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} - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } -</style> -<title>BRIGADIER FREDERICK, THE DEAN'S WATCH</title> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="Brigadier Frederick, The Dean's Watch" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1902" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Erckmann-Chatrian" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="Brigadier Frederick, The Dean's Watch" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2015-10-11" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="50186" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> - -<link rel="schema.DCTERMS" href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" /> -<link rel="schema.MARCREL" href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators/" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.title" content="Brigadier Frederick, The Dean's Watch" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.source" content="/home/ajhaines/fred/fred.rst" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.language" content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.modified" content="2015-10-12T02:15:58.528129+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.publisher" content="Project Gutenberg" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.rights" content="Public Domain in the USA." /> -<link rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50186" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.creator" content="Erckmann-Chatrian" /> -<meta name="DCTERMS.created" content="2015-10-11" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" /> -<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width" /> -<meta name="generator" content="Ebookmaker 0.4.0a5 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="brigadier-frederick-the-dean-s-watch"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">BRIGADIER FREDERICK, THE DEAN'S WATCH</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no -restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> included with -this ebook or online at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>. If you -are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws -of the country where you are located before using this ebook.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: Brigadier Frederick, The Dean's Watch -<br /> -<br />Author: Erckmann-Chatrian -<br /> -<br />Release Date: October 11, 2015 [EBook #50186] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>BRIGADIER FREDERICK, THE DEAN'S WATCH</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="container frontispiece"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 60%" id="figure-71"> -<span id="emile-erckmann"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Emile Erckmann" src="images/img-front.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Emile Erckmann</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="container titlepage"> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 56%" id="figure-72"> -<span id="title-page"></span><img class="align-center block center" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Title page" src="images/img-title.jpg" /> -<div class="caption center centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Title page</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold xx-large">Brigadier Frederick</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">AND</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold xx-large">The Dean's Watch</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="medium">WITH A CRITICAL INTRODUCTION -<br />BY PROF. RICHARD BURTON, OF THE -<br />UNIVERSITY OF MINNESOTA</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="medium">A FRONTISPIECE AND NUMEROUS -<br />OTHER PORTRAITS WITH -<br />DESCRIPTIVE NOTES BY -<br />OCTAVE UZANNE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">P. F. COLLIER & SON -<br />NEW YORK</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="container verso"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">COPYRIGHT, 1902 -<br />BY D. APPLETON & COMPANY</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="erckmann-chatrian"><span class="bold large">ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Fashions change in literature, but certain -things abide. There may be disputes from -generation to generation, even from decade to decade, -as to what is æsthetic, or what is beautiful; there -is less as to what is human. The work of the -French writers, whose duality is quite lost in the -long-time association of their names for the -purposes of story making, seems at the least to make -this claim to outlast its authors: it is delightfully -saturated with humanity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And this humanity is of the sort that, since it -can be understood of all men, is therefore very -widely acceptable. It is well to emphasize the -point in an attempt to explain the popularity of -Erckmann-Chatrian, immediate or remote. There -are other reasons, to be sure: but this one is at -the door, knocking to be heard. But to speak of -the essential humanity of these books is not to -deny or ignore their art; that they have in -abundance--quite as truly indeed as the work of your -most insistent advocate of "art for art"; but it is -art for life's sake. In the best sense, the -verisimilitude of the Erckmann-Chatrian stories is -admirable, impressive. They are, as a rule, exquisitely in -key. They produce a cumulative effect by steadily, -unobtrusively clinging to a single view-point, that -of the speaker who is an eye-witness, and the -result is a double charm--that of reality and that of -illusion. One sees life, not through the eyes of -the authors, but through the eyes of the characters; -hence the frequent setting-forth of principles is -relieved from didacticism by the careful way in which -the writers refrain from expressing their own opinion. -So artistic are they that they even indulge in -the delicate ruse of opposing the views which are -really their own, thereby producing a still stronger -effect of fair-mindedness and detachment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yet, as the world knows, in the most justly -famed of their books, the so-called National -Novels, it is their purpose to preach against war; -they are early advocates of the principles of the -Peace Congress at The Hague, forerunners, in -their own fashion, of the ideas expressed in art -and literature by later men like Tolstoy and -Verestchagin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The local colour--one still uses the phrase as -convenient--is remarkable for its sympathetic -fidelity; the style well-nigh a model of prose -whose purpose it is to depict in homely yet -picturesque terms the passage of great events, seen -by humble, it may be Philistine, folk, and hence -not seen </span><em class="italics">couleur de rose</em><span>. When a heartfelt -sympathy for average human-kind rises to the surface -of the author's feeling, some candid, cordial phrase -is ever found to express it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The work of Erckmann-Chatrian, voluminous -as it is, can be easily classified: it mainly -consists of the idyl and the picture of war; </span><em class="italics">L'lllustre -Docteur Mathéus</em><span>, their first success, happily -illustrates the former </span><em class="italics">genre</em><span>; any one of the half dozen -tales making up the National Novel series may be -taken to represent the latter. Both veins turned -out to be gold mines, so rich were they in the -free-milling ore of popular favour. Such stories as -</span><em class="italics">L'Ami Fritz</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">The Brigadier Frederick</em><span> are -types of the two kinds of fiction which panned out -most richly also for the world. In the idyl dealing -with homely provincial life--the life of their home -province--these authors are, of a truth, masters. -The story is naught, the way of telling it, all that -breeds atmosphere and innuendo, is everything. In -</span><em class="italics">L'Ami Fritz</em><span> the plot may be told in a sentence: -'tis the wooing and winning of a country lass, -daughter of a farmer, by a well-to-do jovial -bachelor of middle age in a small town; </span><em class="italics">voilà tout</em><span>; -yet the tale makes not only delicious reading, it -leaves a permanent impression of pleasure--one is -fain to re-read it. It is rich in human nature, in a -comfortable sense of the good things of the earth; -food and drink, soft beds, one's seat at the tavern, -spring sunlight, and the sound of a fiddle playing -dance tunes at the fair: and, on a higher plane, of -the genial joys of comradeship and the stanch -belief in one's native land. When the subtler -passion of love comes in upon this simple pastoral -scene, the gradual discovery of Friend Fritz that -the sentiment he has always ridiculed has him at -last in its clutch, is portrayed with a sly unction, a -kindly humour overlying an unmistakable tenderness -of heart, which give the tale great charm. -Sweetness and soundness are fundamentals of such -literature.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This tale is a type of them all, though -deservedly the best liked. Love of nature and of -human nature, a knowledge of the little, significant -things that make up life, an exquisite realism -along with a sort of temperamental optimism -which assumes good of men and women—these -blend in the provincial stories in such a way that -one's sense of art is charmed while in no less -degree one's sense of life is quickened and -comforted. Erckmann-Chatrian introduced to French -readers the genuine Alsatian, not the puppet of -the vaudeville stage. Their books are, among -other things, historical documents. From their -sketches and tales better than in any other way -one can gain an understanding of the present -German provinces of Alsace and Lorraine during a -period stretching from the Revolution to and after -the Franco-Prussian war. The Alsatian in their -hands is seen distinctly as one of the most -interesting of Gallic provincial types.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The attitude of Dr. Mathéus, that charming -physician savant, who is in love with science, with -the great world of scholarship and literary fame, -and so is fain to leave his simple countryside in -quest of renown—in his final return to his home as, -after all, the best spot on earth, typifies the -teaching of these authors in all their works. The tale is -a sort of allegory, veiling a sermon on the value of -the "fireside clime" of home hearths and hearts. -Nor must it be forgotten that these writers -cultivated the short story or tale with vigour and -success; </span><em class="italics">The Dean's Watch</em><span>, printed in the present -volume, is an excellent example of the </span><em class="italics">genre</em><span>. -Erckmann-Chatrian, especially in the earlier years -of their conjoined labour, wrote numerous pieces -of short fiction which abounded in gruesome -adventure and situations more or less startling—witness -the Heidelberg murder story. They possessed -a considerable talent for the detective -fiction brought to a fine art by Poe and worthily -carried on in our day by Conan Doyle. Yet -even here the work has a higher value—perhaps -the highest—for the thoughtful reader in that it -affords a faithful transcript of German life in -time gone by; the authors, although so -circumscribed in space, are in some sort historians of -piquant social conditions. It is commonly said -that your true short-story writer is not a novelist, -nor the other way about. But </span><em class="italics">The Dean's -Watch</em><span>, and a dozen other tales that could be -named, are little master-pieces not to be omitted -in any just, comprehensive survey of these fecund -authors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The National Novels differ from these simpler -tales in more than theme and the fuller body and -greater variety they possess; the authors' aim in -the series sets the books apart from the other -stories. This group is made up of tales that fairly -may be called "purpose fiction," in the present -cant. Erckmann-Chatrian agree to hate war and -to justify their hate by writing a succession of -books portraying its horrors, always from the -disadvantage-point of actual humble participants and -onlookers, so that the plea shall appear to be at -once fairly made and yet be overwhelming in -effect. Of the result, surely it may be said of the -National Novels that if they are not magnificent, -they are war—war stript of its glory, reduced to -the one grim denominator of human misery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The successive national struggles of France -towards that peaceful Republicanism which has -now endured long enough to induce the outside -world into a belief that this volatile, fiery people -will never revert to any form of monarchy, are -sketched so graphically as to give a clear -comprehension of their history. Nowhere is the artistry -of the authors better exhibited than in the skill -with which, by placing their own position in the -mouths of others and by means of their remarkable -power in characterization, they rob special -pleading of that didacticism which is so deadly -an enemy of good fiction. To secure an effect -of verisimilitude no method of story-telling is -perhaps so useful as that in which one of the -characters speaks in proper person. What the -author loses in omniscience, he more than gains -in the impression of reality. This method is -admirable in the hands of Erckmann-Chatrian, -who consistently use it in their fiction. Do the -writers of any other nation, one is tempted to -query, offer such frequent examples of good taste -in this avoidance of the too didactic as do the -French? In some English hands so strenuous an -attempt would have seemed heavily intolerable. -Here one forgets all but the naturalness of word -and action in the characters; and the lesson sinks -the deeper into the mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In justice both to our authors and the present-day -temper, it may be declared that the Twentieth -Century is likely to be more sympathetic to their -particular thesis than was their own time. There -is a popular treatment of war which bedecks it in -a sort of stage tinsel, to the hiding of its gaunt -figure and cadaverous face. Some of Scott's -romances are of this order. Zola, with his epic -sweep in </span><em class="italics">Le Débâcle</em><span>, does not disguise the horrors -of the Franco-Prussian struggle. Yet epic it is, -and in a sense, romantic; handled by a poet -whose imagination is aroused by the magnitude -and movement of his theme. Erckmann-Chatrian -set themselves squarely against this conception; -they reduce the splendid trappings and </span><em class="italics">elan</em><span> of -battle to its true hideousness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In order to depict the inevitable, wretched -results of the killing of men for purposes of -political ambition, or national aggrandizement, -Erckmann-Chatrian, as in their provincial idyls, -cling steadily to the position of the average man, -who cannot for the life of him see the use of leaving -all that is pleasant and dear, of fighting, marching, -sickening, and dying for the sake of a cause -he does not understand or believe in, as the slave -of men whom he perhaps despises. Joseph Berta, -the lame conscript, the shrewd, kindly Jew -Mathieu, the common-sense miller Christian Weber, -protagonists in three well-known stories, each -distinct from the other, are all alike in their -preference for peace over war, for the joy of home and -the quiet prosecution of their respective affairs, -instead of the dubious pleasures of siege and campaign.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There is a superbly </span><em class="italics">bourgeois</em><span> flavour to it all. -Yet one feels its force, its sound humanity. The -republicanism of these writers is of the broadest -kind. They hate Bonaparte or Bourbon, because -in their belief either house stands for tyranny and -corruption; while Napoleon is their special -detestation, the later Empire is vigorously assailed -because it, too, is opposed to the interests of the -people. Napoleon III., whom in high satiric -scorn they pillory as "The Honest Man," comes -in for savage condemnation, since he again brings -woe upon the working folk, in pursuit of his own -selfish ends. And underneath all, like a -ground-swell can be felt a deep and genuine, if homely, -patriotism.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Human nature, as it is witnessed in the pages -of Erckmann-Chatrian, is not hard to decipher. -It lacks the subtlety of the modern psychologue, -miscalled a novelist. Humanity for them is made -up of two great contrasted elements—the people -and the enemies of the people; the latter made -up of kings, politicians, government leaders, and -the general world of bureaucracy, who fleece the -former, "that vast flock which they were always -accustomed to shear, and which they call the -people." But the people themselves, how -veritable and charming they are! Not a whit are -they idealized; the fictional folk of these writers -are always recognisable; they give us that pleasure -of recognition which Mr. James points out as one -of the principal virtues of modern novel-making. -The title of one of the well-known books, </span><em class="italics">The -History of a Man of the People</em><span>, might almost -stand as a description of their complete works. -There is no sentimentalizing of average humanity; -none of the Auerbach or George Sand prettification -of country life. Erckmann-Chatrian are as -truthful as a later realist like Thomas Hardy. The -family life in </span><em class="italics">The Brigadier Frederick</em><span> is almost -lyrically set forth, until it seems, mayhap, too -good for human nature's daily food; but similar -scenes in other stories have a Dutch-like fidelity -in their transcripts of the coarser, less lovely -human traits; recall the wife and daughter of -Weber, for example, or the well-nigh craven fear -of Joseph Berta in </span><em class="italics">The Plebiscite</em><span>, who seems half -a poltroon until he is seasoned in a Napoleonic -campaign; the psychologic treatment here -suggesting Stephen Crane's </span><em class="italics">The Red Badge of -Courage</em><span>. The blend of grim realism and heroic -patriotism in the figure of the old sergeant in -</span><em class="italics">The Plebiscite</em><span> is a fine illustration of that truth -to both the shell and kernel of life which -Erckmann-Chatrian maintain throughout their work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the whole, then, it is a comfortable, -enheartening conception of Man they present. Poor -theologians they would make; men are by nature -good and kind; only warped by cruel misuse and -bad masters, as in war. "Ah, it is a great joy to -love and to be loved, the only one joy of life," -exclaims the Jew Mathieu in </span><em class="italics">The Blockade</em><span>. This -simple yet sufficient creed pervades their thought. -Again and again is it declared that whatever the -apparent evil, so that the faithful-hearted and -devout of the world, like Father Frederick, lose -courage for the moment, the fault is with men -upon earth, not in heaven. High over all, God -reigns. A spirit of kindliness, quiet, unheroic, -but deep and tender, enswathes the more serious -part of these novels like an atmosphere; and if the -mood shifts to indignation, it is the righteous -indignation of the good in the face of that which is -wrong and evil. And these better human attributes -are most commonly found in the provinces; -the city, as a rule, spells sin. The touch of mother -earth brings purity and strength. "La mauvaise -race qui trompe," declares the Brigadier Frederick, -"n'existe pas au pays; elle est toujours venue -d'ailleurs." One smiles at this, but it offends not -nor seems absurd. Its very prejudice is lovable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps none of the stories make so moving -an appeal against war as </span><em class="italics">The Brigadier Frederick</em><span>. -Its sadness is the most heartfelt, its realism the -most truthful, and hence effective. Nor in any -other book of the War Series does the French -character shine more clearly in its typical virtues. -Family love and faith, </span><em class="italics">camaraderie</em><span>, humble -devoutness in religion, and earnest patriotism are -constantly made manifest in this fine tale. -Instead of conducting their hero through the -spectacular scenes of military campaigns, the authors -depict only the stay-at-home aspects of war, which -because of their lack of strut and epic colour are, -as a rule, overlooked, and which yet illustrate far -better than the most Zolaesque details the wretched -</span><em class="italics">milieu</em><span> and after effects of a great national -struggle. Frederick, the old guard of the Alsatian -forest domains, loses in turn his post, his son-in-law, -wife, and daughter, and at last his native -land; and through all his misery remains proudly a -Frenchman, who refuses to declare allegiance to -the German invaders; and, in being true to his -convictions, furnishes a noble example of a man -who, by the moral test, rises superior to any -fate, his head being</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>"bloody but unbowed."