"Jean," replied the other bourgeois, with as solemn a mien as his cousin, "I do not know what I should think or how I should feel if I bore an English name, and came of English stock; but I do know by experience that when a family has once been French, whether for a moment only or for more than two centuries, every other domination becomes insupportable to the members of that family, and seems to them as hard and bitter as slavery or banishment; furthermore, that one of my forefathers, Jean, who saw Calais fall into English hands, never spoke of France before his son without weeping, or of England without bitter hate. His son did the same with his own son; and this twofold sentiment of regret and detestation has been handed down from generation to generation without losing any of its strength or changing its form. The air of our old bourgeois houses is a great preservative. The Pierre Peuquoy of two centuries ago lives again in the Pierre Peuquoy of to-day; and with the same French name, I have the same French heart, Jean. The insult as well as the grief is as of yesterday. Say not that I have two countries, Jean; there is, and there can ever be, but one! And if the time comes when I must choose between the country to which men have made me submit and the country which God has given me, be sure that I shall not hesitate." "You hear, Monseigneur!" cried Jean, turning to Vicomte d'Exmès. "Yes, my friend, yes, I hear; and it is grand, it is noble!" was Gabriel's reply, albeit he seemed still a little distraught. "One word, Pierre," said Jean; "unfortunately all our fellow-countrymen here do not think with you, do they? No doubt you are the only child of France to be found in Calais at the end of two hundred years, who has not turned his back upon his mother-country." "You are wrong, Jean," replied the armorer; "I spoke in general, and not for myself alone. I do not say that every one who bears a French name, as I do, has not forgotten his origin; but many bourgeois families never have ceased to love France, and deeply regret their separation from her; and it is among these families that the Peuquoys like to select their wives. In the civic guard, of which I am a member against my will, there is many a citizen who would break his halberd in twain rather than turn it against a French soldier." "That's a very good thing to know," muttered Jean Peuquoy, rubbing his hands; "and you must hold some rank in this same civic guard? So well thought of and respected as you are, that goes without saying." "No, Jean; I have persistently refused all rank, so as to avoid all responsibility." "So much the worse, and yet so much the better! Is the duty you have to perform a hard one, Pierre? And does your turn come often?" "Well, yes," said Pierre, "the service is both frequent and hard, because in a place like Calais, the garrison is never large enough. My turn comes the 5th of every month."