Celia threw her arms around her father's neck and burst into tears, but the old man gently put her away from him, and, paying no heed to Arno's look of startled inquiry, lay back in his chair. "Go, children!" he said, in a feeble voice. "You must leave me. This parting is almost more than I can bear. Celia, go with Arno to the carriage. Farewell, my dearest son! Your father's blessing be upon you in the coming struggle for the fatherland!" CHAPTER XXI. Months had passed since the beginning of the war; the German hosts had overrun France, and were girdling Paris with an iron ring, making its surrender but a question of time, while upon the ruins of the empire that had crumbled to decay at Sedan the young republic had been born to pursue with the energy of despair the strife that had been bequeathed to it by imperial policy. The pretty village of Assais was among the foremost to declare itself devoted to the republic, following the lead of the Marquise de Lancy, the widowed chatelaine of the castle of Assais, who, although a Russian by birth, was an enthusiastic supporter of the new government. Towards the end of September, however, the Marquise had departed for England, leaving the castle in the charge of a cousin, the Baron de Nouart, who had arrived at Assais only a short time previously in company with the brother of the Marquise, a Russian count. The Baron was reported to have been so busy in Germany in the French interest that an asylum in the castle of Assais was exceedingly welcome to him. His reputation in this respect stood him in good stead with the villagers, who otherwise were by no means favourably impressed by the appearance and manner of the substitute of their fair chatelaine, which were those of a man of dissipated life given over to the vice of drinking.