</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Again, sad as the story is, it differs from too -much of the tragedy of current literature; it is sad -for the sake of a purpose, not for sadness' sake. -Alleviation is offered the reader from the beginning, -in that he knows that Frederick himself has -survived all his woes, since he is telling his tale to -a friend in after years. These qualities make the -work wholesome and beautiful, sound both for art -and life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Erckmann-Chatrian draw strength from mother-soil. -Their stories are laid in Alsace-Lorraine, -or at least it is that debatable land whence the -characters go only to return for the peaceful -denouement, which these authors, in the good -old-fashioned style, like to offer their readers. The -popularity of such writers brings us back, happily, -to that untechnical valuation of literature which -insists, first of all, in regarding it as an exposition -of human experience. Their books bear translation -especially well because there is something -in them besides incommunicable flavours of style, -though style is not wanting; namely, vital folk, -vivid scenes, significant happenings. Theirs is -the misleading simplicity of method and manner -which hides technique of a rare and admirable -kind. Allowing for all exaggeration for altered -ideals in fiction, and for the waning of interest in -the historical circumstances which they portray, -there remain such elements of permanent appeal -as to give their books far more than a transient -worth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For more than forty years, Erckmann-Chatrian -wrote as one man; their collaboration was, -in effect, a chemical union. No example in literature -better illustrates the possibility of the merging -of individualities for the purposes of artistic -unity. The double work of the English Besant -and Rice is by no means so important nor do they -stand and fall together in the same sense; much -of Besant's typical fiction being produced after -his partner's death. In the case of the most famed -collaboration of older days, that of the dramatists -Beaumont and Fletcher, the union was more -intimate. But the early death of Beaumont, the -consideration that he wrote less than half the plays -conventionally attributed to their joint authorship, -and the additional consideration that some of the -best and most enjoyable dramas associated with -these great names—</span><em class="italics">The Loyal Subject</em><span>, to mention -but one—are unquestionably of Fletcher's sole -composition, make the Beaumont-Fletcher alliance -not so perfect an example of literary collaboration -as is offered by Erckmann-Chatrian. When -Chatrian died in 1890, it was as if, for literary -purposes, both died. Their work had a unity -testifying to a remarkable if not unique congeniality -in temperament, view and aim, as well as to a -fraternal unity which—alas! the irony of all human -friendships—was dispelled when their quarrel, just -before the death of Chatrian, put an end to an -association so fruitful and famous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From the very nature of fiction in contrast -with drama, it would seem as if collaboration in -stage literature were more likely to yield happy -results than in the case of the novel. Here, -however, is an example setting aside </span><em class="italics">a priori</em><span> -reasoning; seemingly "helpless each without the other," -the final breach in their personal relations would -seem to have written Finis to their literary -endeavour. Yet Erckmann survived for nearly a -decade and wrote military stories, which in tone and -temper carried on the traditions of the two men. -But we may easily detect in this last effort the -penalty of their literary severance: the loss of the -craftsmanship of Chatrian was a loss indeed. Nor -is this subjective guess-work of the critic; -Erckmann himself described nearly twenty years ago -the respective parts played by the two in their -literary work. He declared that after a story had -been blocked out and thoroughly talked over -between them, he did all the actual composition. -Then was it Chatrian's business to point out faults, -to suggest, here a change in perspective, there -less emphasis upon a subsidiary character, or here -again, a better handling of proportion—in short, -to do all the retouching that looks to artistry. -And Erckmann goes on to testify in good set -terms how necessary his collaborator was to the -final perfected form of the story; how much it -must have suffered without his sense of technique. -It would appear from this that the senior member -of the firm did what is commonly called the -creative work of composition, the junior filling the -role of critic. From France one hears that -Erckmann was very German in taste and sympathy -(</span><em class="italics">mirabile dictu!</em><span> in view of so much of what he -wrote); Chatrian, French to the core, a man who -insisted on residing on the French side of the national -line, who reared his sons to be French soldiers; -whereas Erckmann in later years hobnobbed with -the Germans, members of his family, in fact, -inter-marrying with his ancient enemies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Indeed, this last act of their personal history -has its disillusionment. But after all, men shall -be judged in their works. Whatever their private -quarrellings, their respective parts in literary -labour, their attributes or national leanings, the world, -justly caring most in the long run for the fiction -they wrote, will continue to think of them as -provincial patriots, lovers of their country, and -Frenchmen of the French, not only in the tongue -they used, but in those deep-lying characteristics -and qualities which make their production -worthily Gallic in the nobler implication of the word.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>RICHARD BURTON.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="lives-of-erckmann-and-chatrian"><span class="bold large">BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">The celebrated friends who collaborated for fifty -years under the title of</em><span> ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN -</span><em class="italics">were natives of the department of the Meurthe, in -Alsace-Lorraine</em><span>. ÉMILE ERCKMANN </span><em class="italics">was born at -Phalsbourg (now Pfalzburg), on the 20th of May, -1822. His father was a bookseller; his mother -he lost early. He was educated at the grammar -school of Phalsbourg, and was a boarder there, -growing up an intractable and idle boy. At the -age of twenty Erckmann went up to Paris to study -law, but he was inattentive to his work, and -positively took fifteen years to pass the necessary -examinations; having done so, he made no further rise -of his profession. When he was twenty-five he -suffered from a serious illness, and during his -convalescence, in Alsace, he turned his attention to -literature. At this moment there had arrived in -Phalsbourg; as an usher in the grammar school, a -young Alsatian</em><span>, ALEXANDRE CHATRIAN, </span><em class="italics">of Italian -descent, who was born at Soldatenthal, near -Abreschwiller, on the 18th of December, 1826, and -who was destined for the trade of glass-worker. -He had been sent in 1844, as an apprentice, to the -glass-works in Belgium, but had, in opposition to -the wish of his parents, determined to return and -to be a schoolmaster in France.</em></p> -<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">Erckmann and Chatrian now met, and instantly -felt irresistibly drawn to one another. From -this time until near the end of their careers their -names were melted indissolubly into one. In 1848 -a local newspaper, "Le Démocrate du Rhin," -opened its columns to their contributions, and they -began to publish novels. Their first great success -was "L'Illustre Docteur Mathéus" in 1859, which -appeared originally in the "Revue Nouvelle," and -which exactly gauged the taste of the general -public. This was followed by "Contes Fantastiques" -and "Contes de la Montague," in 1860; by "Maître -Daniel Rock," in 1861; by "Contes des Bords du -Rhin" and "Le Fou Yégof" in 1862; "Le Joueur -de Clarinette" in 1863; and in 1864, which was -perhaps the culminating year of the talent of -Erckmann-Chatrian, by "Madame Thérèse," "L'Ami -Fritz" and "L'Histoire d'un Conscrit de 1813." -These, and innumerable stories which followed -them, dealt almost entirely with scenes of country -life in Alsace and the neighbouring German -Palatinate. The authors adopted a strong Chauvinist -bias, and at the time of the Franco-German War -their sympathies were violently enlisted on the side -of France.</em></p> -<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">In 1872 Erckmann-Chatrian published a -political novel which enjoyed an immense success, -"Histoire du Plébiscite"; in 1873, "Les Deux -Frères", and they concluded in many volumes their -long romance "Histoire d'un Paysan." Two of -the latest of their really striking romances were -"Les Vieux de la Vielle," 1882, and "Les -Rantzau," 1884. During this period, however, their -great vogue was the theatre, where in 1869 they -produced "Le Juif Polonais," and in 1877 "L'Ami -Fritz," two of the most successful romantic plays -of the nineteenth century, destined to be popular in -all parts of the world. After the war of 1870-'71 -Erckmann lived at Phalsbourg; which was -presently annexed to German Lothringen, and he -became a German citizen; Chatrian continued to -reside in Paris, and remained a Frenchman. For -a long time the friends continued to collaborate on -the old terms of intimacy, though at a distance -from one another, but a quarrel finally separated -them, on a vulgar matter of interest. Erckmann -claimed, and Chatrian refused, author's rights on -those plays which bore the name of both writers, -although Chatrian had composed them unaided. -The rupture became complete in 1889, when the old -friends parted as bitter enemies. Chatrian died a -year later, on the 4th of September, 1890, from a -stroke of apoplexy, at Villemomble, near Paris. -Erckmann left Phalsbourg, and settled at -Lunéville, where he died on the 14th of March, 1899. -The temperament of Erckmann was phlegmatic -and melancholy; that of Chatrian impetuous and -fiery. They were strongly opposed to the theories -of the realists, which assailed them in their -advancing age, and they stated their own principles -of literary composition in "Quelques mots -sur l'esprit humain," 1880, and its continuation -"L'Art et les Grands Idéalistes," 1885. For a -long time their popularity was unequalled by that -of any other French novelist, largely because their -lively writings were pre-eminently suited to family -reading. But they never achieved an equal -prominence in purely literary estimation.</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>E.G.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="contents"><span class="bold large">CONTENTS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><a class="reference internal" href="#erckmann-chatrian">Erckmann-Chatrian</a></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><em class="italics">Richard Burton</em></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><a class="reference internal" href="#lives-of-erckmann-and-chatrian">Lives of Erckmann and Chatrian</a></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><em class="italics">Edmund Gosse</em></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#brigadier-frederick">Brigadier Frederick</a></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-dean-s-watch">The Dean's Watch</a></p> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-portraits-of-erckmann-and-chatrian">The Portraits of Erckmann and Chatrian</a></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><em class="italics">Octave Uzanne</em></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 62%" id="figure-73"> -<span id="chatrian"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Chatrian" src="images/img-xviii.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Chatrian</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="brigadier-frederick"><span class="bold large">BRIGADIER FREDERICK</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold">I</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When I was brigadier forester at Steinbach, -said Father Frederick to me, and when I was the -inspector of the most beautiful forest district in -all the department of Saverne, I had a pretty -cottage, shaded by trees, the garden and orchard -behind filled with apple trees, plum trees, and -pear trees, covered with fruit in the autumn; with -that four acres of meadow land along the bank of -the river; when the grandmother, Anne, in spite -of her eighty years, still spun behind the stove, -and was able to help about the house; when my -wife and daughter kept house and superintended -the stables and the cultivation of our land, and -when weeks, months, and years passed in their -tranquility like a single day. If at that time any -one had said to me, "See here, Brigadier Frederick, -look at this great valley of Alsace, that -extends to the banks of the Rhine; its hundreds -of villages, surrounded by harvests of all kinds: -tobacco, hops, madder, hemp, flax, wheat, barley -and oats, over which rushes the wind as over the -sea; those high factory chimneys, vomiting clouds -of smoke into the air; those wind-mills and -sawmills; those hills, covered with vines; those great -forests of beech and fir trees, the best in France -for ship-building; those old castles, in ruins for -centuries past, on the summits of the mountains; -those fortresses of Neuf-Brisach, Schlestadt, -Phalsbourg, Bitche, that defend the passes of the -Vosges. Look, brigadier, as far as a man's eye -can reach from the line of Wissembourg to Belfort. -Well, in a few years all that will belong to -the Prussians; they will be the masters of all; -they will have garrisons everywhere; they will -levy taxes; they will send preceptors, censors, -foresters, and schoolmasters into all the villages, -and the inhabitants will bend their backs; they -will go through the military drill in the German -ranks, commanded by the feldwebel[#] of the -Emperor William." If any one had told me that, I -would have thought the man was mad, and, even -in my indignation, I should have been very likely -to have given him a backhander across the face.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Sergeant.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>He would only have told the truth, however, -and he would not even have said enough, for we -have seen many other things; and the most -terrible thing of all for me, who had never quitted -the mountain, is to see myself, at my old age, in -this garret, from which I can see only the tiles -and chimney-pots; alone, abandoned by Heaven -and earth, and thinking day and night of that -frightful story.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes, George, the most terrible thing is to -think! Foxes and wolves that are wounded lick -themselves and get well. Kids and hares that are -hurt either die at once, or else hide in a thicket -and end by recovering. When a dog's puppies -are taken away, the poor beast pines for a few -days; then she forgets, and all is forgotten. But -we men cannot forget, and as time goes on we -realize our misery more and more, and we see -many sad things that we had not felt at first. -Injustice, bad faith, selfishness, all grow up before -our eyes like thorns and briers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, since you desire to know how I -happened to get into this hovel in the heart of La -Villette, and the way in which I have passed my -life up to the present time, I will not refuse to -answer you. You can question many other people -beside myself; persons of different occupations—workmen, -peasants emigrated from down yonder; -all the tumble-down houses of La Villette and La -Chapelle are filled with them. I have heard that -more than two hundred thousand have left. It is -possible. When I quitted the country the roads -were already overcrowded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But you know all about these things as well as -I do; so I will tell about what concerns me alone, -beginning at the beginning. That will be the -simplest way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When your grandfather, M. Münsch, the President -of the Tribunal, obtained promotion, in 1865, -and left for Brittany, I was very glad of it, in one -way, for he deserved to be promoted; I have -never seen a better or more learned man. Saverne -was not the place for him. But, on the other -hand, I was very sorry for it. My father, the -former forester of Dôsenheim, had never spoken -to me of President Münsch but with the greatest -respect, repeating to me, over and over again, that -he was our benefactor, that he had always liked -our family. I myself owed to him my good post -at Steinbach, and it was also on his recommendation -that I got my wife, Catherine Burat, the only -daughter of the former brigadier, Martin Burat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After that, you can readily believe that, in -going to make my report at Saverne, it was always -with emotion that I gazed upon that good house, -where, for twenty years, I had been so kindly -received, and I regretted that noble man; it made -my heart very sad. And, naturally, we missed -very much, no longer having you to spend the -vacations with us. We were so used to having -you, that, long in advance, we would say: "The -month of September is coming round; little -George will soon be here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My wife arranged the bed upstairs; she put -lavender in the well-bleached sheets, and she -washed the floor and window-panes. I prepared -snares for the thrushes and bait of all kinds for the -trout; I repaired the tomtits' hut under the rocks; -I tried the whistles for the bird-calls, and made -new ones with lead and geese bones; I arranged -everything in order in our boxes—the hooks, the -lines, the flies, made of cock feathers; laughing -beforehand at the pleasure of seeing you rummage -among them, and of hearing you say: "See here, -Father Frederick, you must wake me up to-morrow -morning at two o'clock, without fail; we will -start long before day!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I knew very well that you would sleep like a -top till I should come to shake you and to scold -you for your laziness; but at night, before going -to bed, you always wanted to be up at two o'clock, -or even at midnight; that amused me greatly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then I saw you in the hut, keeping so -still while I whistled on the bird-call that you -scarcely dared to breathe; I heard you trembling -on the moss when the jackdaws and thrushes -arrived, wheeling under the trees to see; I heard -you whisper, softly: "There they are, there they -are!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You were almost beside yourself when there -came a great cloud of tomtits, which usually -happened just at daybreak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes, George, all these things rejoiced my -heart, and I looked forward to the vacations with -as much impatience perhaps as you did. Our little -Marie-Rose also rejoiced in the thought of soon -seeing you again; she hastened to plait new snares -and to repair the meshes of the nets which had got -broken the year before. But then all was over; -you were never to return, and we knew it well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two or three times that poor idiot Calas, who -looked after our cows in the field, seeing afar off -on the other slope of the valley some persons who -were on their way to Dôsenheim, came running in, -crying, with his mouth open as far as his ears, -"Here he is, here he is! It is he; I recognise -him; he has his bundle under his arm!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Ragot barked at the heels of that idiot. -I should have liked to have knocked them both -over, for we had learned of your arrival at Rennes, -and the President himself had written that you -regretted Steinbach every day. I was in a bad -enough humour, without listening to such cries.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Often, too, my wife and Marie-Rose, while -arranging the fruit on the garret floor, would say: -"What fine melting pears, what good gray rennets! -Ah! if George returned, he would roll them round -from morning till night. He would do nothing -but run up and down stairs." And then they -would smile, with tears in their eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And how often I myself, returning from the -bird-catching, and throwing on the table my -bunches of tomtits, have I not cried: "Look! -there are ten or twelve dozen of them. What is -the good of them now the boy is no longer here? -Might as well give them to the cat; for my part, -I despise them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was true, George; I never had a taste for -tomtits, or even for thrushes. I always liked -better a good quarter of beef, with now and then only -a little bit of game, by way of change.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Well, it is thus that the time passed just after -your departure. That lasted for some months, and -finally our ideas took another course, and that the -more because, in the month of January, 1867, a -great misfortune happened to us.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="ii"><span class="bold large">II</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In the depth of the winter, while all the roads -and the mountain paths were covered with snow, -and we heard every night the branches of the -beech trees breaking like glass under their load of -ice, to the right and left of the house, one evening -my wife, who, since the commencement of the -season, had gone to and fro looking very pale and -without speaking, said to me, towards six o'clock, -after having lighted the fire in the fireplace, -"Frederick, I am going to bed. I do not feel well. I -am cold."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had never said anything like that before. -She was a woman who never complained and who, -during her youth, had looked after her house up -to the very day before her confinements. I -suspected nothing, and I replied to her:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Catherine, do not put yourself out. You -work too hard. Go and rest. Marie-Rose will do -the cooking."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I thought "once in twenty years is not too -much; she may well rest herself a little."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marie-Rose heated a jug of water to put under -her feet, and we took our supper of potatoes and -clotted milk as tranquilly as usual. We were not -at all uneasy, and about nine o'clock, having -smoked my pipe near the stove, I was about to go -to bed, when, on coming near the bed, I saw my -wife, white as a sheet, and with her eyes wide -open. I said to her,</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Helloa, Catherine!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she did not stir. I repeated "Catherine," -and shook her by the arm. She was already cold. -The courageous woman had not lain down till -the last moment, so to speak; she had lost much -blood without complaining. I was a widower. -My poor Marie-Rose no longer had a mother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That crushed me terribly. I thought I should -never recover from the blow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old grandmother, who for some time had -scarcely ever stirred from her arm-chair, and who -seemed always in a dream, awoke. Marie-Rose -uttered cries and sobs which could be heard out of -doors, and even Calas, the poor idiot, stammered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, if I had only died instead of her!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And as we were far away in the woods, I was -forced to transport my poor wife to bury her, to -the church at Dôsenheim, through the great snows. -We went in a line, with the coffin before us in the -cart. Marie-Rose wept so much that I was forced -to support her at every step. Fortunately the -grandmother did not come; she sat at home in -her arm-chair, reciting the prayers for the dead. -We did not return that evening till it was dark -night. And now the mother was yonder under -the snow, with the old Burat family, who are all in -the cemetery of Dôsenheim behind the church; -she was there, and I thought:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What will become of the house? Frederick, -you will never marry again; you have had a good -wife and who knows if the second would not be -the worst and the most extravagant in the country. -You will never take another. You will live like -that, all alone. But what will you do? Who will -take care of everything? Who will look after your -interest day and night? The grandmother is too -old and the girl is still a mere child."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was miserable, thinking that everything would -go to ruin and that my savings of so many years -would be wasted from day to day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But my little Marie-Rose was a real treasure, a -girl full of courage and good sense, and no sooner -was my wife dead than she put herself at the head -of our affairs, looking after the fields, the cattle, -and the household, and ruling Calas like her -mother. The poor fellow obeyed her; he understood -in his simplicity that she was now the mistress -and that she had the right to speak for everybody.