"Yes, yes, you must bestir yourselves," added Louise. "Gracious! what should become of us if we stood thinking months and weeks before putting a little onion into a sauce! Lesselé, you are the tallest, unhook me that parcel of onions from the ceiling." The girl obeyed. Hullin had never felt prouder in his life. "How she makes them move about!" thought he. "Ah! ha! ha! she is like a little hussar. I never should have believed it." After having watched them for five minutes, he went into the room. "Well done, my children!" Louise was holding a soup-ladle at the time. She let it fall, and threw herself into his arms, crying: "Papa Jean-Claude, is it you? you are not wounded? Nothing is the matter with you?" At the sound of this voice, Hullin turned pale, and could make no reply. After a long silence, pressing her to his heart, he said: "No, Louise, I am quite well; I am very happy." "Sit down, Jean-Claude," said the anabaptist, seeing him trembling with emotion; "here, take my chair." Hullin sat down, and Louise, with her arms on his shoulder, began to cry. "What is the matter, my child?" said the worthy man, kissing her. "Come, calm thyself. Only a few seconds ago thou wert so courageous." "Oh, yes, but I was only acting; I was very much afraid. I thought, 'Why does he not come?'" She threw her arms round his neck. Then a strange idea came into her head. She took him by the hand, crying: "Papa Jean-Claude, let us dance, let us dance!" And they made three or four turns. Hullin could not help laughing, and turning toward the grave anabaptist, said: "We are rather mad, Pelsly; do not let that astonish you." "No, Master Hullin, it is quite natural. King David himself danced before the ark after his great victory over the Philistines." Jean-Claude, astonished to find that he was like King David, made no reply. "And thou, Louise," he continued, stopping, "thou wert not afraid during this last battle?" "Oh, at first, with all the noise and the roaring of the cannons; but afterward I only thought of you and of Mamma Lefèvre." Master Jean-Claude grew silent again. "I knew," thought he, "that she was a brave girl. She has everything in her favor." Louise taking him by the hand, then led him to a regiment of pans around the fire, and showed him with delight her kitchen. "Here is the beef and roast mutton, here is General Jean-Claude's supper, and here is the soup for our wounded. Haven't we been busy! Lesselé and Katel would tell you so. And here is our bread," said she, pointing to a long row of loaves arranged on the table. "Mamma Lefèvre and I mixed up the flour." Hullin looked on astonished. "But that is not all," said she; "come over here." She took off the lid of a saucepan, and the kitchen was immediately filled with a savory odor which would have rejoiced the heart of a gourmand. Jean-Claude was deeply touched by all these proofs of attention to the wants of his men. Just then Mother Lefèvre came in.