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〃But I tell you that Nobody will kill Julio！ 。 。 。 He is my son。 In my youth I； too； passed through great dangers。 They wounded me； too； in the wars in the other world； and nevertheless； here I am at a ripe old age。〃
Events seemed to reinforce his blind faith。 Calamities were raining around the family and saddening his relatives； yet not one grazed the intrepid sub…lieutenant who was persisting in his daring deeds with the heroic nerve of a musketeer。
Dona Luisa received a letter from Germany。 Her sister wrote from Berlin； transmitting her letters through the kindness of a South American in Switzerland。 This time； the good lady wept for some one besides her son； she wept for Elena and the enemies。 In Germany there were mothers； too； and she put the sentiment of maternity above all patriotic differences。
Poor Frau von Hartrott！ Her letter written a month before； had contained nothing but death notices and words of despair。 Captain Otto was dead。 Dead； too； was one of his younger brothers。 The fact that the latter had fallen in a territory dominated by their nation； at least gave the mother the sad comfort of being able to weep near his grave。 But the Captain was buried on French soil； nobody knew where； and she would never be able to find his remains； mingled with hundreds of others。 A third son was wounded in Poland。 Her two daughters had lost their promised lovers； and the sight of their silent grief； was intensifying the mother's suffering。 Von Hartrott continued presiding over patriotic societies and making plans of expansion after the near victory； but he had aged greatly in the last few months。 The 〃sage〃 was the only one still holding his own。 The family afflictions were aggravating the ferocity of Professor Julius von Hartrott。 He was calculating； in a book he was writing； the hundreds of thousands of millions that Germany must exact after her triumph； and the various nations that she would have to annex to the Fatherland。
Dona Luisa imagined that in the avenue Victor Hugo； she could hear the mother's tears falling in her home in Berlin。 〃You will understand； Luisa； my despair。 。 。 。 We were all so happy！ May God punish those who have brought such sorrow on the world！ The Emperor is innocent。 His adversaries are to blame for it all 。 。 。〃
Don Marcelo was silent about the letter in his wife's presence。 He pitied Elena for her losses； so he overlooked her political connections。 He was touched； too； at Dona Luisa's distress about Otto。 She had been his godmother and Desnoyers his godfather。 That was soDon Marcelo had forgotten all about it； and the fact recalled to his mental vision the placid life of the ranch； and the play of the blonde children that he had petted behind their grandfather's back； before Julio was born。 For many years； he had lavished great affection on these youngsters； when dismayed at Julio's delayed arrival。 He was really affected at thinking of what must be Karl's despair。
But then； as soon as he was alone； a selfish coldness would blot out this compassion。 War was war； and the Germans had sought it。 France had to defend herself； and the more enemies fell the better。 。 。 。 The only soldier who interested him now was Julio。 And his faith in the destiny of his son made him feel a brutal joy； a paternal satisfaction almost amounting to ferocity。
〃No one will kill HIM！ 。 。 。 My heart tells me so。〃
A nearer trouble shook his peace of mind。 When he returned to his home one evening； he found Dona Luisa with a terrified aspect holding her hands to her head。
〃The daughter； Marcelo 。 。 。 our daughter！〃
Chichi was stretched out on a sofa in the salon； pale； with an olive tinge； looking fixedly ahead of her as if she could see somebody in the empty air。 She was not crying； but a slight palpitation was making her swollen eyes tremble spasmodically。
〃I want to see him；〃 she was saying hoarsely。 〃I must see him！〃
The father conjectured that something terrible must have happened to Lacour's son。 That was the only thing that could make Chichi show such desperation。 His wife was telling him the sad news。 Rene was wounded； very seriously wounded。 A shell had exploded over his battery； killing many of his comrades。 The young officer had been dragged out from a mountain of dead； one hand was gone； he had injuries in the legs； chest and head。
〃I've got to see him！〃 reiterated Chichi。
And Don Marcelo had to concentrate all his efforts in making his daughter give up this dolorous insistence which made her exact an immediate journey to the front； trampling down all obstacles； in order to reach her wounded lover。 The senator finally convinced her of the uselessness of it all。 She would simply have to wait； he； the father； had to be patient。 He was negotiating for Rene to be transferred to a hospital in Paris。
The great man moved Desnoyers to pity。 He was making such heroic efforts to preserve the stoic serenity of ancient days by recalling his glorious ancestors and all the illustrious figures of the Roman Republic。 But these oratorical illusions had suddenly fallen flat； and his old friend surprised him weeping more than once。 An only child； and he might have to lose him！ 。 。 。 Chichi's dumb woe made him feel even greater commiseration。 Her grief was without tears or faintings。 Her sallow face； the feverish brilliancy of her eyes； and the rigidity that made her move like an automaton were the only signs of her emotion。 She was living with her thoughts far away； with no knowledge of what was going on around her。
When the patient arrived in Paris； his father and fiancee were transfigured。 They were going to see him； and that was enough to make them imagine that he was already recuperated。
Chichi hastened to the hospital with her mother and the senator。 Then she went alone and insisted on remaining there； on living at the wounded man's side； waging war on all regulations and clashing with Sisters of Charity； trained nurses； and all who roused in her the hatred of rivalry。 Soon realizing that all her violence accomplished nothing； she humiliated herself and became suddenly very submissive； trying with her wiles； to win the women over one by one。 Finally； she was permitted to spend the greater part of the day with Rene
When Desnoyers first saw the wounded artilleryman in bed； he had to make a great effort to keep the tears back。 。 。 。 Ay； his son； too； might be brought to this sad pass！ 。 。 。 The man looked to him like an Egyptian mummy； because of his complete envelopment in tight bandage wrappings。 The sharp hulls of the shell had fairly riddled him。 There could only be seen a pair of sweet eyes and a blond bit of moustache sticking up between white bands。 The poor fellow was trying to smile at Chichi； who was hovering around him with a certain authority as though she were in her own home。
Two months rolled by。 Rene was better； almost well。 His betrothed had never doubted his recovery from the moment that they permitted her to remain with him。
〃No one that I love； ever dies；〃 she asserted with a ring of her father's self…confidence。 〃As if I would ever permit the Boches to leave me without a husband！〃
She had