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so things go on earth. When we have -had such trials we think that nothing worse can -happen to us, but all that was merely the beginning, -and when I think of it, it seems to me that -our greatest happiness would have been, all to -have died together upon the same day.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="iii"><span class="bold large">III</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Thus all our joys, all our satisfactions passed -away, one after the other. The old house to which -I formerly returned, laughing from afar, only to -see its little windows glittering in the sun and its -little chimney smoking between the tops of the -fir trees, was then sad and desolate. The winter -appeared very long to us. The fire which sparkles -so joyously on the hearth when the white flowers -of the frost cover the panes, and when silence -reigns in the valley, that fire which I had so often -gazed at for half an hour at a time while smoking -my pipe, thinking of a thousand things that passed -through my head, now gave me none but -melancholy thoughts. The fagots wept; poor Ragot -sought in every corner, he wandered up stairs and -down and smelt under all the doors; Calas wove -baskets in silence, the oziers piled in front of him; -grandmother Anne told her beads, and Marie-Rose, -very pale and dressed in black, came and went -through the house, watching over all and doing -everything without noise like her poor mother. -As for me, I said nothing; when death has entered -anywhere all lamentations that one makes are pure -loss. Yes, that winter was long!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then the spring came as in other years; -the firs and beech trees put forth their buds; the -windows were opened to renew the air: the great -pear tree before the door became covered with -white flowers; all the birds of the air began once -more to sing, to chase each other, and to build -nests as if nothing had happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I also returned to my work, accompanying the -chief guard, M. Rameau, in his circuits in order to -direct the wood felling, overlooking the works -from a distance, leaving early in the morning and -returning late, at the last song of the thrushes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My grief pursued me everywhere, and yet I -had still the consolation of seeing Marie-Rose grow -in strength and beauty in a truly marvellous way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is not, George, because I was her father that -I tell you this, but you would have had to search -for a long time from Saverne to Lutzelstein before -finding as fresh-looking a young girl with as trim -a figure, as honest an air, with such beautiful blue -eyes and such magnificent fair hair. And how -well she understood all kinds of work, whether in -the house or out of doors! Ah, yes, I may well -say it, she was a beautiful creature, gentle and yet -strong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Often coming in at night and seeing her at the -head of the stairs, signing to me that she had -waited supper a long time for me, then running -down the stairs and holding out to me her fresh -cheek, I have often thought:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is still handsomer than her mother was at -the same age; she has the same good sense. Don't -lament over your misfortunes, Frederick, for many -people would envy your lot in having such a child, -who gives you so much satisfaction."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One thing only made the tears come, that is -when I thought of my wife, then I cried to myself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! if Catherine could come back to see -her, she would be very happy!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>About the same time other ideas entered my -head; the epoch of my retirement was approaching, -and as Marie-Rose had entered her seventeenth -year, I thought of finding her a good and -nice young fellow from among the foresters, in -whose house I could tranquilly end my days, in -the midst of my children and grandchildren, and -who, taking my place, would respect me as I had -respected my father-in-law Burat, when succeeding -him twenty years before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I thought of it; it was my principal idea, and -I had even some one in view, a tall and handsome -young man from Felsberg, who had left the horse -guards three or four years before, and who had -just been appointed forest guard at Tömenthal, -near our house. His name was Jean Merlin, and -he was already experienced in the duties of a -forester, having passed his apprenticeship at -Eyisheim, in Alsace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The young fellow pleased me first because he -had a good character, afterward because Marie-Rose -regarded him with a favourable eye. I had -remarked that she always blushed a little when -she saw him enter the house to make his report, -and that he never failed to appear in full dress, -carefully shaved, his little cap with its hunting -horn badge, adorned with an oak leaf or a sprig of -heather, which sets off a man; and that his voice, -which was a little gruff, became very gentle in -saying, "Good day, Mlle. Marie-Rose; I hope -you are quite well? What beautiful weather we -are having—the sun is shining finely," etc. He -appeared embarrassed; and Marie-Rose also -answered him timidly. It was very clear that they -loved and admired each other, a natural thing -when one is old enough to get married. It always -has been and always will be so; it is a blessing of -Providence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Therefore I found no evil in it, on the -contrary I thought: "When he asks her of me -according to custom, we will see about it. I will -say neither yes nor no at once; one must not have -the air of throwing one's self at people's heads; -but I will, and by yielding, for neither must one -break young people's hearts."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Those were the ideas that I revolved in my head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Besides which the young man was of good -family; he had his uncle, Daniel Merlin, who was -schoolmaster at Felsberg; his father had been -sergeant in a regiment of infantry, and his mother, -Margredel, though she lived with him in the -forester's house at Tömenthal, possessed at Felsberg -a cottage, a garden, and four or five acres of good -land; one could not desire a match in every way -more advantageous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And seeing that everything seemed to go according -to my wishes, almost every evening when -I returned from my circuits through the woods, in -the path which skirts the valley of Dôsenheim, at -the moment when the sun is setting, when the -silence spreads itself with the shadow of the forest -over the great meadows of La Zinzelle—that -silence of the solitude, scarcely broken by the -murmur of the little river—almost every evening, -walking thoughtfully along, I pictured to myself -the peace that my children would have in this -corner of the world, their pleasant home, the birth -of little beings whom we would carry to Dôsenheim -to have them baptized in the old church, -and other similar things, which touched my heart -and made me say:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lord God, it is all sure; these things will -happen. And when you grow old, Frederick, -very old, your back bent by age, like grandmother -Anne, and your head quite white, you will pass -away quietly, satisfied with years, and blessing the -young brood. And long after you are gone, that -brave Jean Merlin, with Marie-Rose, will keep -you in remembrance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In picturing all this to myself, I halted regularly -on the path above the forester house of Jean -Merlin, looking beneath at the little tiled roof, -the garden surrounded with palisades, and the -yard whence the mother of Jean drove her ducks -and fowls into the poultry-yard towards night, for -foxes were not wanting in that outskirt of the -forest. I looked down from above, and I cried, -raising my cap, "Hilloa! Margredel, good evening."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she would raise her eyes, and joyously -reply to me, "Good evening, Mr. Brigadier. Are -all well at your house?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, yes, Margredel, very well, Heaven be -praised." Then I would come down through the -brushwood, and we would shake hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was a good woman, always gay and laughing -because of her great confidence in God, which -made her always look upon the bright side of -things. Without ever having said anything to -each other, we knew very well of what we were -each thinking; we only needed to talk about the -weather to understand all the rest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And when, after having had a good gossip, I -went away, Margredel would still call after me, in -her rather cracked voice, for she was nearly sixty -years old, "A pleasant walk to you, Brigadier. -Don't forget Mlle. Marie-Rose and the grandmother."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be afraid. I'll forget nothing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She would make a sign with her head to me -that it was all right, and I would go off with -lengthening steps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It sometimes happened to me also, sometimes -when my circuit was finished before five o'clock, -to find Jean near the house, at the other side of -the valley, in the path that skirted our orchard, -and Marie-Rose in the garden picking vegetables. -They were each on their own side, and were -talking across the hedge without appearing to do so; -they were telling things to each other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That reminded me of the happy time when I -was courting Catherine, and I came up very softly -over the heather till I was within twenty steps -behind them, and then I cried, "Ho! ho! Jean -Merlin, is it like this that you perform your duties? I -catch you saying fine words to the pretty girls."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he turned round, and I saw his embarrassed look.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Excuse me, Brigadier," he said, "I came to -see you on business, and I was conversing with -Mlle. Marie-Rose while waiting for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, that is all very well; we will see to -that. I do not trust foxes myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And other jokes without end. You can understand, -George, that happiness had returned to us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had as much confidence in Jean Merlin as in -Marie-Rose and in myself. The evil race that -deceives does not exist in our country; it has always -come from elsewhere.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="iv"><span class="bold large">IV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Things went on like this throughout the -whole year 1868. Jean Merlin took every possible -occasion to present himself at the house, either on -business connected with his office, or else to -consult me on his family affairs. He had but one -fear, that was of being refused. Sometimes, when -we were walking together in the woods, I saw -him musing, with drooping head; he seemed to -wish to speak; he raised his voice suddenly, and -then was silent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For my part, I wished that he would be a little -more courageous, but I could not open the -subject; that would not have been proper for his -superior; I awaited his formal proposal, thinking -that he would end by writing to me, or by sending -me one of his relatives to make a ceremonious -declaration: his uncle Daniel, for instance, the -schoolmaster of Felsberg, a respectable man, who -was able to take charge of so delicate a commission.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It often happened to me also to reflect upon -what concerned me particularly. I asked nothing -better than to see my daughter happy, but I had -to try to arrange all interests in accord as much as -possible. When one thinks of nothing, -everything appears simple and easy, and yet the best -things have their evil side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had still nearly two years to serve before -retiring, but after that, if my son-in-law was not -named brigadier in my place, we would be forced -to quit the old house, where I had passed so many -years, with the beings who were dear to -me—father-in-law Burat, my poor wife, grandmother -Anne, everybody, in fact; and we would be -obliged to abandon all that to go live in a land -which I did not know, and among strange faces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That idea made me wretched. I knew well -that Marie-Rose and Jean Merlin would always -respect me as their father; of that I was sure. -But the habit of turning round in the same corner -and of seeing the same things becomes a second -nature, and that is why old hares and old foxes, -even when they have received gunshot wounds in -the neighbourhood of their lair or their hole, -always return there; they need the sight of the -brushwood and the tuft of grass, which recall to -them their youth, their love, and even the -annoyances and the sorrows which, in the long run, -make up three-quarters of our existence, and to -which we become as strongly attached as to -memories of happiness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ah! I never should have believed that anything -worse could happen to me than to retire -with my children into a country of fir trees like -ours, and into a little house like my own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These things made me very uneasy, and, since -the departure of President Münsch, I no longer -knew of whom I could ask a bit of good advice, -when at length all was settled in a very happy -way, which touches my heart even now when I -think of it.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="v"><span class="bold large">V</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>You must know that, during the years 1867, -1868, and 1869, roads were being made in all -directions, to facilitate the wood-cutting and to -transport the wood to the railway and the canal. -M. Laroche, Forest Inspector of the Canton of -Lutzelstein, directed these great works. He was -a man of fifty-five years of age, robust and serious, -who thought of nothing but his business; hunting -and fishing were not among his tastes; to be well -noticed by him, there was no question of being a -good shot or a skilful trapper; it was necessary to -serve him well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He often came himself to the place, explaining -clearly the declivity to be followed, the trees which -ought to be felled, etc.; unless one was idiotic, he -could not but understand. Things went on this -way briskly and well. Naturally, such a man -would know all his workmen thoroughly, and -when he was satisfied, he would address to you -some of those kind words that make your heart -light.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For my part, I think that he took an interest -in me, for often, after hearing my report in his -office at Lutzelstein, he would say to me, "That -is very good, very good, Father Frederick!" and -would even shake hands with me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Towards the spring of 1869 the order arrived -to repair the road which descends from Petite -Pierre to the valley of Graufthal, in order to join -the new highway from Saverne to Metting; the -junction fell near the saw-mill, not far from the -forester's house; I had to go, therefore, every -working day with my brigade to survey the works.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first part was almost finished, and they -had commenced to blow up the rocks below, near -the valley, to level the road, when, one morning, -going to make my usual report at Lutzelstein, the -inspector received me particularly well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was about ten o'clock, his breakfast hour, -and he had just reached his house as I rang.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! it is you, Father Frederick," said he, -gaily, as he opened his door; "fine weather this -morning. All right down yonder?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir, all is going well, according to your -orders."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good," said he. "Sit down, I have -something to say to you. You will breakfast with -me. My wife is with her parents in Champagne; -you will keep me company."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Often, when I arrived at breakfast time, he -would offer me a glass of wine, but the idea had -never occurred to him to give me a place at his -table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down there," said he. "Here, Virginie, -bring a plate for the brigadier. You can bring in -breakfast."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Imagine my astonishment and my satisfaction. -I did not know how to thank him; he did not -seem to see my embarrassment. He commenced -by taking off his tunic and putting on his coat, -asking me: "You have a good appetite, Father -Frederick?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir, that never fails me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So much the better! Taste this beefsteak; -Virginie is a good cook; you will tell me what -you think of it. Here's to your health!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here's to yours, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I felt as if I were dreaming; I said to myself, -"Is this really you, Frederick, who are breakfasting -here in this handsome room, with your superior, -and who are drinking this good wine?" And -I felt embarrassed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>M. Laroche, on the contrary, grew more and -more familiar, so that, finally, after three or four -glasses, I discovered that the thing was quite -natural. Because his wife was not at home, I -thought that he was glad to have me to talk over -the felling of the timber, the new clearings, and -our road from Graufthal; so I grew bolder, and -answered him laughing, and almost without embarrassment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Things went on thus for about twenty minutes; -Mlle. Virginie had brought in the biscuits, -almonds, and Gruyère cheese, when, throwing -himself back in his chair, and looking at me -good-humouredly, "It is very agreeable," said he, "to -be as well as we are, at our age. Ha! ha! ha! we -have not yet lost our teeth, Father Frederick!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, indeed; they are well-rooted, sir." And -I laughed, too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How old are you?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall soon be fifty, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I am fifty-five. Well, well, it is all the -same; the time for retiring is approaching; one of -these days they will slit our ears."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was still laughing. As for me, when I -thought of that, I was not so gay as before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he passed me the cheese, saying: "What -do you think of doing two years from now? For -my part, my wife wants to take me into her -country, Champagne. That is a great bore; I -do not like the plains; but, you know, 'A wilful -woman will have her way.' It is a proverb, and -all proverbs have an astounding air of good -sense."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir," I answered; "such proverbs as that -are really annoying, for I could never leave the -mountains; I am too used to them. If I had to -go, I should not live two weeks. There would be -nothing left to do but throw on me the last -handful of earth."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Without doubt," he said; "but when the -young people come, the old people must give up -their place."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In spite of the good wine, I had become quite -silent, thinking of those unfortunate things, when -he said to me: "In your place, Father Frederick, -do you know what I would do? Since you love -the mountains so, since it is, so to speak, your -existence to live in the forest—well, I would look -out for a son-in-law among the foresters; a good -fellow, who would take my place and with whom -I would live tranquilly till the end, in the midst of -the green caps and the smell of the firs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! that is so, sir; I think of it every day; -but——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what?" he said. "What hinders you? -You have a pretty daughter, you are a sensible -man; what embarrasses you? It is not for want -of choice, I hope; in the inspector's guard, big -Kern, Donadieu, Nicolas Trompette, would ask -nothing better than to become your son-in-law. -And that good Jean Merlin. He is what one -might call a model forester—frank, active, -intelligent, and who would answer your purpose -admirably. His record is excellent; he stands first -on the list for promotion, and, upon my word, -Father Frederick, I think that, on your retreat, he -has a good chance of succeeding you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When I heard that, I got red up to my ears, -and I could not help saying, "That is true! No -one has anything to say against Jean Merlin; I -have never seen a better or more honest fellow; -but I cannot offer my daughter to people who -please me; Merlin has never spoken to me of -marriage with Marie-Rose, neither has his mother -Margredel, nor his uncle Daniel; not any of the -family. You can understand, sir, that I cannot -make the advances; it would not be proper! -Beside, everything ought to be done decently and in -order; the proposal ought to be made regularly!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was going to answer, when Mlle. Virginia -came in to pour out the coffee, so he took a box -from the mantelpiece, saying, "Let us light our -cigars, Father Frederick."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I saw that he was amused, and when the -servant went out he cried, laughing, "Come, now, -Father Frederick, do you really need some one to -tell you that Marie-Rose and Jean Merlin love -each other with all their hearts? And must Uncle -Daniel come and declare it to you in a black hood -and with buckled shoes?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He laughed loudly, and as I sat in surprise:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," said he, "here is the affair in two -words: The other day Jean Merlin was so -melancholy that I asked him if he was sick, and the -poor fellow confessed to me, with tears in his -eyes, what he called his misfortune. You are so -serious and respectable-looking that none of the -family dared to make the proposal, and the good -people thought that I would have some influence. -Must I put on my grand uniform, Father Frederick?