Alas! what a scene presented itself out of doors. The people were running up and down in despair; a woman rushed wildly out of her house, and seized me by the arm, crying, "They are batooning my husband!" Another shrieked from a window, 'Help, help, they are killing my father!' Children ran about the streets, crying, "Oh, my father!--oh, my mother!" It seemed a heartless task to be going from one to another begging something to eat under such piteous circumstances; and yet how knew I that as bad or worse a tragedy might be acted at my uncle's if I failed to supply what was wanted? At length I returned, staggering under the weight of a huge cheese and a bag of chestnuts. And though I was reviled for not bringing them better cheer, yet I pacified them by smiling like my aunt, and echoing her "Attendez, messieurs, s'il vous plait;" and started forth again on my foraging expedition, though very doubtful of having anything to bring back. How long were these horrible men going to stay? How could we go on supplying their wants at this rate? If their orders were to eat my uncle out of house and home, and drive him and my aunt to distraction, would it not be just as well to let them do so at once, and have done with it? One and another to whom I applied were so full of their own griefs that I had to listen to what they had to say before they would or could hear a word from me in return. One had been hung up by his feet over a chimney; another had a knife held to his throat; one had seen her little infant nearly strangled; another had been dragged along the ground by her hair. I could not help pitying them sincerely, but not so much as I should have done, but for the sad plight of my uncle. When I, with a kind of wrench, forced the talk into the subject of what was going on at his house, they, through their great love for him, forgot for a moment their own trials in thinking of his; and those who had anything to contribute brought it out, and those who had nothing to spare made up for it in pity. All this consumed so much time that when I got back it was nearly dark, and the house was all in a blaze with lights, for the dragoons had lighted candles all over the house; and some of them were stupid with drink, and lying in heaps; others were rendered quarrelsome by it, and fighting and abusing one another; but as for the drummers, they never ceased. They were at it when I set forth, they were at it while I was away, they were at it when I came back again, and stared at the good things I spread out before them without once staying their drumsticks. I was so sick of it by this time, and so unable to disguise my disgust and anger, that I persuaded myself I might as well return home, for that I could do no good where I was, and things could get no worse without me. So I went up to my aunt, who was then sitting like a stone image, without seeming able to hear or see anything, and made signs of leave-taking. She grasped my hand in both hers, and looked up