"Pardon! Monsieur Guild, the Grey Uhlans rode over the border and laughed at the gendarme on duty. Straight they made for our hill meadows, riding at ease and putting their horses to the hedges. Schultz, our herdsman, saw them trotting like wolves of the Black Erenz, ran to the wooden fence to close the gate, but their lances rattling on the pickets frightened him. "They herded the cattle while their officers sat looking on by the summer fold. "'Do not these cattle and sheep belong to the Paillard estate?' asks one of the officers of Schultz. And, 'Very well then!' says he; 'we are liquidating an old account with Monsieur Paillard!' "And with that a company of the Grey Ones canters away across the valley and up the slope beyond where our shepherd, Jean Pascal, is sitting with his two dogs. "'You, there!' they call out to him. 'Send out your dogs and herd your sheep!' And, when he only gapes at them, one of their riders wheels on him, twirling his lance and shoves him with the counter-balance. "So they make him drive his flock for them across the valley, and then over the border--all the way on foot, Monsieur; and then they tell him to loiter no more but to go about his business. "That is what has happened on our hill pasture. He, the lad, Pascal, is over there with his dogs"--pointing toward the fold--"almost crazed with grief and shame. And, Schultz, he wishes us to organize as a franc-corps. Me? I don't know what to do--what with Monsieur Paillard away, and the forests in my care. Were it not for my responsibility----" "I know, Michaud. But what could an isolated franc-corps do? Far better to join your class if you can--when your responsibility here permits. Those young men, there, should try to do the same." "Monsieur is right! Even the classes of 1915, '16, and '17 have been called. I have reminded them. But this outrage on the hill pastures has inflamed them and made hot-heads of everybody. They wish to take their guns and hunt Grey Uhlans. They don't know what they are proposing. I saw something of that in '70. Why the Prussians hung or shot every franc-tireur they caught; and invariably the nearest village was burned. And I say to them that even if Monsieur Paillard is dead, as many are beginning to believe, his death does not alter our responsibility. Why should we bring reprisals upon his roof, his fields, his forests? No, that is not honest conduct. But if we are now really convinced of his death, as soon as Madame Courland leaves, let us turn over the estate to the proper authorities in Luxembourg. Then will each and all of us be free to join the colours when summoned--if God will only show us how to do it." "Madame Courland and mademoiselle ought to go tomorrow," said Guild. "One or another of your hotheads over there might get us into trouble this very night." "The man from Moresnet talks loudest. I have tried to reason with him," said Michaud. "Would you come to the fold with me?"