It required a storm like that of 1870 to overthrow so peaceful an existence.  When the old captain heard that the Prussians were on French soil, he felt all the instincts of the soldier and the Frenchman awake in his heart.  He could not be kept at home, and went to headquarters.  Although a royalist at heart, he did not hesitate a moment to offer his sword to Gambetta, whom he detested.  They made him colonel of a regiment; and he fought like a lion, from the first day to the last, when he was thrown down and trod under foot in one of those fearful routs in which a part of Chanzy’s army was utterly destroyed.  When the armistice was signed, he returned to Valpinson; but no one except his wife ever succeeded in making him say a word about the campaign.  He was asked to become a candidate for the assembly, and would have certainly been elected; but he refused, saying that he knew how to fight, but not how to talk.

The commonwealth attorney and the magistrate listened but very carelessly to these details, with which they were perfectly familiar.  Suddenly M. Galpin asked,—­

“Are we not getting near?  I look and look; but I see no trace of a fire.”

“We are in a deep valley,” replied the mayor.  “But we are quite near now, and, at the top of that hill before us, you will see enough.”

This hill is well known in the whole province, and is frequently called the Sauveterre Mountain.  It is so steep, and consists of such hard granite, that the engineers who laid out the great turnpike turned miles out of their way to avoid it.  It overlooks the whole country; and, when M. Seneschal and his companions had reached the top, they could not control their excitement.

“Horresco!” murmured the attorney.

The burning house itself was hid by high trees; but columns of fire rose high above the tops, and illumined the whole region with their sombre light.  The whole country was in a state of excitement.  The short, square tower of Brechy sent the alarm from its big bell; and in the deep shade on all sides was heard the strange sound of the huge shells which the people here use for signals, and for the summoning of laborers at mealtimes.  Hurried steps were heard on all the high-roads and by-roads; and peasants were continuously rushing by, with a bucket in each hand.

“It is too late for help,” said M. Galpin.

“Such a fine property!” said the mayor, “and so well managed!” And regardless of danger, he dashed forward, down the hill; for Valpinson lies in a deep valley, half a mile from the river.  Here all was terror, disorder, and confusion; and yet there was no lack of hands or of good-will.  At the first alarm, all the people of the neighborhood had hurried up, and there were more coming every moment; but there was no one there to assume the command.  They were mainly engaged in saving the furniture.  The boldest tried to get into the rooms, and in a kind of rage, threw every thing they could lay hold on out of the window.  Thus the courtyard was already half full of beds and mattresses, chairs and tables, books, linen, and clothes.