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was so gay that, notwithstanding my -trouble, I answered: "Oh, sir, now all is well!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you consent?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do I consent? I have never wished for anything -else. Yes, yes, I consent, and I thank you. -You can say, M. Laroche, that to-day you have -rendered Frederick the happiest of men."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had already risen and had put my bag upon -my shoulder, when the chief guard, Rameau, -entered, on business connected with the service.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are going, Frederick?" asked the -inspector. "Are you not going to empty your cup?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! M. Laroche," I said, "I am too happy -to keep quiet. The children are waiting for me, I -am sure; I must go carry them the good news."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go, then, go," he said, rising and accompanying -me to the door; "you are right not to -delay the young people's happiness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shook hands with me, and I left, after -saluting M. Rameau.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="vi"><span class="bold large">VI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>I went away so happy that I could not see -clearly. It was only at the end of the street, in -going down at the left again, towards the valley, -that I awoke from this great confusion of joyous -ideas.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had perhaps taken a little drop too much; I -must confess, George, that the good wine had -dazzled my eyes a little; but my legs were solid, -nevertheless, and I went as if I were just twenty -years old, laughing and saying to myself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Frederick, now everything is according to -rule, no one will have anything to say; it is the -inspector himself who has made the proposal and -that is a thousand times better than if it had been -Uncle Daniel. Ha! ha! ha! what luck! Won't -they be happy when they learn that I consent; -that all is arranged and that there is nothing left -to do but to sing the </span><em class="italics">Gloria in Excelsis</em><span>! -Ha! ha! ha! And you can laugh, too, for all has -gone as you wished it. You will stay in this -country to the end of your existence; you will -see the woods from your window, and you will -smell the sweet odours of the resin and the moss -till you are eighty years of age. That is what you -needed, to say nothing of the rest; of the -children, the grand-children, etc."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I wanted to dance as I descended the Fromuhle road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was then about six o'clock, and night was -approaching; with the coolness of the evening the -frogs were beginning their music in the midst of -the reeds, and the high grasses of the pool, and -the old fir trees on the other side of the shore -showed blue against the darker sky. I stopped -from time to time to look at them and I thought:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are fine trees, straight and full of good -sap, and so you will remain there for a long time -to come. The sun will delight your evergreen -tops till you are marked for the axe of the -woodcutter. Then that will be the end, but the little -firs will have grown up in your shadow and the -place will never be vacant."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And while thinking of that, I recommenced -my march, quite touched, and I cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Frederick, such will be your lot. You -loved father-in-law Burat, you supported him when -he could not do anything, in consideration of the -confidence he had reposed in you, and because he -was a good man, an old servant of the state and a -man to be respected. Now it is your turn to be -loved and supported by those who are full of -youth; you will be in the midst of them like one -of these old fir trees, covered with white moss. -The poor old things, they deserved to live, for if -they had not grown up straight they would have -been cut down long ago to be made into logs and -fagots."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I blessed Providence which never lets the honest -perish, and it is thus that I arrived, towards -seven o'clock in the evening, on the Scienie road -at the bottom of the valley. I saw the forester -house at the left, near the bridge. Ragot was -barking, Calas was bringing the cattle back to the -stable, shouting and cracking his whip, the flock -of ducks on the bank of the river were scratching -and picking themselves around their necks and -under their wings and tails, while awaiting the -hour of going to roost; some chickens were still -pecking in the courtyard, and two or three -half-plucked old hens were napping in the shadow of -the little wall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, seeing Ragot running to meet me, I -said to myself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here we are. Now attention. First you -are going to speak. Jean Merlin must be there -for certain. All must be quite clear beforehand."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="vii"><span class="bold large">VII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>I went up the stairs and I saw Marie-Rose in -the lower room, with bare arms; she was kneading -dough and rolling it out flat, with the rolling-pin, -on our large table, to make noodles. She had -seen me in the distance and continued her work -without raising her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are working hard, Marie-Rose," I -remarked to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! it is you, father," said she; "I am -making noodles."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it is I," I replied, hanging my bag -against the wall; "I have come from the -inspector's. Has any one been here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, father, Jean Merlin came to make his -report, but he went away again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! he went away again, did he? Very -good! he has not gone far, I guess; we have some -very important business to talk over!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I came and went, looking at the dough, the -basket of eggs, the little bowl of flour and -Marie-Rose, working away without opening her lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Finally I stopped and said to her:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See here, Marie-Rose, it is right to be -industrious, but we have something else to do just -now. What is this that I have just heard at the -inspector's? Is it true that you love Jean Merlin?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As I spoke she let fall the rolling pin and -flushed scarlet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," I said; "that's the point! I don't -mean to scold you about it; Jean Merlin is a nice -fellow, and a good forester, and I am not angry at -him. In my time, I loved your mother dearly, -and father Burat, who was my superior, neither -chased me away nor swore at me because of it. It -is a natural thing when one is young to think of -getting married. But when one wishes to marry -an honest girl, one must first ask her of her father, -so that every one may be agreed. Everything -ought to be conducted sensibly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was very much embarrassed, for on hearing -that she ran to get a pot of mignonette and -placed it on the sill of the open window, an action -which filled me with surprise, for my wife, -Catherine, had done the same thing on the day of my -proposal to call me in; and almost at once Merlin -came out of the clump of trees under the rocks -opposite, where I also had hidden, and ran across -the meadow as I myself had run, twenty-three -years before!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, seeing these things, I did also what old -Burat had done. I placed myself in the hall before -the door of the room, my daughter behind me; -and as Merlin entered, all out of breath, I drew -myself up and said to him:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Merlin, is it true what the inspector tells me; -that you love my daughter and ask her in marriage?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes brigadier," he answered me, placing his -hand on his heart, "I love her better than life! -At the same time he wished to speak to Marie-Rose, -but I cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stop a minute! You love her and she has -found out that she loves you. That is very -nice—it is agreeable to love each other! But you -must think also of the others, of the old people. -When I married Catherine Burat I promised to -keep her father and mother till the end of their -days, and I have kept my word, like every man of -honour; I have loved them, cared for them, and -venerated them; they have always had the first -place at table, the first glass of wine, the best bed -in the house. Grandmother Anne, who still lives, -is there to say it. It was only my duty, and if I -had not done it I would have been a villain; but -they have never had any complaints to make, and -on his death-bed father Burat blessed me and said: -'Frederick has always been to us like the best of -sons!' I deserve, therefore, to have the same, and -I wish to have it because it is just! Well, now -that you have heard me, will you promise to be to -me what I was to father Burat?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! brigadier," said he, "I would be the happiest -of men to have you for a father! Yes, yes, -I promise to be a good son to you; I promise to -love you always and to respect you as you deserve."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then I was touched, and I said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In that case, all right; I give you the hand -of Marie-Rose, and you may kiss her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They kissed each other right before me, like -two good children that they were. Marie-Rose -wept profusely. I called the grandmother into -the little side-room; she came leaning on my arm -and blessed us all, saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now I can die in peace, I have seen my -grand-daughter happy, and loved by an honest man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And all that day till evening she did not stop -praying, commending her grand-children to God. -Merlin and Marie-Rose did not weary of talking -together and looking at each other. I walked to -and fro in the large room and told them:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now you are affianced. Jean can come -whenever he likes, whether I am at home or gone -out. The inspector told me that he was first on -the list for promotion, and that he would doubtless -replace me at my retreat; that cannot be far -off now; then we will celebrate the marriage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This good news augmented their satisfaction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Night came on, and Jean Merlin, so as not to -worry his mother, rose and kissed once more his -promised bride. We accompanied him out as far -as the great pear tree. The weather was -magnificent, the sky glittering with stars; not a bird nor -a leaf was stirring, all were sleeping in the valley. -And as Merlin pressed my hand I said to him again:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will tell your mother, Margredel, to -come without fail to-morrow before noon; Marie-Rose -will get you up a good dinner, and we will -celebrate the betrothal together; it is the greatest -festival in one's life; and if Uncle Daniel could -also come we should be very glad of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, Father Frederick," he said, and -then he walked swiftly away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We went in again with tears in our eyes. -And thinking of my poor Catherine, I said to -myself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There are still some pleasant days in life; -why is my good, my excellent wife no longer -with us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the only bitter moment I had during -that day.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="viii"><span class="bold large">VIII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>You understand, George, that after this, all -went on well. I had nothing more to think of but -my service. Jean Merlin and his mother Margredel -came to pass every Sunday at our house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was autumn, the opening of the season for -hunting and fishing; the time for bird catching -and snare setting in the woods, and for fishing -baskets and nets at the river.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The old watchmaker, Baure, of Phalsbourg, -arrived, as usual, with his great fishing rod and his -bag for the trout; Lafleche, Vignerol, and others, -with their bird calls and limed twigs; the gentlemen -from Saverne with their dogs and their guns; -they whistled, they yelled; they shot hares and -sometimes a deer; then all these people came to -take lunch and refresh themselves at the forester's -house; the smell of frying and of good omelettes, -with ham, reached to the garden, and we turned a -penny or two at the house that way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As you know all these things, I have no need -to tell you about them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But this year we saw also arrive quantities of -wood-cutters from the Palatinate, from Bavaria, -and further; great strapping fellows, with knapsacks -on their backs and gaiters with bone buttons -on their legs, who were going to Neiderviller, to -Laneville, and to Toul to work at wood felling. -They passed in bands, their vests hanging from -the handles of their axes over their shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These people emptied their mugs of wine as -they passed; they were jolly fellows, who filled -the room with smoke from their big porcelain -pipes, asking questions about everything, laughing -and joking like people who have no trouble about -earning their living.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Naturally I was glad to have them stop at our -house; that made business brisk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I remember at this time a thing which shows -the blindness of slow-witted people who are -ignorant of what is going on at twenty leagues from -home, and who trust to the government without -thinking of anything; a thing of which I am -ashamed, for we went so far as to laugh at -sensible men, who warned us to be on our guard!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One day our whole house was filled with people -from the city and the environs; some of these -strangers among the rest. They were laughing -and drinking, and one of the tall Bavarians, with -red whiskers and big mustaches, who was before -the window, cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a lovely country! What magnificent -fir trees! What are those old ruins up there—and -this little wood yonder—and that path to the -right—and that pass to the left, between the -rocks? Ah! I have never seen such a country -for fruit trees or fine water courses. It is rich; it -is green. Is there not a steeple behind that little -wood? What is the name of that pretty village?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I, who was glad to hear this man so enthusiastic -over our valley, I told him about everything in -detail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Baure, Dürr, Vignerol were talking together; -they were smoking and going occasionally to the -kitchen to see if the omelette was nearly ready, -without troubling their heads about anything else.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But near the clock sat Captain Rondeau, who -had returned home several months before having -retired on a pension, a tall, dry-looking man, with -hollow cheeks, wearing his black overcoat -buttoned up to the chin, suffering from wounds -received in Italy, Africa, and the Crimea, listening -without saying anything and drinking a cup of -milk because Doctor Semperlin had forbidden him -to take anything else.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This went on for a whole hour, when the Bavarians, -having emptied their mugs, continued their -journey. I followed them to the door to show -them the road to Biegelberg; the tall, red-haired -man laughed, showing his teeth with a joyous -air; finally he shook hands with me and cried, -"Thanks," as he went to join his band.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While they were taking their leave, Captain -Rondeau, leaning on his cane, was standing in the -doorway, and he watched them go off with glittering -eyes and compressed lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who are those people, Father Frederick?" -he said to me. "Do you know them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Those are Germans, captain," I answered -him; "wood-cutters; I do not know any more -about them, except that they are going to Toul, -to work for some contractors there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why do they not employ Frenchmen, these -contractors?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! because these wood-cutters are cheaper -than ours; they work for half-price."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The captain frowned, and all at once he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Those are spies; people that came to examine -the mountain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Spies? How is that?" I answered, in -astonishment. "What have they to spy out here? -Have they any reason to meddle in our affairs?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are Prussian spies," he said, dryly; -"they came to take a look at our positions."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then I believed almost that he was joking -with me, and I said to him:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, Captain Rondeau, all the strong points -are set down, and any one can buy maps of the -country at Strasburg, or Nancy, or anywhere."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, looking at me askance, he exclaimed:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Maps! maps! And do your maps tell how -much hay, and straw, and wheat, and oats, and -wine, and oxen, and horses and wagons can be put -into requisition in each village for an army on the -march? Do they tell you where the mayor lives, -or the </span><em class="italics">curé</em><span>, or the postmaster, or the receiver of -contributions, so that one can lay one's hand upon -them at any minute, or where stables can be found -to lodge the horses, and a thousand other things -that are useful to know beforehand? Maps, indeed! -Do your maps tell the depth of the streams, -or the situation of the fords? Do they point out -to you the guides that are best to take or the -people that must be seized because they might -rouse up the populace?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And as I remained, my arms hanging at my -sides, surprised at these things, of which I had -never thought, Father Baure cried from the room:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, captain, who is it that would want to -attack us? The Germans? Ha! ha! ha! Let -them come! let them come! We'll give them a -warm reception. Poor devils! I would not like -to be in their skins. Ha! ha! ha! We would -settle them! Not one should go out alive from -these mountains."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All the others laughed and cried out: "Yes! yes! let -them come! Let them try it! We'll -give them a good reception!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the captain re-entered the room, and, -looking at big Fischer, who was shouting the -loudest, he asked of him:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You would receive them? With what? Do -you know what you are talking about? Where -are our troops, our supplies, our arms; where, -where, where, I ask of you? And do you know -how many of them there are, these Germans? Do -you know that they are a million of men, exercised, -disciplined, organized, ready to start at two -weeks' notice—artillery, cavalry, infantry? Do -you know that? </span><em class="italics">You</em><span> will receive them!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," cried Father Baure, "Phalsbourg, with -Bitche, Lichtenberg, and Schlestadt, would stop -them for twenty years."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Rondeau did not even take the trouble -to reply, and, pointing from the window to the -wood-cutters that were going away, he said to me: -"Look, Father Frederick, look! Are those -men wood-cutters? Do our wood-cutters march in -ranks? do they keep step? do they keep their -shoulders thrown back and their heads straight, -and do they obey a chief who keeps them in order? -Do not our wood-cutters and those of the -mountains all have rounded shoulders and a heavy gait? -These men are not even mountaineers; they come -from the plains; they are spies. Yes, they are -spies, and I mean to have them arrested."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, without listening to what might be -answered, he threw </span><em class="italics">sous</em><span> on the table in -payment for his cup of milk, and went out abruptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was scarcely outside the door when all who -were present burst out laughing. I signed to them -to be quiet, for that the captain could still hear -them; then they held their sides and snuffled -through their noses, saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What fun! what fun! The Germans coming -to attack us!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Father Baure, while wiping his eyes with his -handkerchief, said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is a good fellow; but he got a rap at the -Malakoff, and since then his clock has been out of -order, and it always strikes noon at fourteen -o'clock."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The others recommenced laughing, like real -madmen, so that I thought, George, myself, that -the captain had not common sense.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All that comes back to me as if it had taken -place yesterday, and two or three days later, -having learned that the captain had caused the -wood-cutters to be arrested in a body at the Lutzelbourg -station, and that, their papers being all right, they -had obtained authorization to continue their -journey into Lorraine, notwithstanding all the -representations and the observations of M. Rondeau, I -believed decidedly that the worthy man was -cracked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every time that Baure came to the forester's -house he would begin upon the chapter of the -German spies, and made me very merry over it. -But to-day we have ceased laughing, and I am sure -that the jokers of Phalsbourg no longer rub their -hands when the </span><em class="italics">feldwebel</em><span> makes his rod whistle -while calling to the conscripts on the parade ground, -"</span><em class="italics">Gewehr auf!—Gewehr ab!