"Strange to say, Jean-Claude, while the fool continued speaking, I seemed to see again all those countries of former times, and to remember them as a dream. I had let fall my distaff, and old Duchêne, Robin, Jeanne--in short, every one, was listening eagerly. 'Yes, it is a long time ago,' the fool began again. 'In those times, too, you used to build these huge fire-places; and all around, at two or three hundred paces, you used to fix your palings fifteen feet high, and inside of them you used to keep your great dogs, with hanging dewlaps, who barked night and day.' "Whatever he said, Jean-Claude, we saw. As for him, he seemed to pay no heed to us, but kept looking at the figures on the chimney-piece, with his mouth wide open; but at the end of a moment, having turned his head towards us, and seeing us all attentive, he began to laugh with that wild laugh of his, exclaiming: 'And at that time--oh! fair-haired men with blue eyes and white skins, fed on milk and cheese, and only drinking blood in the autumn, at the great hunts--you believed yourselves masters of the plain and of the mountain, when we, the red men with green eyes, sprung from the sea; we, who drank blood always, and loved nothing but war, arrived one fine morning, with our axes and our spears, coming up the Sarre under shadow of the old oaks. Ah! it was a cruel war, and one that lasted weeks and months. And the old woman, there,' said he, pointing to me, with a strange smile, 'the Margareth of the clan of the Kilberix, that old woman with the hooked nose--within her palisades, in the midst of her dogs and her warriors, defended herself like a she-wolf. But at the end of five moons hunger came: the gates of her palisades opened for flight, and we--in ambush in the stream--we massacred all--all, except the children and the beautiful young girls. The old woman alone, with her nails and her teeth, defended herself to the last. And I, Luitprand--I cleft her gray head, and I took her father, the blind man, the aged of many days, and chained him to the gate of my strong castle like a dog.' "Then, Hullin," continued the farm-mistress, bowing down her head--"then the fool began to sing a long song--the complaint of the old man chained to his gate. Wait while I try and remember it. It was sad--sad as _a miserere_. I cannot recollect it, Jean-Claude; but I seem to hear it still: it froze the marrow in my bones. And as he kept laughing all the while, our people at last grew furious. With a terrible cry, Duchêne sprang at the throat of the fool to strangle him; but he, stronger than you would think, repulsed him, and raising his staff threateningly, exclaimed: "'On your knees, slaves--on your knees! My armies are advancing. Do you hear them? The earth trembles beneath their tread. Those castles--the Nideck, the Haut-Barr, the Dagsberg, the Turkestein--you will have to rebuild them. On your knees!'