We succeeded at last in calming her, and then led her home, while round about us a noise like thunder seemed to come from the hills; although not a cloud was visible in the sky. We knew that Strasburg was being bombarded. The fact was, that the sound of the cannonade struck against the rock behind the spinner's cottage, and rolled thence along the little valleys between the hills. This lone woman, who could scarcely hear a man's voice, could distinctly perceive the roar of the artillery which shook her cottage. "My boy is there, my good, my brave son," she cried, when she was told that Strasburg was being bombarded. Then she broke out into a sort of chant: "In Strasburg is the minster; I was in service for five years in the Blauwolken Street; in Strasburg, in Strasburg, in Strasburg,"--it sounded like a doleful song. We wanted to induce her to come to us; even Marie wanted to take charge of her; but she caught hold of her table, crying, "No, no! I shall not go from here until I am carried out." That evening Joseph came for me, saying, that from the top of the stone-wall, the shells could be seen flying through the air. We accompanied him to the spot, and could see the shells rising, then falling and disappearing in little clouds of smoke. The stone-cutter, who had seen service as a soldier, pointed out to us the shells that exploded harmlessly in the air, and those which spread destruction as they burst. How is it with the people over there on whom this rain of fire is falling? What are they doing at home? What do they say, and think, and what consolation and support do they bring each other? I imagined myself among them, living with them. And my niece was there, too. She had thought to find protection there, and now she was in the greatest danger. And how must my sister, yonder in the forest of Hagenau, be wringing her hands at these sounds and sights! And we are sending death and destruction among those to whom we want to cry, "Come to us, stay with us." The language the cannon speak is a dreadful one. We had to return home at last. I was so confused and shocked, that Joseph had to lead me. I could hear the guns as I lay in bed; but after a while sleep comes to you in spite of noise and sorrow. Marie told me the next morning that the spinner had counted the shots by the hour during the night. When she had reached one hundred, beyond which she could not count, she buried her head in the pillow, crying, "I can count no further; I cannot; it is enough!" and had then fallen asleep. Marie asked our aid, for the spinner had said that, when daylight came, she would stand it no longer; she would go to her son. However, when the next day came she had forgotten her intention. She sat in her room, spinning, and whenever she heard the sound of a gun, would merely open her mouth, but say nothing. Not a word passed her lips for days.