</em><span>" I am sure that this -sight has more than once recalled to them the -captain's warning.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="ix"><span class="bold large">IX</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>This took place at the end of the autumn of -1869; the valley was already filled with mist; then -came the winter: the snow began to whirl before -the panes, the fire to crackle in the furnace, and -the spinning-wheel of Marie-Rose to hum from -morning till night, to the accompaniment of the -monotonous ticking of the old clock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I paced to and fro, smoking my pipe, and -thinking of my retreat. Doubtless Marie-Rose -thought of it also, and Merlin spoke to me -sometimes about hurrying up the marriage, which -annoyed me considerably, for when I have said my -say, I am done, and, since we had agreed to -celebrate the marriage the day of his nomination, I -did not see the use of talking over an affair already -decided.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the young people were in a hurry; the -dulness of the season and the impatience of youth -were the causes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For two months past, Baure, Vignerol, Dürr, -and the others came no more; the trees bent -under their load of icicles; no one passed the house -any more, except some rare travellers afar off in -the valley. The history of the captain's spies, -which had made me laugh so much, had entirely -gone out of my head, when an extraordinary thing -proved to me clearly that the old soldier had not -been wrong in distrusting the Prussians, and that -other people thought of dealing foul blows—people -high in rank, in whom we had placed all our confidence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That year several herds of wild boars ravaged -the country. These animals scratched up the -newly-sown grain; they dug up the ground in the woods -to find roots, and came down every night to tear -up the fields around the farms and the hamlets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The peasants were never done lamenting and -complaining; when, finally, we heard that Baron -Pichard had arrived to organize a general battle. -I received at the same time the order to go and -join him, at his rendezvous of Rothfelz, with the -best marksmen of the brigade, as many of the -huntsmen of the neighbourhood as I could get.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was in December I started with Merlin, big -Kern, Donadieu, Trompette, and fifteen or twenty -hunters, and in the evening we found up there all -the baron's guests, filling the rooms of the little -hunting lodge, lying on straw, eating, drinking, -and joking as usual.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But you know all about those things, George; -you remember also the hunting lodge at Rothfelz, -the cries of the hunters, the barking of the dogs, -and the danger of the guests, who fired in every -direction but the right one, in the lines and out of -the lines, always imagining at the end that they -had killed the great beast. As for us guards, we -had always missed. You remember that; it is -always the same thing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What I want to tell you is, that after the hunt, -in which some wild boars and a few young pigs -had fallen, they had a grand feast in the hunting -lodge. The carriages of the baron had contained -an abundance of everything: wine, cherry brandy, -wheaten bread, pies, sugar, coffee, cognac; and, -naturally, towards midnight, after having run -around in the snow, eaten, drunk, howled and -sung, the party of pleasure wore a dubious aspect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were quartered in the kitchen and well -supplied with everything, and, as the door of the -dining-room was open, to air the room, we could -hear everything that the guests said, particularly -as they shouted at the tops of their voices, like -blind men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had noticed among the number a tall, lean -fellow, with a hooked nose, black eyes, a small -mustache, a tightly-fitting vest, and muscular legs -in his high leather gaiters, who handled his small -gun with singular skill; I said to myself, "That -man, Frederick, is not in the habit of sitting before -a desk and toasting his calves by the fire; he is -certainly a soldier, a superior officer!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had been stationed near me in the morning, -and I had noticed that his two shots had not -missed their mark. I looked upon him as a real -huntsman, and so he was. He knew also how to -drink, for towards midnight three-fourths of the -guests were already fast asleep in all the corners, -and, except himself, Baron Pichard, M. Tubingue, -one of the largest, richest vine-growers in Alsace; -M. Jean Claude Ruppert, the notary, who could -drink two days running without changing colour -or saying one word quicker than another; and -M. Mouchica, the wood-merchant, whose custom it is -to intoxicate every one with whom he has any -dealings—except these, the other guests, extended -on their bundles of straw, had all left the party.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then a loud conversation took place; the -baron said that the Germans were sending spies -into Alsace, that they had agents everywhere, -disguised as servants or commercial travellers or -peddlers; that they were drawing out maps of the -roads, the paths, the forests; that they even -penetrated into our arsenals and sent notes regularly to -Germany; that they had done the same thing in -Schleswig-Holstein before commencing the war, -and then in Bohemia, before Sadowa; that they -were not to be trusted, etc.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The notary and M. Mouchica agreed with him -that it was a very serious business, and that our -government ought to take measures to stop this -spy system.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Naturally, when we heard that, we listened -with all our ears, when the officer began to laugh, -saying that he was more ready to believe what the -baron said because we were doing the same thing -in Germany; that we had engineers in all the -fortresses and staff-officers in all their valleys. And -M. Tubingue having said that that was impossible, -that no French officer would behave that way, -because of the honour of the army, he began to laugh -still louder, and said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, my dear sir, what is war now? It is an -art, a game, an open contest; they look over each -other's hands and each tries to make out the cards -of his adversary. Look at me; I have gone all -through the Palatinate as a commercial traveller; -I sold Bordeaux to those good Germans!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, laughing still more, the gentleman -related all that he had seen on his road, just like -what Captain Rondeau had said that the Prussians -were doing here, adding that we were only waiting -for an excuse to seize on the left bank of the -Rhine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they heard that, my guards began to -stamp their feet with delight, as if their fortune -was made; and at once the door was closed, and -we heard nothing more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I went out into the air, for the stupidity of -big Kern, Trompette, and the others disgusted me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was very cold outside; the platform was -white with frost and the moon over the bristling -old firs was peeping between the clouds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is the matter, brigadier?" asked Merlin, -who had followed me; "you look pale. Do -you feel sick?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, the stupidity of Trompette and the -others has upset me; I should like to know what -made them stamp," I answered. "And you, too, -Merlin; you surprise me! You think that it is a -fine thing to invade the country of our neighbours; -to carry off the wheat, the wine, the hay, -and the straw of poor people, who never did us -any harm. You think it is fine to take their -country and to make them French, in spite of -themselves. That is sport. You think that is -sport! Would you like to become a German? -Would you like to obey the Prussians and put -aside your country for another? What would it -profit us to do such a thing as that? Would it -make us richer to tear out the souls of our -neighbours? Would that leave us with a good -conscience? Well, for my part, I would not, for the -honour of our nation, have an ill-gotten </span><em class="italics">centime</em><span> -or inch of land. I do not want to believe what -that gentleman says. If it is true, so much the -worse! Even if we were the strongest to-day, the -Germans, from father to son, would think only -of vengeance, of returning to their rights, of -reclaiming their blood. Would the good God be -just to abandon them? There are only beings -without hearts and without religion who are -capable of believing it; gamblers, who imagine -stupidly that they will always win. Nevertheless, we -see that many gamblers end their days on a dunghill."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Father Frederick," said Merlin, "don't be -angry with me. I had never thought of all that; -it is true. But you are too angry to return to the -kitchen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," I answered, "let us go to sleep; that -is better than drinking; there is still room in the -barn."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We did so, and left the next morning at daybreak.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What I have just told you, George, is true; I -have always placed justice above everything, and -even now, when I have lost all that I loved best -in the world, I repeat the same thing. I am -better pleased in my great misery to be deprived of -the fruit of my labour for thirty years than to -have lost my love of justice.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="x"><span class="bold large">X</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>After that the winter passed as usual; rain, -snow, great blasts of wind through the leafless -trees, uprooted firs, dislodged rocks, covering -with earth the roads and paths at the foot of -the slope. That is what I had seen for twenty-five -years past.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then gradually the spring arrived. The cattle -again descended to drink at the river. Calas -began to sing again as he cracked his whip, and the -cock began to flap his wings on the low wall of -the poultry-yard, in the midst of his hens, filling -with his clear voice all the echoes of the valley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ah! how all that comes back to me, George, -and how beautiful those things to which I then -paid no attention, appear to me now in this garret -into which scarcely a ray of light can penetrate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was our last spring at the forest house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marie-Rose, every morning, in her short petticoat, -with her clean </span><em class="italics">fichu</em><span> crossed over her bosom, -went into the garden with her basket and the old -earthy knife, to gather the first vegetables. She -came and went, lifting up the bordering of box -that edged the little alleys, and tied up the -branches of the rose bushes that had fallen away -from their stakes. I saw in the distance Jean -Merlin, advancing at a swift pace through the -meadow path, skirting the old willows; I heard -him call out:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Marie-Rose!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She instantly rose and hastened to meet him. -They kissed each other and returned laughing, arm -in arm. I was pleased and said to myself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They love each other dearly. They are good -children."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old grandmother Anne, who was nearly always -shut up in her own room, was looking too, -leaning out of the little window surrounded with -ivy, with her eyelids puckered up, her old face -wrinkled with satisfaction; she called me:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Frederick!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it, grandmother?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am growing young as at the time of my -own marriage. It was the year of the comet in -which they made such good wine before the great -Russian winter; you have heard them talk of that, -Frederick; all our soldiers were frozen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, grandmother."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She liked to recall those old stories, and we -did not think that we should soon see the same -things.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The good people of Phalsbourg, the poorest, -such as father Maigret, old Paradis, grandfather -Lafougére, all of them old soldiers without any -means of subsistence but public charity and their -medal of St. Helena, began to come to look for -mushrooms in the woods; they knew all the different -kinds from the small to the large Polish -mushroom; they gathered also strawberries and -mulberries. The wood strawberries, which are the -best, sell in the town for two sous a quart, -mushrooms for three sous the small basketful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lower meadow, by the river bank, gave -them also quantities of salad. How many times -those poor old backs were forced to stoop in order -to earn a </span><em class="italics">sou</em><span>!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And every year we received orders to enforce -the forest laws more severely, to prevent the poor -from picking up the dead leaves and beech nuts, -which was as much as to say to "prevent them -from living."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Things went on this way till the hay-making -season, when came the great drought; it lasted -till the end of July, and we feared for the potatoes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As to the </span><em class="italics">plebiscite</em><span>, I won't talk to you about -that; those things did not worry us foresters -much. One fine morning we received the order -to go to the Petite Pierre, and all the brigade, -after assembling at my house, left together in -their holiday clothes to vote; yes, as we had been -ordered to do. Then, stopping at the inn of the -Three Pigeons, we drank a bumper to the Emperor's -health, after which every one went home -and never thought of it any more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The people complained of but one thing at -Graufthal, Dôsenheim, and Echbourg, and that -was the lack of rain. But in the depths of the -valleys dry weather was always the most beautiful -and the richest; we never lacked moisture; the -grass grew in abundance, and all the birds in -Alsace, blackbirds, thrushes, bullfinches, and wood -pigeons, with their young nestlings, enjoyed -themselves with us as if in an aviary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was also the best time one could wish for -fishing, for when the waters were low all the trout -ascended to the springs beneath the rocks, where -one could take them out in one's hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You may well believe that there was no lack -of fishermen. Marie-Rose had never before had -as many omelettes and fried dishes to prepare. -She superintended everything and answered the -compliments made to her upon her approaching -marriage without stopping her work. She looked -as fresh as a rose; merely looking at her, Jean -Merlin's eyes grew moist with tenderness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Who would have imagined at that time that -we were going to have a war with the Prussians? -What interest had we in that? Beside, did not -every one say that the </span><em class="italics">plebiscite</em><span> had been voted to -keep peace? Such an idea had never entered our -heads, when, one July evening, the little Jew, -David, who had been to Dôsenheim to buy a calf, -said to me as he passed:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have heard the great news, brigadier?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; what is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, the Paris newspapers say that the Emperor -is about to declare war upon the King of -Prussia."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I could not believe it, because the wood-merchant -Schatner, who had returned a few days before -from Sarrebrück, had told me that the country -thereabouts was swarming with troops, cavalry, -infantry, artillery, and that even the citizens had -their knapsacks, their guns, and their complete -outfits, ticketed and numbered, all arranged in -good order on shelves in large barracks, and that -at the first sign of the </span><em class="italics">hauptmann</em><span> these people -would have nothing to do but to dress themselves, -receive cartridges, get into a railway car, and fall -upon our backs </span><em class="italics">en masse</em><span>. As for us, we had -nothing at all, either in our towns or our villages, -so simple good sense made me think that they -would not declare war on these Germans before -having put us in a condition to defend ourselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So I shrugged my shoulders when the Jew -told me such an absurd thing, and I said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you take the Emperor for a fool?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he went off, dragging his calf by the rope, -and saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait a bit, brigadier; you will see—this -won't last long."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All that he could say on that score came to the -same thing, and when Jean Merlin came that -evening, as usual, it never occurred to me to tell -him about it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Unfortunately, eight or ten days later, the -thing was certain; they were calling in all soldiers -away on leave of absence. It was even stated -that the Bavarians had cut the telegraph wires -in Alsace—that innumerable troops were passing -Saverne, and that others were encamped at Niederbronn.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xi"><span class="bold large">XI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>All at once it was rumoured that there had -been fighting near Wissembourg, and that same -evening the inhabitants of Neu Willer, fleeing -with their furniture piled on carts to Lutzelstein, -told us at the very door of the house, without -daring to come in, that several of our battalions -had been slaughtered; that the general of the -vanguard had been left on the field; that -Wissembourg was in flames, and that our troops were -retiring towards Bitche.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These people seemed bewildered with terror; -instead of continuing on their way to Petite -Pierre, the idea struck them all at once that it -was not strongly enough fortified, and in spite -of the circuit of three leagues that they had -just made, the whole band, men and women, -began to climb the Falberg hill to fly to Strasbourg.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then desolation reigned among us. Merlin -and his mother came to our house to talk over the -bad news. The grandmother lamented. As for -me, I said there was no need to be cast down -about it, that the Germans would never dare to -risk themselves in our forests; that they did not -know the roads, and other reasons like that, which -did not prevent me from being very uneasy myself, -for all that Captain Rondeau had said to us -one year before came back to me; the wood-cutters -that he had caused to be arrested at Lutzelstein -rose before my eyes; and then I was humiliated -to think that the soldiers of Baden and Bavaria -had beaten the French at their first encounter. -I knew that they were ten to one, but that did -not lessen my grief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was our first bad night. I could not sleep, -and I heard Marie-Rose, in her little side room, -get up, open the window, and look out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All outside was as silent as if nothing had -happened; not a leaf was stirring, so calm was the -air; some crickets were chirping on the ground, -which was still warm six hours after sunset, and -along the river the frogs were uttering their long, -drawn-out cry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My inward emotion prevented me from sleeping. -About four o'clock Ragot began to bark -down-stairs; some one was knocking at the door, -I dressed myself, and two minutes after, went -down to open the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A man, the younger Klein-Nickel, of Petite -Pierre, brought me an order from Inspector -Laroche to come without delay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marie-Rose had come down-stairs. I only -waited long enough to snatch a morsel, and then -I left with my gun slung over my shoulder. By -seven o'clock I was at M. Laroche's door, and I -went in. The inspector was seated at his desk -writing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! it is you, Frederick," he said, laying -down his pen, "take a seat. We have had some -pretty bad news; you know that our little body -of men detached for observation has had a misfortune?" -"Yes, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They allowed themselves to be surprised," -said he; "but that is nothing; it will not occur -again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He appeared as tranquil as usual, and said that -in every war there were ups and downs; that a -first unfortunate engagement did not signify -anything, but that it was always good to take -precautions in view of more serious events impossible to -foresee; consequently, that it was necessary to -tell all the men of my brigade, and those that we -were employing on the forest roads, to be ready -to march with their pickaxes, hatchets, and shovels, -at the first order, because it would perhaps be -necessary to blow up the rocks and to cut the -roads by means of ditches and the felling of trees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You understand," said he, seeing me rather -uneasy, "that these things are simply measures of -forethought, nothing is threatening; Marshal -MacMahon is concentrating his troops near Hagenau; -everything is in movement; there is nothing -immediate to fear; but the chief thing is to be ready -in case of need; when everything is ready, we -will act rapidly and surely. I may receive an -order from General de Failly to block the roads, -and in such a case the order must be executed -within a few hours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will not take long, sir," I answered; -"everywhere the rocks are leaning over the roads; -in falling they would take everything with them -to the bottom of the valley."