enter victorious into the city, to receive their recompense for the privations and fatigues of a month’s campaign.  They were devotees of military glory, they considered war necessary to existence, and yet they were bewailing the hardship that it was imposing upon them.  The Count exhaled the plaint of the craftsmaster.

“Oh, the havoc that this war has brought in my plans!” he sighed.  “This winter they were going to bring out my dance in Paris!”

They all protested at his sadness; his work would surely be presented after the triumph, and the French would have to recognize it.

“It will not be the same thing,” complained the Count.  “I confess that I adore Paris. . . .  What a pity that these people have never wished to be on familiar terms with us!” . . .  And he relapsed into the silence of the unappreciated man.

Desnoyers suddenly recognized in one of the officers who was talking, with eyes bulging with covetousness, of the riches of Paris, the Chief Thief with the band on his arm.  He it was who so methodically had sacked the castle.  As though divining the old Frenchman’s thought, the commissary began excusing himself.

“It is war, monsieur. . . .”

The same as the others! . . .  War had to be paid with the treasures of the conquered.  That was the new German system; the healthy return to the wars of ancient days; tributes imposed on the cities, and each house sacked separately.  In this way, the enemy’s resistance would be more effectually overcome and the war soon brought to a close.  He ought not to be downcast over the appropriations, for his furnishings and ornaments would all be sold in Germany.  After the French defeat, he could place a remonstrance claim with his government, petitioning it to indemnify his loss; his relatives in Berlin would support his demand.

Desnoyers listened in consternation to his counsels.  What kind of mentality had these men, anyway?  Were they insane, or were they trying to have some fun at his expense? . . .