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Don Marcelo did not need to ask anything further； he dreaded to know the truth。 Nevertheless； he asked after her husband。 Now that he was awake and free； he cherished the fleeting hope that what he had gone through the night before was but another of his nightmares。 Perhaps the poor man was still living。 。 。 。
〃They killed him； Monsieur。 That man who seemed so good murdered him。 。 。 。 And I don't know where his body is； nobody will tell me。〃
She had a suspicion that the corpse was in the fosse。 The green and tranquil waters had closed mysteriously over this victim of the night。 。 。 。 Desnoyers suspected that another sorrow was troubling the mother still more； but he kept modestly silent。 It was she who finally spoke； between outbursts of grief。 。 。 。 Georgette was now in the lodge。 Horror…stricken and shuddering； she had fled there when the invaders had left the castle。 They had kept her in their power until the last minute。
〃Oh； Master； don't look at her。 。 。 。 She is trembling and sobbing at the thought that you may speak with her about what she has gone through。 She is almost out of her mind。 She longs to die！ Ay； my little girl！ 。 。 。 And is there no one who will punish these monsters？〃
They had come up from the cellars and crossed the bridge； the woman looking fixedly into the silent waters。 The dead body of a swan was floating upon them。 Before their departure； while their horses were being saddled； two officers had amused themselves by chasing with revolver shots the birds swimming in the moat。 The aquatic plants were spotted with blood； among the leaves were floating some tufts of limp white plumage like a bit of washing escaped from the hands of a laundress。
Don Marcelo and the woman exchanged a compassionate glance； and then looked pityingly at each other as the sunlight brought out more strongly their aging； wan appearance。
The passing of these people had destroyed everything。 There was no food left in the castle except some crusts of dry bread forgotten in the kitchen。 〃And we have to live； Monsieur！〃 exclaimed the woman with reviving energy as she thought of her daughter's need。 〃We have to live； if only to see how God punishes them！〃 The old man shrugged his shoulders in despair； God？ 。 。 。 But the woman was right； they had to live。
With the famished audacity of his early youth； when he was travelling over boundless tracts of land； driving his herds of cattle； he now rushed outside the park； hunting for some form of sustenance。 He saw the valley； fair and green； basking in the sun； the groups of trees； the plots of yellowish soil with the hard spikes of stubble； the hedges in which the birds were singingall the summer splendor of a countryside developed and cultivated during fifteen centuries by dozens and dozens of generations。 And yet here he was alone at the mercy of chance； likely to perish with hungermore alone than when he was crossing the towering heights of the Andesthose irregular slopes of rocks and snow wrapped in endless silence； only broken from time to time by the flapping of the condor's wings。 Nobody。 。 。 。 His gaze could not distinguish a single movable pointeverything fixed； motionless； crystallized； as though contracted with fear before the peals of thunder which were still rumbling around the horizon。
He went on toward the villagea mass of black walls with a few houses still intact； and a roofless bell tower with its cross twisted by fire。 Nobody in the streets sown with bottles； charred chunks of wood； and soot…covered rubbish。 The dead bodies had disappeared； but a nauseating smell of decomposing and burned flesh assailed his nostrils。 He saw a mound of earth where the shooting had taken place； and from it were protruding two feet and a hand。 At his approach several black forms flew up into the air from a trench so shallow that the bodies within were exposed to view。 A whirring of stiff wings beat the air above him； flying off with the croakings of wrath。 He explored every nook and corner； even approaching the place where the troopers had erected their barricade。 The carts were still by the roadside。
He then retraced his steps； calling out before the least injured houses； and putting his head through the doors and windows that were unobstructed or but half consumed。 Was nobody left in Villeblanche？ He descried among the ruins something advancing on all fours； a species of reptile that stopped its crawling with movements of hesitation and fear； ready to retreat or slip into its hole under the ruins。 Suddenly the creature stopped and stood up。 It was a man； an old man。 Other human larvae were coming forth conjured by his shoutspoor beings who hours ago had given up the standing position which would have attracted the bullets of the enemy； and had been enviously imitating the lower organisms； squirming through the dirt as fast as they could scurry into the bosom of the earth。 They were mostly women and children； all filthy and black； with snarled hair； the fierceness of animal appetite in their eyesthe faintness of the weak animal in their hanging jaws。 They were all living hidden in the ruins of their homes。 Fear had made them temporarily forget their hunger； but finding that the enemy had gone； they were suddenly assailed by all necessitous demands； intensified by hours of anguish。
Desnoyers felt as though he were surrounded by a tribe of brutalized and famished Indians like those he had often seen in his adventurous voyages。 He had brought with him from Paris a quantity of gold pieces； and he pulled out a coin which glittered in the sun。 Bread was needed； everything eatable was needed； he would pay without haggling。
The flash of gold aroused looks of enthusiasm and greediness； but this impression was short…lived； all eyes contemplating the yellow discs with indifference。 Don Marcelo was himself convinced that the miraculous charm had lost its power。 They all chanted a chorus of sorrow and horrors with slow and plaintive voice； as though they stood weeping before a bier： 〃Monsieur； they have killed my husband。〃 。 。 。 〃Monsieur； my sons！ Two of them are missing。〃 。 。 。 Monsieur； they have taken all the men prisoners： they say it is to work the land in Germany。〃 。 。 。 〃Monsieur； bread！ 。 。 。 My little ones are dying of hunger！〃
One woman was lamenting something worse than death。 〃My girl！ 。 。 。 My poor girl！〃 Her look of hatred and wild desperation revealed the secret tragedy； her outcries and tears recalled that other mother who was sobbing in the same way up at the castle。 In the depths of some cave； was lying the victim； half…dead with fatigue； shaken with a wild delirium in which she still saw the succession of brutal faces； inflamed with simian passion。
The miserable group； forming themselves into a circle around him； stretched out their hands beseechingly toward the man whom they knew to be so very rich。 The women showed him the death…pallor on the faces of their scarcely breathing babies； their eyes glazed with starvation。 〃Bread！ 。 。 。 bread！〃 they implored； as though he could work a miracle。 He gave to one mother the gold piece that he had in his hand and distributed more to the others。 They took