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Exactly," said he. "But, first, every one -must be warned. We have no lack of blasting -powder; if the order arrives, all my colleagues -having taken the same measures, it will be a day's -journey from Bitche to Dabo; not a cannon, not -an ammunition wagon can pass from Alsace to -Lorraine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He said this as he accompanied me to the -door, and shook hands with me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As I was going thoughtfully home, I saw on -the height of Altenberg some soldiers who were -planting stockades along the hillside. The -greatest confusion was reigning in the suburbs, people -were running from house to house to get news, -two or three companies of infantry were encamped -in a potato-field.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All that day and the next I did nothing but -carry the orders of the inspector from Frohmühle -to Echbourg, from Echbourg to Hangsviller, to -Graufthal, to Metting, etc., telling each of what -he would have to do, the places where we were to -meet, the rocks which we were to attack.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the third day I came home, so worn out -that I could not eat nor even sleep for several -hours. However, towards morning I fell into a -heavy sleep, from which I was roused by -Marie-Rose coming into my room and opening the -window towards Dôsenheim.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen, father," said she, in a trembling voice; -"listen to that noise. What is it? We hear -nothing but that in the whole valley."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I listened. It was an endless booming that -filled the mountain, and at times covered the noise -of the wind in the trees. It did not take me long -to understand what it meant, and I answered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is cannon. They are fighting seven or -eight leagues from here, near Woerth. It is a -great battle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marie-Rose instantly ran down-stairs, and after -having dressed myself I followed her into the -lower room, where the grandmother was also; her -chin trembled as she looked at me with wide-open -eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is nothing," I told them; "do not be -afraid; whatever happens, the Germans will never -come this far; we have too many good places to -defend our passes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But I was very far from feeling very confident -myself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The cannonading grew louder, sometimes like -the distant rolling of a storm; then it died away, -and we heard nothing more but the rustling of the -leaves, the barking of Ragot before the door, and -the quacking of a duck among the willows by the -river. These voices of the solitude, when one -thought of what was going on behind the curtain -of the forest, had something strange about them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I should have liked to climb the rocks to see -at least what was going on on the other side, in -the plain; but as the order to commence operations -might arrive at any minute, I was forced to -stay where I was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This went on till three o'clock in the afternoon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I walked about, trying to put a brave face on -the matter, so as not to frighten the women. This -day, the sixth of August, was very long; even -today, when so many other griefs have overwhelmed -us, I cannot think of it without a heavy heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The most terrible moment was, when all at -once the dull sound that we had heard since -morning ceased. We listened at the garden window, -but not a breath, not a sound but those from the -valley reached us. It was only after a few -minutes that I said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is over. The battle is ended. Now some -are running away and the others are pursuing -them. God grant that we have conquered."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And till night not a soul appeared in the -neighbourhood. After supper we went to bed -with heavy hearts.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xii"><span class="bold large">XII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The next day was very gloomy; the sky was -cloudy, and at length it began to rain, after the -two months' drought; the rain fell heavily and -continuously; the hours passed slowly away, the -order to commence operations did not come, and -I said to myself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is a good sign! So much the better! -If we had been defeated the order would have -arrived early this morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But we had no news, and about three o'clock, -losing patience, I said to Marie-Rose and the -grandmother:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See here, I cannot stand this any longer; I -must go to Petite Pierre to find out what is -going on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I put on my water-proof cape and went out -into the pouring rain. On our sandy soil the -water flows off without soaking into the ground. -I arrived at Petite Pierre, where every one was -then shut up in the cottages, about six o'clock. -At the point of the fort, high up in air a sentinel -was on guard outside of his watch-box.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few minutes later I entered the office of the -chief inspector. He was there alone, walking up -and down with a bowed back and a gloomy air, -and when I raised my hood he stopped short and -said to me:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is you, Father Frederick, is it? Have you -come to hear the news and to get your orders?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir," I replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, the news is bad; the battle is lost; we -are repulsed from Alsace, and one hundred and -fifty thousand Germans are advancing to enter -Lorraine."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A cold shiver ran down my back, and as he -said no more I murmured:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Everything is ready, sir; there is nothing to -do but to distribute the powder for the mines and -to commence felling the trees; we are all ready -and waiting."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, smiling bitterly and running his hands -through his thick brown hair, he cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes, we are all like that. Time presses; -the retreat is continuing by Bitche and Saverne, -the enemy is sending out scouts in all directions, -and the orders do not come."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I answered nothing, and then, seating himself, -he cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"After all, why should I hide the truth from -you? General de Failly has sent me word that -the abattis are useless, and that there is nothing -for us to do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was as though rooted to the ground and a -cold trembling shook my limbs. The inspector -recommenced his walk with his hands crossed -behind his back under the skirts of his coat, and as -he paced to and fro, without saying another word, -I added:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And now, what are we to do, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Remain at your posts like brave fellows," -he said. "I have no other orders to give you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Something choked me; he saw that, and, looking -at me with moistened eyes, he held out his -hand to me, saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, Father Frederick, take courage. After -all, it is pleasant to be able to say, a hand upon the -heart, 'I am a brave man!' That is </span><em class="italics">our</em><span> recompense."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And I said, deeply moved:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir, yes, that is all which remains to us, -and that will never be lacking."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did me the honour to accompany me down -the walk to the gate, and again pressing my hand, -he cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Courage! courage!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then I set off again, descending the great -valley. The rain covered the pool of the Fromühle, -which was quivering all gray among the willows -and the parched herbage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As to telling you about the ideas which -chased each other through my head, and how -often I passed my hand over my face to wipe -away the tears and the rain which were flowing -from it—as to relating to you that, George, -it is not in my power; that would take a wiser -man than I; I felt myself no longer, I did not -know myself, and I repeated to myself in my -trouble:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No orders—it is useless. The general says -that it is useless to cut down the trees and to -block up the roads. Then he wants the enemy to -advance and to come through the passes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And I marched on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was dark night when I reached the house. -Marie-Rose was waiting for me, seated by the -table; she observed me with an anxious eye, and -she seemed to ask, "What has happened—what -orders have we."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But I said nothing, and, throwing my cape, all -streaming with rain, on the back of a chair, and -shaking my cap, I cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go to bed, Marie-Rose, we will not be -disturbed to-night; go and sleep tranquilly; the -general at Bitche does not want us to stir. The -battle is lost, but we will have another in Alsace, at -Saverne, or farther off, and the roads are to remain -open. We have no need to do anything, the roads -will be well guarded."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I do not know what she thought about it, but -at the end of a minute, seeing that I did not sit -down, she said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have kept your soup near the fire, and it -is still hot if you would like something to eat, -father."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bah! I am not hungry," I answered; "let -us go to bed: it is late, and that is the best thing -to do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I could no longer restrain myself; anger was -gaining upon me. I went out and bolted the -door, and then taking the lamp I went up-stairs. -Marie-Rose followed me, and we each went to -our own room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I heard my daughter go to bed, but I remained -thinking for a long time, leaning my elbows on the -table and watching the little yellow light before -the black panes where the ivy leaves were shivering -in the rain, winking my eyes and saying to myself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Frederick, there are, nevertheless, many asses -in the world, and they do not walk in the rear; -they march in front and lead the others."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last, as the night advanced towards two -o'clock, thinking that it was useless to burn oil for -nothing, I undressed and went to bed, blowing -out my lamp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On that very night of the seventh to the eighth -of August, the Germans, having reconnoitred to a -great distance and finding that all the roads were -free, advanced in a body and took possession of -the passes, not only of La Zingel but also of La -Zorn, thus investing Phalsbourg, the bombardment -of which was begun two days later.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They passed also into Lorraine by the great tunnel -of Homartin, while our army fell back, by forced -marches, upon Nancy, and finally upon Chalons.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus the two great German armies of Woerth -and Forbach found themselves united, and all -others were as if swallowed up, cut off from all -help and even from all hope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You can easily picture to yourself that immense -army of Prince Frederick; Bavarians, Würtemburgers, -Badeners, cavalry, artillery, infantry, which -defied by squadrons and by regiments through our -lovely valley; that torrent of human beings which -goes on and on, ever forward, without interruption -during a whole week, and the cannon which thunders -around the place, and the old rocks of the -Graufthal which resound with echoes upon echoes, -and then the smoke of the conflagration which -arises to Heaven forming a sombre dome above -our valleys.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xiii"><span class="bold large">XIII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>After the grand passage of the German army -and the bombardment of the city, thousands of -</span><em class="italics">landwehr</em><span> came to occupy the country. These -people filled up all the villages and hamlets; here -one company, there two; further on three or four, -commanded by Prussian officers. They guarded -all the roads and paths, they made requisitions of -all kinds: bread, wheat, flour, hay, straw, cattle, -nothing came amiss to them; they amused themselves -at the corner of the fire, talked of their wives -and children with an air of tender emotion, pitied -the fate of their poor brothers of Alsace and -Lorraine, and sighed over our misery. But all that -did not prevent them from eating and drinking -heartily at our expense, and from stretching -themselves out in the old arm-chair of the grandmother -or grandfather, smoking with satisfaction the cigars -that we were obliged to furnish for them! Yes, -fine words did not cost them much. This is what -I have often seen at Graufthal, at Echbourg, -Berlinger, Flangeviller, where the desire to learn the -news made me go from time to time, wearing a -</span><em class="italics">blouse</em><span> and carrying a stick.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From the first days of September their governor-general, -Bismark Bohlen, came to establish himself -at Hagenau, declaring that Alsace had always been -a German province, and that his Majesty the King -of Prussia was taking possession of his own; that -Strasbourg, Bitche, Phalsbourg, Nevy Brisach were -to be considered as cities rebelling against the -legitimate authority of King William, but that -they would soon be brought to their senses by the -new bombshells weighing a hundred and fifty -pounds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This, George, was what they said openly with -us, and that shows that these Germans took us for -fools, to whom they could tell the most silly jokes -without fear of being laughed at.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Our only consolation was that we lived in the -midst of the forest, in which these brave people -did not like to risk themselves; I thanked Heaven -for it every evening. But scarcely was Bismark -Bohlen installed than we saw passing every -morning and evening regularly mounted </span><em class="italics">gens-d'armes</em><span> -in the valley, with their helmets and their great -cloaks, with packets of proclamations, which the -mayors were obliged to post up on the doors of -their offices and the churches.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These proclamations promised the kindest of -treatment to the faithful subjects of King William, -and threatened with death all those who assisted -the French, whom they called "our enemies!" It -was forbidden to give them bread or even a glass -of water in their misfortune, to serve them as -guides, or to hide them in one's house; one must -give them up to be an honest man; you were to -be judged by a council of war in case of disobedience, -and the smallest penalty for such an offence -was twenty years of the galleys and thirty-seven -thousand francs fine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By such means Bismark Bohlen could dispense -with all other explanations touching the races, the -German fatherland, and the rights of his Majesty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Picture to yourself now our solitude, the fear -of marauders, whom we could not have dared to -repulse, because they would have presented -themselves in the name of the king. Fortunately that -kind of people are not very courageous; it was -rumoured that sharp-shooters, and even soldiers -escaped from Woerth, were prowling round in the -neighbourhood, and that preserved us from visits -from that good race which wished us so much good.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was also said that the members of the forest -guard would be kept, that the salary of the old -guards would even be augmented, and that several -would obtain promotion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You can understand my indignation when I -heard such things said; I had not forgotten the -advice of our good Chief Inspector; I reminded -our men of it at every opportunity:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must stay at our posts! Perhaps the luck -will not always be against us. Let every one do -his duty till the end. I have no other orders to -give you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He observed this order himself, staying at Petite -Pierre and continuing to fulfil the duties of his -office.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Strasbourg was defending itself; there was -fighting going on round Metz. From time to -time I sent Merlin to get the orders from our -superiors, and the answer was always: "Nothing -is hopeless. We may be called upon at any -minute. Let every one stay where he is!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We waited then, and the autumn, always so -beautiful in our mountains, with its russet leaves, -its silent forests, where the song of birds was no -longer heard; its meadows newly mown and -smooth as a carpet as far as the eye could reach; -the river covered with gladiols and dead leaves, -this great spectacle so calm at all times, was still -grander and sadder than ever in the midst of the -terrible events through which we were passing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How often then, listening to the endless murmur -of the forest, over which was passing the first -cold shiver of the winter, how often have I said to -myself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"While you are looking, Frederick, at those -old woods wherein everything is sleeping, what is -happening down yonder in Champagne? What -has become of that immense army, the cavalry, the -infantry, the cannons, all those thousands of beings -going eagerly to destruction for the glory and -interest of a few? Shall we see them driven back in -disorder? Will they remain lying amid the mists -of the Meuse, or will they return to place their -heel upon our necks?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I imagined great battles. The grandmother -also was very uneasy; she sat by the window and -said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen, Frederick, do you hear nothing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And I listened; it was only the wind among -the dry leaves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sometimes, but rarely, the city seemed to -awake; so a few cannon shots thundered amid the -echoes from Quatre Vents to Mittelbroun and -then all was silent again. The idea of Metz -sustained us; it was from there, above all, that we -hoped to obtain succour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I have nothing more to tell you about this -autumn of 1870; no news, no visits, and towards -the last but little hope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But I must tell you now about a thing that -surprised us a good deal, that we could not -understand, and which unhappily has now become too -clear for us, like many other things.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xiv"><span class="bold large">XIV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>About two weeks after the establishment of -Bismark Bohlen at Hagenau, we saw arrive one -morning in the valley a vehicle similar to those -used by the Germans who were starting for America -before the invention of railroads—a long wagon, -loaded with hundreds of old traps, straw beds, -bedsteads, frying-pans, lanterns, etc., with a muddy -dog and an unkempt wife and a horde of scabby -children, and the master himself leading his sorry -jade by the bridle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We looked at them in amazement, thinking, -"What does all this mean? What are these -people coming to do among us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Under the cover near the pole the woman, -already old, yellow, and wrinkled, her cap put on -awry, was picking the heads of the children, who -were swarming in the straw, boys and girls, all -light-haired and chubby and pussy, as potato-eaters -always are.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wilhelm, will you be quiet?" she said. -"Wait till I take a look—wait, I see something. -Good, I have it; you can tumble about now. -Wilhelmina, come put your head upon my knees; -each must take their turn; you can look at the -pine trees later."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the father, a big man, in a bottle-green -coat, that had a thousand wrinkles in the back; -his cheeks hanging, his little nose adorned with -a pair of spectacles, his pantaloons tucked into -his boots, and a big porcelain pipe in his mouth, -pulled on his miserable horse by the bridle and -said to his wife:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Herminia, look at those forests, those meadows, -this rich Alsace. We are in the terrestrial -paradise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a group resembling the gipsies, and, as -Merlin came to see us that day, we talked of -nothing but that the whole evening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But we were destined to see many more of -them, for these strangers, in old </span><em class="italics">cabriolets</em><span>, basket -wagons, </span><em class="italics">chars-a-banc</em><span>, and two or four wheeled -carriages, put into requisition along the road, -continued to pass for a long time. From the first of -them, the remembrance of whom has remained in -my mind, the train was never ending; there passed -daily three, four, or five vehicles, loaded with -children, old men, young women, and young girls—the -last gotten up in an odd style, with dresses -which, it seemed to me, I remembered having seen -some fifteen or twenty years before upon the ladies -of Saverne, and with wide hats, trimmed with -paper roses, set upon their plaits, just three hairs -thick, like the </span><em class="italics">queues</em><span> of our grandfathers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These people talked all kinds of German and -were hard to understand. They had also all kinds -of faces: some broad and fat, with venerable -beards; others sharp as a knife-blade, and with -their old overcoats buttoned to the throat, to hide -their shirts; some with light gray eyes and stiff, -shaggy, red whiskers; others little, round, lively, -going, running, and wriggling about; but all, at -the sight of our beautiful valley, uttering cries of -admiration and lifting up their hands, men, women, -and children, as we are told the Jews did on -entering into the Promised Land.