That they themselves did not get any letters only half surprised them, but that Mintié, the mayor, had not received any either, surprised them very much. Most unusual conjectures were made; they turned to the confusing statements of the papers, they questioned old soldiers who told them their war experiences with the most extravagant and lavish details; at the end of a couple of hours, they would part with lighter hearts. "Don't worry M'sieur Mayor. You'll see him back a colonel, sure." "Colonel, colonel!" my father would say, shaking his head.... "I don't ask that much.... Just so he comes back!..." One day--nobody knew how that happened--Saint-Michel found itself full of Prussian soldiers. The Priory was occupied. Long sabres were found in our old house. From this moment, my father became more ill than ever, he took fever and was confined to his bed, and in his delirium he repeated without end: "Put the horses to, Felix, put the horses to, for I want to go to Alençon to get some news of Jean!" He imagined himself starting out on the road. "Gid up, gid up, Bichette, gid up, come on!... We are going to have some news of Jean this evening.... Gid up, gid up, come on!... And my poor father gently breathed his last in the arms of the curé Blanchetière, surrounded by Felix and Marie who were sobbing!... After a six months' stay at the Priory, now sadder than ever, I was weary to death... Old Marie, accustomed to manage the house according to her own notions, was unbearable to me; in spite of her devotion, her whims exasperated me, and there always were long altercations in which I never had the last word. For my only company I had the good curé to whom nothing appealed as much as the profession of a notary. From morning till night he used to lecture to me thus: "Your grandfather was a notary, so was your father, your uncles, your cousins, in fact your whole family.... You owe it to yourself, my dear child, not to desert your post. You shall be Mayor of Saint-Michel, you may even hope to replace your poor father at the general council, in a few years.... Why man alive, that's something! And then--take my word for it--times are going to be pretty hard for decent people who love the good Lord.... You see that rascal Lebecq, he is municipal counsellor. All he thinks of is how to rob and kill people, that brigand there.... We need at the head of our country a right-minded man to uphold religion and defend the principles of righteousness.... Paris, Paris!... Oh! these silly heads, those youngsters!... But will you please tell me what good you have accomplished at Paris?...Why, the very air there is infected! Look at big Mange, he comes from a good family, but that did not prevent him from coming back from Paris with a red cap on. Isn't that a pretty affair?" And he would continue in this vein for hours, taking his snuff, evoking the vision of the red cap of big Mange which appeared to him more abominable than the horns of the devil.