As soon as the door was shut, she rose very calmly, and inventoried the property. "It is not much, but it is better than nothing. I am a daughter of France. I will be content with what is sent me; but I think the chain is oroide, and I know the shirt studs are snide." A few moments later Henri entered. She received him with evident signs of pleasure. "Therese," said the handsome young fellow, "I know that you love me. We attack the _canaille_ to-morrow. I come to bid you farewell. I may never see you again!" "Henri! I love you! But fight like a hero for France!" "Adorable! Rapture! This is peaches! I will fight; I will be a hero--I am in the hero line just now. You have given me a new heart. Oh, Therese!" And then there was more kissing and embracing, which was all very nice. Then Henri rose and said he must go. Mars could not wait upon Venus. France called him. "Must you go? Alas! But, Henri, should you fall, what would become of me?" "Die," said Henri, "and follow me to the next world." Therese said to herself, "Not much, I thank you. I know a trick worth two of that. I prefer to live." But she said audibly: "I cannot die, for I shall live to avenge you and France. But should you die on the field, the horrible Commune will take your watch, your chain, your personal effects, to continue this sacrilegious strife. Leave them with me." Henri emptied his pockets, and took off his watch and everything on his person that had value, even to his cuff buttons, and then Therese said: "You have your money in the hands of Duclos, the Notary. Give me an order for that, for he is affected toward the Commune. France before everything. When you return we will destroy the paper. Should you fall, I will spend it to avenge you." Then Henri wrote the order for the money, and the prudent girl had up the concierge, who witnessed it, to make it all legal like, and then with one passionate embrace she bade him farewell. "Stay, but for a moment, my heart's beloved," she said. "Foremost on the barricade to-morrow you will see a young man who is an enemy of France. There isn't much of him, but what there is, is pizen. You will know him--he is only five feet four high, has sandy hair and a pug nose, and very bandy legs. He ought to dance well, for he is put up on elliptic springs. He wears a red bow in his cap in front. He must die, for he is an enemy to France. Swear that he shall not live." "I swear. He is as good as dead now. You may bet your sweet life he populates a trench to-morrow night. He shall count one in the census of the hereafter." "Thanks--for France. And now, my beloved, go! Be a hero. But stay, wear this for my sake." And she pinned very securely upon the left side of his hat, a cockade, and they embraced once more, and he left the room, leaving her in a swoon. "Poor thing!" said he to himself, as he took one last look at her, curled up gracefully on the floor, "shall I leave her thus? Yes; she could not endure a second parting."