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus came these people from all parts of Germany; -they had taken the railroads to our frontiers, -but all our lines being then occupied by their -troops and their provision and ammunition trains -starting from Wissembourg or from Soreltz, they -were forced to travel in wagons, after the Alsatian -fashion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sometimes one and sometimes another would -ask us the way to Saverne, Metting, or Lutzelstein; -they got down at the spring below the -bridge and drank from one of their pans or from -the hollow of their hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every day these passages were repeated, and I -cudgelled my brain to find out what these foreigners -were coming to do among us at so troubled a -time, when provisions were so scarce and when we -did not know to-day what we should have to eat -the morrow. They never said a word, but went -upon their way, under the protection of the -</span><em class="italics">landwehr</em><span> which filled the country. We have since -learned that they shared in the requisitions—a fact -which permitted them to save money and even to -get themselves into good condition on the road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>George, all these Bohemians of a new species, -whose miserable air filled our hearts with pity, even -in the midst of our troubles, were the functionaries -which Germany sent to be our administrators and -our rulers, preceptors, controllers, notaries, -schoolmasters, foresters, etc. They were persons who, -from the months of September and October, long -before the treaty of peace was signed, arrived -tranquilly to take the place of our own people, saying -to them, without ceremony, "Get out of there, so -that I may get in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One would have said that it was all agreed -upon beforehand, for it happened so even before -the capitulation of Strasburg.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How many poor devils, beer barrels or schnaps -drinkers, who had been whipping the devil around -the stump for years and years in all the little cities -of Pomerania, of Brandenburg, and further still, -who never would have become anything at home, -and who did not know from whom to ask for -credit at home for rye bread and potatoes—how -many such men fell then upon rich Alsace, that -terrestrial paradise, promised to the Germans by -their kings, their professors, and their schoolmasters!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the time of which I speak they were still -modest, notwithstanding the wonderful victories -of their armies; they were not yet sure of -preserving that extraordinary good-fortune to the end, -and, comparing their old tattered coats and their -miserable appearance with the easy fortune of the -least of the functionaries of Alsace and of -Lorraine, they doubtless said to themselves:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It cannot be possible that the Lord should -have chosen scamps like us to fill such good places. -What extraordinary merit have we, then, to play -first fiddle in a country such as this, which the -French have occupied for two hundred years, -which they have cultivated, planted, and enriched -with workshops and factories and improvements -of all kinds? Provided that they do not return -to retake it, and to force us to return to our -schnaps and our potatoes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes, George, with a little common sense and -justice, these intruders must have reasoned thus -to themselves; a sort of uneasiness could be -recognised in their eyes and in their smile. But once -Strasburg was taken and Metz given up, and they -comfortably installed in large and fine houses, -which they had not built, sleeping in the good -beds of prefects, under-prefects, judges, and other -personages, of whom they had never even had -an idea; after having imposed taxes upon the -good lands which they had not sowed, and laid -hands upon the registers of all the administrations, -which they had not established, seeing the money, -the good money of rich Alsace, flowing into their -coffers—then, George, they believed themselves -to be really presidents of something, inspectors, -controllers, receivers, and the German pride, which -they know so well how to hide with cringing when -they are not the stronger—that brutal pride puffed -out their cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There always remained to them during the time -that I was still down yonder an old remembrance -of the Lorempé Strasse and of the Speingler Volk, -where they had formerly lived. That remembrance -made them very economical; two of them would -order a mug of beer and pay for it between them; -they disputed about farthings with the shoemaker -and the tailor; they found something to find fault -with in every bill, crying out that we wanted to -cheat them; and the poorest cobbler among us -would have been ashamed to display the meanness -of these new functionaries, who promised us so -many benefits in the name of the German -fatherland, and who showed us so much avarice and -even abominable meanness. But that only showed -us with what race we had now to do.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xv"><span class="bold large">XV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>One day, towards the end of October, one of -the </span><em class="italics">gens-d'armes</em><span> of Bismark Bohlen, who passed -every morning through the valley, halted at the -door of the forest house, calling:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hillo, somebody!" I went out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are the Brigadier Frederick?" asked the man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," I answered, "my name is Frederick, -and I am a brigadier forester."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right," said he, holding out a letter; "here -is something for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he trotted off to join his comrade, who -was waiting for him a little farther on. I entered -the house. Marie-Rose and the grandmother were -uneasy; they looked on in silence as I opened the -letter, saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What can those Prussians want with me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was an order from the Oberförster,[#] established -at Zornstadt, to be at his house the next -day, with all the foresters of my brigade. I read -the letter aloud and the women were frightened.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Chief Inspector of the forest.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"What are you going to do, father?" asked -Marie-Rose, after a pause.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is what I am thinking about," I -answered; "these Germans have no right to give me -orders, but they are now the strongest; they may -turn us out of doors any day. I must think it -over."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was walking up and down the room, feeling -very much worried, when all at once Jean Merlin -passed rapidly before the windows, ascended the -steps and entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, Marie-Rose," said he, "good -morning, grandmother. You have received the -order from the Oberförster, brigadier?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" said he, "those people have no confidence -in us; all the foresters have received the -same thing. Shall we go?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must see about it," I said; "you must -go to Petite Pierre and ask the advice of our inspector."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The clock was striking eight. Jean started at -once; at twelve o'clock he had already returned -to tell us that M. Laroche wished us to see what -the Germans wanted with us, and to send him an -account of it as soon as possible. So it was -resolved that we should go.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You must know, George, that since the arrival -of the Germans the forests were robbed by wholesale; -all the wood still in cords and piled in the -clearings, vanished, fagot by fagot: the </span><em class="italics">landwehr</em><span> -carried off all that was within their reach; they liked -to sit by a good fire in their earthworks before the -city. The peasants, too, helped themselves liberally, -one might almost say that the property of the -State belonged to the first-comer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I told my guards without ceasing to watch the -culprits closely, that the wood still belonged to -France, and that after the war they would have to -account for it. My district suffered less than the -others, because I continued to make my rounds as -heretofore; people always respect those who do -their duty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So I sent Jean to tell his comrades to meet -without fail the next day at the forest house, wearing -their uniform, but without badges, and that we -would go together to Zornstadt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next day, when all had assembled, we took -up the line of march, and about one o'clock we -arrived in the vestibule of the great house, wherein -the Oberförster had installed himself and all his -family. It was a great holiday at Zornstadt for -the Prussians. They had just heard of the capitulation -of Bazaine, and they were singing in all the -public houses. The Oberförster was giving a -banquet. Naturally this ill news made our hearts -very heavy. The other brigades had already met -at the door, headed by the brigadiers, Charles -Werner, Jacob Hepp, and Balthazar Redig.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After having shaken hands, it was decided -that we should listen to the remarks of the Oberförster -in silence, and that I, as the oldest brigadier, -should speak for all if there was anything to -reply. We still waited for over half an hour, as -the banquet was not yet over; they were laughing -and joking, playing the piano and singing "Die -Wacht am Rhein." In spite of their immense -vanity, these people had not expected such great -victories, and I think that if we had had other -generals, that, in spite of their preparations and -their superiority in numbers, they would not have -had the opportunity to be so merry at our expense.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last, about two o'clock, a German in a green -felt hat, adorned with two or three cock feathers, -with a joyous air, and cheeks scarlet to the ears, -for he had just left the kitchen, came and opened -the door, saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You may come in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After traversing a long room, we found the -Oberförster alone, seated in an arm-chair at the -end of a long table, still covered with dessert and -bottles of all kinds, with a red face, and his hands -crossed upon his stomach with an air of -satisfaction. He was a handsome man in his jacket of -green cloth edged with marten fur—yes, George, -I will confess it, a very handsome man, tall, -well-made, a square head, short hair, solid jaws, long -red mustaches and side whiskers, that, so to -speak, covered his shoulders. Only his large red -nose, covered with flowery splotches, astonished -you at first sight, and forced you to turn away -your eyes out of respect for his rank. He looked -at us as we entered, his little gray eyes screwed -up; and when we had all gathered round the table, -cap in hand, after having scrutinized us carefully, -he settled his waistcoat, coughed a little, and said -to us, with an air of deep emotion:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are good people. You have all honest -German faces; that pleases me! Your get-up is -very good also; I am satisfied with you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the side room the guests were laughing; -this forced the Oberförster to interrupt himself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wilhelm, shut the door!" said he to the -servant who had let us in. The waiter obeyed, -and the Oberförster continued:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, you have good German faces! When -I think that you have been kept for so many years -in the service of that race of boasters, it makes me -angry. But, thanks to the Almighty, and thanks -also to the armies of our glorious King William, -the hour of deliverance has arrived, the reign of -Sodom and Gomorrah is over. We will no longer -see honest fathers of families doing their duty with -loyalty and exactness, and preserving the property -of his Majesty; we will no longer see such people -living on a salary of five or six hundred francs, while -adventurers, law-breakers, gamblers, people swallowed -up in vice, award themselves forty millions -a year to support dancing girls, cooks, and toadies, -and to declare war at random upon pacific neighbours, -without reason, without foresight, without -armies, without ammunition, and without cannon, -like real idiots! No, that will never be seen -again; old Germany is opposed to it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the Oberförster, satisfied with what he -had just said, filled his glass in order to refresh his -ideas; he drank solemnly, with half-closed eyes, -and continued:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have sent for you to confirm you in all your -situations; for I visited the forests, I saw that all -was in order; I saw that you were faithful servants; -it is but just that you should remain. And -I announce to you that your salaries are to be -doubled; that old servants, instead of being put -on the retired list, shall receive promotion; that -they shall enjoy an honest competency proportionate -to their rank; finally, that the munificence of -his Majesty will extend itself to you all, and in -your old age you will bless the happy annexation -of this noble land, Alsace, to the mother country. -You will relate some day to your children and -grandchildren the story of this long captivity in -Babylon, during which you suffered so much, and -you will also become the most faithful subjects of -his Most Gracious Majesty, the King of Prussia. -This is what I wish! Old functionaries like you, -honoured and respected in the country because of -the faithfulness of their services, exercise always a -great influence over the peasantry. You will -express loudly your attachment to our glorious King -William, that hearty attachment which every German -feels. Yes, you will take the oath of allegiance -to his Majesty; and as to the rest, as to the -augmentation of your salary, I give you my word -as an Oberförster that all will be done according -to the promises I have just made you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While he was talking he did not cease to watch -us; behind us were two or three tall Germans in -uniform, who appeared dazzled and touched by his -discourse. But as for us we remained cold, cap in -hand; and as I was to be the spokesman they all -looked at me to see what I thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You can imagine, George, my silent indignation -to see that they called us good servants, honest -people in order to make traitors of us. I felt -my cheeks getting red; I would have liked to be -able to answer that only rascals would have -accepted the title of honest men, by forfeiting their -honour; but I held my tongue, not wishing to -answer for my comrades, several of whom had -large families; the responsibility seemed too great.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Oberförster having ended, he looked at -us fixedly; at me in particular, and he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well! you may speak; I authorize you to speak."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then I answered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir, as the oldest forester of the three -brigades, my comrades have requested me to speak -for them all; but the proposition that you have -just made is serious; I think that every one will -ask for time to think it over."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They all nodded assent; and he, who was -really astonished, for he had doubtless thought -that the augmentation of the salaries would decide -everything, remained for over a minute with his -eyes wide open, staring at me as if I were -something extraordinary; then he did as much for the -others, and, frowning, he said gruffly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I give you twenty-four hours! To-morrow -at this time I want to have your written reply, -signed by each of you; yes or no! Do not think -that there is any lack of men, there are plenty in -Germany, good people, old foresters, who know -the service as well as the smartest of you, who -would ask nothing better than to come into this -rich Alsace, where everything grows so abundantly, -to live in comfortable houses in the midst -of magnificent forests, having nothing to do but -to take a little turn in the neighbourhood -morning and evening, to draw up a report, and to -receive for that twelve or fifteen hundred francs a -year, with the garden, the strip of meadow, the -pasture for the cow, and all the rest of it. No, -do not think that! Hundreds are waiting -impatiently till we tell them to come. And weigh -well your answer; think of your wives and your -children; beware of having to repent bitterly if -you say no! France is completely ruined, she is -penniless; the wretched forests that are left her -in Brittany and the Landes are nothing but -broom-sticks; the guards of these thickets will -retain their places, and you will never get other -situations. You are Germans. The French used -you and despised you; they called you blockheads! -Think over all this; it is the advice of -an honest man that I give you, of a German -brother and the father of a family!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked at me, thinking that I was going -to say something; but I compressed my lips, and -I felt as if little puffs of cold wind were passing -over my forehead. All my companions were also -silent. At one side behind the door some one -was playing on the piano, and a woman was singing -a sweet and melancholy little song.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Twenty-four hours," he repeated, rising; -"not another minute." And, throwing his -napkin on the table angrily, he added:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Remember, too, that those who wish to answer -no can pack up at once; the highway is open -to them. We will never keep enemies among -us—dangerous persons—that would be too stupid. -We are not Frenchmen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So he entered the next room, while we went -out by the vestibule.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What the Oberförster had said to us, "that -we would have a hard time getting situations in -France, and that the Germans would force us to -be off without mercy," was terrible; the most -courageous hung their heads.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some of them, very pale, were thinking of -going to the Fir Tree Inn to deliberate; they -wanted, above all, to know my opinion; but I -said, stopping before the door of the inn:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"From this time, comrades, let us economize -all the little money that we have; five sous for a -glass of wine is always five sous. We shall -probably have to break up housekeeping, and at these -unhappy times everything is dear; travelling costs -money when we take women, children, and old -men with us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Big Kern insisted upon knowing what I -thought; several of them gathered around me, -so I finally said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See here, for what concerns myself I know -what I ought to do; but at such a moment as -this every one should be free to follow his own -conscience; I shall give no advice to any one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And seeing poor Jacob Hepp, the father of -six small children, standing with drooping head, -hanging arms, and cast-down eyes, I said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come! Let us shake hands all round once -more—for the last time, perhaps! May the old -recollections of friendship follow us wherever -Heaven may conduct us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Several of us kissed each other, and at that -place we parted.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xvi"><span class="bold large">XVI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Jean Merlin and I took the road to Felsberg -alone; I do not know what the others did, whether -they entered the inn or returned to their homes. -As for us, so many ideas were passing through -our heads that we walked on for a long while -without saying a word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On leaving Zornstadt, we ascended the hill of -Bruyères till we reached the plateau of Graufthal, -and suddenly the sun pierced the clouds and -shone upon the woods. The sun was very brilliant, -and showed us through the leafless trees in -the depths of the valley the pretty cottage in -which I had passed so many happy days since -Father Burat had given me his daughter in marriage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I stopped short. Jean, who was following me -along the path, also halted; and, leaning on our -sticks, we looked for a long time as if in a dream. -All the by-gone days seemed to pass before my eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The little cottage, on this clear, cold day, -looked as if it were painted on the hillside, in the -midst of the tall fir trees; its roof of gray -shingles, its chimney, from which curled a little -smoke, its windows, where in summer Marie-Rose -placed her pots of pinks and mignonette, the -trellis, over which climbed the ivy, the shed and -its worm-eaten pillars—all were there before me, -one might have thought it possible to touch them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When I saw that I said to myself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look, Frederick, look at this quiet corner of -the world, wherein thy youth has passed, and -from which thou must go away gray-headed, -without knowing where to turn; that humble dwelling -wherein thy dear wife Catherine gave thee -several children, some of whom lie beside her in -the earth at Dôsenheim. Look! and remember -how calmly thy life has glided away in the midst -of worthy people who called thee good son, kind -father, and honest man, and prayed God to load -thee with blessings. What good does it do thee -now to have been a good father and a dutiful son, -to have always done thy duly honestly, since they -drive thee away, and not a soul can intercede for -thee? The Germans are the strongest, and -strength is worth more than the right established -by God himself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I trembled at having dared to raise my -reproaches to the Almighty, but my grief was too -deep, and the iniquity appeared to me to be too -great. May Heaven forgive me for having -doubted of His goodness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As to the rest my resolution was taken; I -would rather a thousand times have died than -have committed so base an action. And, looking -at Merlin, who was leaning gloomily against a -birch tree near me, I said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am looking at my old abode for the last -time; to-morrow the Oberförster will receive my -answer, and day after to-morrow the furniture will -be piled upon the cart. Tell me now what do -you mean to do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he flushed scarlet and said: "Oh! Father -Frederick, can you ask me that? You pain -me by doing so. Do you not know what I will -do? I will do like you; there are not two ways -of being an honest man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is right—I knew it," I said; "but I -am very glad to have heard you say so. Everything -must be clear between us. We are not like -Germans, who chase the devil round the stump, -and think that everything is right, provided it -succeeds. Come, let us walk on, Jean, and keep -up your courage."