"No, indeed!" replied Mr. Goulden. "Everything is quiet. Do you hear anything?" "No." But you could see by their eyes, that they had heard the news. Zebede stayed at the barracks. The half-pay officers filled the cafe from morning till night, but not a word transpired, the affair was too serious. On the third day these officers, who were boiling over with impatience, were seen running back and forth, their very faces showing their terrible anxiety. If they had had horses or even arms, I am sure they would have attempted something. But the guards went and came also, with old Chancel at their head, and a courier was sent off hourly to Saarbourg. The excitement increased, nobody felt any interest in his work. We soon learned through the commercial travellers, who arrived at the "City of Basle," that the upper Rhine provinces and the Jura had risen, and that regiments of cavalry and infantry were following each other from Besancon, and that heavy forces had been sent against the usurper. One of these travellers having spoken rather too freely, was ordered to quit the town at once, the brigadier in command having examined his passport and, fortunately for him, found it properly made out. I have seen other revolutions since then, but never such excitement as reigned on the 8th of March between four and five in the evening, when the order arrived for the departure of the first and second battalions fully equipped for service for Lons-le-Saulnier. It was only then that the danger was fully realized, and every one thought, "It is not the Duke d'Angouleme nor the Duke de Berry that we need to arrest the progress of Bonaparte, but the whole of Europe." The faces of the officers on half-pay lighted up as with a burst of sunshine, and they breathed freely again. About five o'clock the first roll of the drum was heard on the square, when suddenly Zebede rushed in. "Well!" said Father Goulden to him. "The first two battalions are going away," he replied. He was very pale. "They are sent to stop him," said Mr. Goulden. "Yes," said Zebede, winking, "they are going to stop him." The drums still rolled. He went downstairs, four at a time. I followed him. At the foot of the stairs, and while he was on the first step, he seized me by the arm, and raising his shako, whispered in my ear: "Look, Joseph, do you recognize that?" I saw the old tri-colored cockade in the lining. "That is ours," he said, "all the soldiers have it."