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 And at the same time a head appeared from a hole in the ruins.

Then another face appeared in another place.

They were two peasants, who were hiding; the only ones who had survived.

The familiar voice of the caimand had reassured them, and brought them out of the nook where they were crouching.

They came up to Tellmarch still all of a tremble.

Tellmarch could have screamed, but he was unable to speak: such are deep emotions.

He pointed to the woman stretched out at his feet.

"Is she still alive?" said one of the peasants.

Tellmarch nodded assent.

"Is the other woman alive?" asked the other peasant.

Tellmarch shook his head.

The peasant who appeared first added,—

"All the others are dead, are they not? I saw it all. I was in my cellar. How one thanks God in times like these for not having a family! My house was burned. Lord Jesus! they have killed them all. This woman had children. Three children, all little things! The children cried: "Mother!" The mother cried: "My children!" They killed the mother and carried away the children. I saw it all, my God! my God! my God! Those who massacred them all have gone. They were satisfied. They took away the little ones and killed the mother. But she is not dead, is she; she is not dead? Tell me, caimand, do you believe you can save her? Do you want us to help you carry her to your carnichot?"

Tellmarch nodded assent.

The woods touched the farm. They quickly fashioned a litter out of leaves and brakes. They placed the woman, still motionless, on the litter and started to go through the thicket, the two peasants carrying the litter, one at her head, the other at her feet, while Tellmarch held the woman's arm, and felt her pulse.

As they went along, the two peasants talked, and, over the bleeding woman, whose pale face was lighted up by the moon, they gave utterance to exclamations of dismay.

"All killed!"

"Everything burned!"

"Ah, Lord God! Is this the way it is going to be now?"