"Do not be alarmed," said the officer, in a friendly tone, when he saw
the frightened faces; "the danger is over, and you are quite safe. The
fire in the village, too, is almost quenched, and the mayor will soon be
here. I beg you for some refreshment, if it is only a morsel of bread
and a drink of water. It was sharp work," he added, wiping the
perspiration from his brow, "but, thank God, we have conquered,"
Provisions were scarce, for the village had been plundered by the enemy,
but the good lady brought forth a flask of wine and some rye bread, with
many regrets that she had nothing better to offer. But the visitor, as
he ate the bread with a hearty relish, declared that it was enough, for
it was the first morsel he had tasted that day.
Caroline ran and brought in on a porcelain plate some of the ripest
cherries from her own tree.
"Cherries!" exclaimed the officer. "They are a rarity in this district.
How did they escape the enemy? All the trees in the country around are
stripped."
"The cherries," said the mother, "are from a little tree which was
planted in Caroline's flower-garden on her birthday. It is but a few
days since they became ripe; the enemy, perhaps, did not notice the
little tree."
"And is it for me you intend the cherries, my dear child?" asked the
officer. "Oh no; you must keep them. It were a pity to take one of them
from you."
"How could we refuse a few cherries," said Caroline, "to the man that
sheds his blood in our defence? You must eat them all," said she, while
the tears streamed down her cheeks.
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