“There are people walking in the wood,” she said; “seven or eight men at least.” The terrified old woman stopped her spinning wheel, and gasped: “Oh, my God! And your father not here!” She had scarcely finished speaking when a succession of violent blows shook the door. As the woman made no reply, a loud, guttural voice shouted: “Open the door!” After a brief silence the same voice repeated: “Open the door or I'll break it down!” Berthine took the heavy revolver from its hook, slipped it into the pocket of her skirt, and, putting her ear to the door, asked: “Who are you?” demanded the young woman. “What do you want?”. “The detachment that came here the other day,” replied the voice. “My men and I have lost our way in the forest since morning. Open the door or I'll break it down!” The forester's daughter had no choice; she shot back the heavy bolts, threw open the ponderous shutter, and perceived in the wan light of the snow six men, six Prussian soldiers, the same who had visited the house the day before. “What are you doing here at this time of night?” she asked dauntlessly. “I lost my bearings,” replied the officer; “lost them completely. Then I recognized this house. I've eaten nothing since morning, nor my men either.” “But I'm quite alone with my mother this evening,” said Berthine. “Never mind,” replied the soldier, who seemed a decent sort of fellow. “We won't do you any harm, but you must give us something to eat. We are nearly dead with hunger and fatigue.” Then the girl moved aside. “Come in;” she said. Then entered, covered with snow, their helmets sprinkled with a creamy-looking froth, which gave them the appearance of meringues. They seemed utterly worn out. The young woman pointed to the wooden benches on either side of the large table. “Sit down,” she said, “and I'll make you some soup. You certainly look tired out, and no mistake.” Then she bolted the door afresh. She put more water in the pot, added butter and potatoes; then, taking down a piece of bacon from a hook in the chimney earner, cut it in two and slipped half of it into the pot. The six men watched her movements with hungry eyes. They had placed their rifles and helmets in a corner and waited for supper, as well behaved as children on a school bench. The old mother had resumed her spinning, casting from time to time a furtive and uneasy glance at the soldiers. Nothing was to be heard save the humming of the wheel, the crackling of the fire, and the singing of the water in the pot. But suddenly a strange noise--a sound like the harsh breathing of some wild animal sniffing under the door-startled the occupants of the room. The German officer sprang toward the rifles. Berthine stopped him with a gesture, and said, smilingly: “It's only the wolves. They are like you--prowling hungry through the forest.”