Gambetta, having accepted the representation of the Bas Rhin (Alsace), left the chamber with the deputies; and other old republicans, contemptuously hissed whenever they opened their mouths, gave in their resignations. Paris was agitated. A rising was apprehended. About that time, early in March, 1871, Prussian tax-collectors, controllers, _gardes generaux_, and other functionaries, came to replace our own; we were warned that the French language would be abolished in our schools, and that the brave Alsacians who felt any wish to join the armies of the King of Prussia, would be met with every possible consideration; they might even be admitted into the guard of his Royal and Imperial Majesty. About this time, an old friend of Cousin George's, Nicolas Hague, a master saddler, a wealthy and highly respectable man, came to see him from Paris. Nicolas Hague had bought many vineyards in Alsace; he had planned, before the war, to retire amongst us, as soon as he had settled his affairs; but after all the cruelties perpetrated by the Germans, and seeing our country fallen into their hands, he was in haste to sell his vineyards again, not caring to live amongst such barbarians. George and Marie Anne were delighted to receive this old friend; and immediately an upstairs room was got ready for him, and he made himself at home. He was a man of fifty, with red ears, a kind of collar of beard around his face, large, velvet waistcoat adorned with gold chains and seals; a thorough Alsacian, full of experience and sound common-sense. His wife, a native of Bar-le-Duc, and his two daughters were staying with their relations; they were resting, and recruiting their strength after the sufferings and agonies of the siege; he was as busy as possible getting rid of his property; for he looked upon it as a disgrace to bring into the world children destined to have their faces slapped, in honor of the King of Prussia.