The warm sun shone on their shoulders; they were no longer listening or thinking, they ignored the rest of the world, they were fishing. Suddenly a dull sound which seemed to come from underground shook the earth. The cannon was thundering again. Morissot turned, and over the edge of the bank, he saw yonder, on the left, the great profile of Mont-Valerien, with a white plume on its brow, the haze of gunpowder which it had just belched forth. And instantly a second puff of smoke arose from the crest of the fortress; and a few minutes later another shot roared. Then more followed, and from time to time there gushed from the mountain a death laden breath, milky vapors which rose slowly and formed a cloud above it under the calm sky. Monsieur Sauvage shrugged his shoulders: “They are at it again,” said he. Morissot, who was intently watching the bobbing of his float, was suddenly seized with a peaceful man’s fury against those madmen who were fighting thus, and he growled: “How stupid to kill one another like that.” Monsieur Sauvage replied: “They are worse than animals!” And Morissot who had just caught a bleak, exclaimed: “And to think it will always be the same as long as there are governments....” Monsieur Sauvage stopped him: “The Republic would not have declared war....” Morissot interrupted him: “With a king there is war abroad; with a republic, there is war at home.” And tranquilly, they began to discuss, solving deep political problems with the sane reason of gentle and limited minds, agreeing on this one point: one would never be free. And Mont-Valerien thundered ceaselessly, its shells tearing down French homes, pounding out lives, crushing human beings, putting an end to many dreams, many expected joys, much longed for happiness, creating in the hearts of wives, in the hearts of daughters, in the hearts of mothers, over there, and in other countries, a grief that would never end. “That’s life,” declared Monsieur Sauvage. “It’s death, you mean,” retorted Morissot, laughing. They started with fear, suddenly aware that someone had just walked behind them; looking back, they saw, standing quite close to them four men, four big fellows, armed and bearded, dressed like servants in livery and wearing flat caps, who were pointing their guns at them. The fishing rods dropped from their hands and drifted down the river. In a few seconds they were seized, carried off, thrown into a boat and brought to the island. And behind the house which they had thought deserted, they saw a score of German soldiers. A kind of hairy giant, who sat, astride a chair, smoking a long porcelain pipe, asked them in excellent French: “Well, gentlemen, how was the fishing?” Then a soldier laid at the feet of the officer the net full of fish which he had been thoughtful enough to bring along. The Prussian smiled: “Ha! ha! I see you did pretty well. But that is not the point. Listen carefully and don’t get excited.