"Yes; these are terrible things for him, but it is not Jean's fault. Where will you find a man more worthy of you and of your daughter?" "What is he doing to oppose this marriage? He is here--his silence gives consent. He is weak." M. Ulrich stopped him with a movement. "No; he is strong!" "Not like you--you who knew how to close your house." "My house belongs to me." "And I have the right to say 'Not like me!' All these young people accept things too easily, my friend. I do not mix myself up with politics. I keep silent. I plough my land. I am looked on with suspicion by the peasants, who no doubt like me, but who begin to find me 'compromising.' I am hated by Germans of every kind and colour. But, as God hears me, that only makes me drive my roots deeper in, and I do not change. I will die with all my old hatreds intact--do you understand--intact?" His eyes had a gleam in them such as a sharpshooter has when, with gun in hand, and sure that his hand will not tremble, he covers his enemy. "You stand for something in this generation, Xavier; but you must not be unjust. This man you refuse, because he is not like us, is not the less valiant for that." "That has to be seen." "Has he not declared that he will not enter the Government employ?" "Because the country pleases him better--and my daughter pleases him also!" "No; firstly because he is Alsatian." "Not like us, I will answer for that!" "In a new way. They are obliged to live in the midst of Germans. Their education is carried out in German schools, and their way of loving France leaves room for more honour and more strength of mind than was necessary in our time. Think, it is thirty years ago!" "Alas!" "They saw nothing of those times, they have only a traditional love, or a love which is of the imagination, or of family, and examples of forgetfulness are frequent around them!" "Jean has had, in truth, examples of that sort." "That is why you ought to be more just to him. Think that your daughter in marrying him will found here an Alsatian family--very powerful, very wealthy. The officer will not live in Alsheim, nor even long in Alsace. He will soon be only a name." M. Bastian placed his heavy hand on M. Ulrich's shoulder, and spoke in a tone which did not allow the discussion to be continued. "Listen, my friend, I have only one word. It cannot be, because I will not have that marriage: because all those of my generation, dead and living, would reproach me. And then, even if I yielded, Ulrich, there is a will near me stronger than mine, who will never say yes, do you understand, never!"