'What others?' said Frau Ebermann.
'The others—hundreds and hundreds and thousands and thousands of the others.'
'That is a lie. There cannot be a hundred even, much less a thousand,' cried Frau Ebermann.
'So?' said the girl politely.
'Yes. I tell you; and I have very good information. I know how it happened. You should have been more careful. You should not have run out to see the horses and guns passing. That is how it is done when our troops pass through. My son has written me so.'
They had clambered down from the sofa, and gathered round the bed with eager, interested eyes.
'Horses and guns going by—how fine!' some one whispered.
'Yes, yes; believe me, that is how the accidents to the children happen. You must know yourself that it is true. One runs out to look'
'But I never saw any at all,' a boy cried sorrowfully. 'Only one noise I heard. That was when Aunt Emmeline's house fell down.'
'But listen to me. I am telling you! One runs out to look, because one is little and cannot see well. So one peeps between the man's legs, and then—you know how close those big horses and guns turn the corners—then one's foot slips and one gets run over. That's how it happens. Several times it had happened, but not many times; certainly not a hundred, perhaps not twenty. So, you see, you must be all. Tell me now that you are all that there are, and Anna shall give you the cakes.'