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xvii"><span class="bold large">XVII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We began to descend the hill, and I confess -to you, George, that when I approached the house -and thought of how I should have to announce -the terrible news to my daughter and the -grandmother, my legs trembled under me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last we reached the threshold. Jean -entered first; I followed him and closed the door. -It was about four o'clock. Marie-Rose was -peeling potatoes for supper, and the grandmother, -seated in her arm-chair by the stove, was listening -to the crackling of the fire, as she had done for -years past.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Imagine our position. How could we manage -to tell them that the Germans were going to -turn us out of doors? But the poor women had -only to look at us to understand that something -very serious had happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After having put my stick in the corner by the -clock, and hung my cap on the nail, I walked up -and down the room several times; then, as I had -to commence somehow, I began to relate in detail -the propositions that the Oberförster had made -to us to enter the service of the King of -Prussia. I did not hurry myself; I told everything -clearly, without adding or suppressing anything, -wishing that the poor creatures might also have -the liberty of choosing between poverty and shame.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was sure that they would choose poverty. -Marie-Rose, deadly pale, lifted her hands to Heaven, -murmuring:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My God! is it possible? Do such rascals -exist in the world? Ah! I would rather die than -join such a company of wretches!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It pleased me to see that my daughter had a -brave heart, and Jean Merlin was so touched that -I saw his lip quiver.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The grandmother seemed to wake up like a -snail in its shell; her chin trembled, her dull eyes -sparkled with anger; I was surprised at it myself. -And when I went on to say that the Oberförster, -if we refused to serve Prussia, gave us twenty-four -hours to leave our home, her indignation burst -forth all at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To quit the house?" said she, lifting her bent -form, "but this house is mine! I was born in -this house more than eighty years ago, and I have -never left it. It was my grandfather, Laurent -Duchêne, who first lived here, more than a hundred -and thirty years ago, and who planted the fruit -trees on the hill; it was my father, Jacquemin, -who first marked out the road to Dôsenheim and -the paths of Tömenthal; it was my husband, -George Burat, and my son-in-law Frederick here, -who sowed the first seeds of the beech trees and -firs, whose forests now extend over the two valleys; -and all of us, from father to son, we have lived -quietly in this house; we have earned it; we have -surrounded the garden with hedges and palisades; -every tree in the orchard belongs to us; we saved -up money to buy the meadows, to build the barn -and the stables. Drive us away from this house? -Ah! the wretches! Those are German ideas! -Well, let them come! I, Anne Burat, will have -something to say to them!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I could not calm the poor old grandmother; -all that she said was just; but with people who -believe that strength is everything, and that shame -and injustice are nothing, what is the use of talking -so much?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When she sat down again, all out of breath, I -asked her, in a very sad but firm voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Grandmother, do you wish me to accept service -with the Germans?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No!" said she.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then within forty-eight hours we must all -leave together this old house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never!" she cried. "I will not!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I tell you it must be," said I, with an -aching heart. "I </span><em class="italics">will</em><span> have it so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" she cried, with painful surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And I continued, with anguish:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know, grandmother, that I have always -had the greatest respect for you. May those -Germans be a thousand times accursed for having -forced me to be disrespectful to you; I hate them -still more for it, if possible! But do you not -understand, grandmother, that those brutes are without -shame, without honour, without pity even for -old age, and if they encountered the slightest -resistance they would drag you out by your gray hair? -You are weak and they are strong, and that is -enough for them! Do you not understand that if -I saw such a spectacle I would throw myself upon -them, even if they were a regiment, and that they -would kill me? Then what would become of you -and my daughter? That is what we must think -of, grandmother. Forgive me for having spoken -so harshly to you, but I do not wish for a minute's -grace, nor, I am sure, do you; beside, they would -not let us have it, for they are pitiless people!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She burst into tears and sobbed out:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! my God! my God! to have to leave -this house, where I hoped to see my grand-daughter -happy and to nurse my great-grandchildren! -My God! why did you not call me away sooner?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She wept so bitterly that it touched our hearts, -and all of us, with bowed heads, felt the tears -trickle down our checks. How many recollections -came to us all! But the poor grandmother -had more than any of us, having never quitted the -valley for so many years, except to go two or three -times a year to market at Saverne or Phalsbourg; -those were her longest journeys.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xviii"><span class="bold large">XVIII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>At last the blow was struck. Cruel necessity, -George, had spoken by my lips; the women had -understood that we must go away, perhaps never -to return; that nothing could prevent this fearful -misfortune.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That was done; but another duty, still more -painful, remained to fulfil. When the lamentations -had ceased, and we were meditating, mute -and overwhelmed, raising up my voice anew, I said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jean Merlin, you asked me last summer for -my daughter in marriage, and I accepted you to -be my son, because I knew you, I liked you, and -I esteemed you as much as the greatest man in -the country. So it was settled; our promises had -been given, we wanted nothing more! But then -I was a brigadier forester, I was about to receive -my pension, and my post was promised to you. -Without being rich, I had a little property; my -daughter might be considered a good match. Now -I am nobody any more; to tell the truth, I am -even a poor man. The old furniture I possess -suits this house; if it were taken with us it would -be in the way; the meadow, for which I paid -fifteen hundred francs from my savings, also because -it was convenient to the forest house, will be worth -little more than half when it has to be sold over -again. Beside, perhaps the Germans will declare -that all real estate belongs to them. It depends -only upon themselves, since the strongest are -always in the right! You, too, will find yourself -without a situation; you will be obliged to -support your old mother. The maintenance of a wife -in the midst of all this poverty may appear very -troublesome. Therefore, Jean, my honour and -that of my daughter oblige me to release you from -your promise. Things are no longer as they were; -Marie-Rose has nothing, and I can understand that -an honest man, on such a grave situation, might -change his mind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merlin turned pale as he listened to me, and -he answered, in a gruff voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I asked for Marie-Rose for her own sake, -Father Frederick, because I loved her, and she -also loved me. I did not ask for her for the sake -of your place, nor yet for the sake of the money -she might have; if I had thought of such a thing, -I would have been a scoundrel. And now I love -her more than ever, for I have seen that she has a -noble heart, which is above everything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, rising and opening his arms, he cried: -"Marie-Rose!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Scarcely had he called her, when she turned, -her face bathed in tears, and threw herself into his -arms. They remained clasped in a close embrace -for some time, and I thought to myself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All is well; my daughter is in the hands of -an honest man; that is my greatest consolation in -the midst of all my misfortunes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After that, George, in spite of our grief, we -grew calm again. Merlin and I agreed that he -would go the next day to carry our answer to -Zornstadt: "No, Oberförster, we will not enter -the service of the King of Prussia!" I wrote my -letter at once and he put it in his pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was also agreed that I should go early to -Graufthal, and try to find lodgings for ourselves, -wherein we could place our furniture. The three -first-floor rooms belonging to Father Ykel, the -host of the Cup Inn, had been empty ever since -the invasion, as not a traveller came to the -country. There must certainly be room in his stable, -too; so I hoped to hire them cheap.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As to Merlin, he had still to tell his mother, -and he said to us that she would go to Felsberg, -where Uncle Daniel would be very glad to receive -her. The old schoolmaster and his sister had kept -house together for a long time, and it was only -after Jean Merlin's installation in the forester's -house at Tömenthal that he had taken his mother -to live with him. Good old Margredel had nothing -to do but to return to the village, where her -little house was waiting for her. So our final -resolutions were taken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jean also took upon himself to go and tell -M. Laroche of what had occurred, and to say also that -I would come and see him after our flitting. Then -he kissed Marie-Rose, said a few encouraging -words to the grandmother, and went out. I went -with him as far as the threshold and shook hands. -The night had come; it was freezing cold; every -blade of grass in the valley was sparkling with -frost, and the sky was glittering with stars. What -weather in which to leave our home and to seek -another shelter!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As I returned to the room, I saw poor Calas -empty the saucepan of potatoes on the table and -place the two pots of clotted milk beside the -salad-bowl, looking at us with an amazed air; no one -stirred.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, Calas," I said; "eat alone; none -of us are hungry this evening."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So he sat down and began to peel his potatoes; -having cleaned out the stable and given forage to -the cattle, he had done his duty and his conscience -was easy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Happy are those who cannot see the morrow, -and whom the Almighty only governs, without -kings, without emperors, and without ministers. -They have not one-quarter of our sorrows. The -squirrel, the hare, the fox, all the animals of the -woods and the plains, receive their new fur at the -beginning of winter; the birds of the air receive -finer down; those who cannot live in the snow, -for lack of insects to feed them, have strong wings, -that enable them to seek a warmer climate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is only man who receives nothing! Neither -his labour, nor his foresight, nor his courage can -preserve him from misfortune; his fellow beings -are often his worst enemies and his old age is often -the extreme of misery. Such is our share of existence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some people would like to change these things, -but no one has the courage and the good sense -which are necessary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Finally, at nightfall we separated, to think -over, each alone in his corner, the terrible blow -that had overwhelmed us.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xix"><span class="bold large">XIX</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>On the following day, which was the first of -November, at dawn, I set out for Graufthal. I -had put on my blouse, my thick shoes, and my felt -hat. The trees along the roadside were bending -under their covering of frost; occasionally a -blackbird or a thrush would rise from under the white -brushwood, uttering its cry, as if to bid me -farewell. I have often thought of it since; I was on -the path of exile, George; it was only beginning, -and extended very far.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Towards seven o'clock I arrived under the large -rocks, where the most wretched huts in the village -were situated—the others were built along the -banks of the river—and I stopped before that of -Father Ykel. I went through the kitchen into -the smoky little parlour of the inn. Nothing was -stirring; I thought I was alone and I was about -to call, when I saw Ykel, sitting behind the stove, -his short black pipe, with a copper cover, between -his teeth, and his cotton cap pushed over one ear; -he did not move, as he had had, a few weeks -before, an attack of rheumatism, brought on by his -long fishing excursions among the mountain -streams, and also at night by torchlight, amid the -mists.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The valley had never known such a fisher; he -sold crawfish and trout to the great hotels of -Strasbourg. Unhappily, as we all have to pay -for our imprudences, sooner or later, he had been -attacked by the rheumatism, and now all he could -do was to sit and think about the best places in -the river and the great hauls he used to make.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When I discovered him, his little green eyes -were already fixed upon me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it you, Father Frederick?" he said. -"What is your business here among these rascals -who are robbing us? If I were you, I would -stay quietly in the forest; the wolves are much -better neighbours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We cannot always do as we like," I -answered. "Are your three upper rooms still -empty, and have you room enough in your -stable for two cows?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Haven't I, though!" he cried. "The Prussians -have made room! They have taken everything—straw, -hay, oats, flour, and the cattle. Ah! room; -I guess so; from the garret to the cellar, -we have plenty; it will not run out for a long time!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And he uttered a harsh laugh, gnashing his -old teeth and muttering:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! the wretches! God grant that we may -one day have the upper hand; I would go there -on crutches, in spite of my rheumatism, to get -back what they took from me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then," said I, "the rooms are empty?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, and the stable, too, with the hayloft. -But why do you ask me that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I have come to hire them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You!" cried he, in amazement. "Then you -are not going to stay at the forest house?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, the Prussians have turned me out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Turned you out! And why?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because I did not choose to serve under the -Germans."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Ykel appeared touched; his long hooked -nose curved itself over his mouth, and, in a grave -voice, he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I always thought you were an honest man. -You were a little severe in the service, but you -were always just; no one has ever been able to -say anything to the contrary."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he called:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Katel! Katel!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And his daughter, who had just lighted the fire -on the hearth, entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look here, Katel," said he, pointing to me; -"here is Father Frederick, whom the Prussians -have turned out of his house, with his daughter -and grandmother, because he will not join their -band. That is a thousand times worse than the -requisitions; it is enough to make one's hair stand -on end."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His daughter also sided with us, crying that -the heavens ought to fall to crush such rascals. -She took me up-stairs, climbing the ladder-like -stairs to show me the rooms that I wished to -hire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You cannot imagine anything more wretched; -you could touch the beams of the ceiling with -your hand; the narrow windows, with lead-framed -casements, in the shadow of the rocks, gave -scarcely a ray of light.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How different from our pretty cottage, so well -lighted, on the slope of the hill! Yes, it was -very gloomy, but we had no choice; we had to -lodge somewhere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I told Katel to make a small fire in the large -room, so as to drive away the damp; then, going -down-stairs again. Father Ykel and I agreed that -I should have the first floor of his house, two -places in the stable for my cows, the little hayloft -above, with a pig-sty, one corner of the cellar for -my potatoes, and half the shed, where I intended -to put the furniture that would not go into the -rooms, at a rent of eight francs a month—a pretty -large sum at a time when no one was making a -</span><em class="italics">centime</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two or three neighbours, the big coal man, -Starck, and his wife; Sophie, the basket-maker; -Koffel, and Hulot, the old smuggler, were then -arriving at the inn, to take their glass of brandy, -as usual. Ykel told them of the new abominations -of the Germans; and they were disgusted -at them. Starck offered to come with his cart -and horses to help me to move, and I accepted, -thankfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Things were settled that way; Starck promised -me again to come without fail before noon; -after which I took the road towards home. It had -begun to snow; not a soul before or behind me -was on the path, and, about nine o'clock, I was -stamping my feet in the entry to get off the snow. -Marie-Rose was there. I told her briefly that -I had engaged our lodgings, that she must -prepare the grandmother to leave very soon, to empty -the contents of the cupboards into baskets, and -to take the furniture to pieces. I called Calas -to help me and went to work at once, scarcely -taking time enough to breakfast. The hammer -resounded through the house; we heard the -grand-mother sobbing in the smaller room and -Marie-Rose trying to console her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It all seems to come back to me. It was -terrible to hear the lamentations of the poor old -woman, to hear her complain of the fate that -overwhelmed her in her old age, and then to call -on her husband for aid, good Father Burat, who -had died ten years before, and all the old people, -whose bones lay in the cemetery at Dôsenheim. -It makes me shudder when I think of it, and the -kind words of my daughter come back to me and -touch my heart anew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hammer did its work; the furniture, the -little looking-glass by Catherine's bed—my poor -dead wife—the portraits of the grandfather and -grandmother, painted by Ricard, the same who -painted the beautiful signs in the time of Charles -X; the two holy-water vessels and the old crucifix, -from the back of the alcove; the chest of drawers -belonging to Marie-Rose, and the large walnut-wood -wardrobe that had come down to us from -great-grandfather Duchêne; all those old things -that reminded us of people long dead, and of our -quiet, peaceful life, and which, for many years, -had had their places, so that we could find them -by groping in the darkest night; everything was -taken away; it was, so to speak, our existence -that we had to undo with our own hands!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Ragot, who came and went, all astonished -at the confusion; Calas, who kept asking, -"What have we done, to be obliged to run away -like thieves?" And the rest!—for I do not -remember it at all, George! I would even like to -forget it all, and never to have begun this story of -the shame of humanity and the humiliation of -that sort of Christians who reduce their fellow -creatures to utter misery, because they will not -kneel before their pride. However, since we have -begun it, let us go on to the end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All that was nothing as yet. It was when big -Starck came, and the furniture was loaded on his -wagon, we had at last to tell the grandmother to -leave her little room, and when, seeing all that -desolation in the road, she fell on her face, crying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Frederick, Frederick, kill me! let me die, -but do not take me away! Let me, at least, -sleep quietly under the snow in our little garden!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, George, I wished that I were dead -myself. The blood seemed curdling in my veins. -And now, after four years, I would be puzzled to -tell you how the grandmother found herself placed -in the cart, in the midst of the mattresses and -straw beds, under the thousands of snow-flakes -that were falling from the sky.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xx"><span class="bold large">XX</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The snow, which had continued to fall since -morning, was by this time quite deep. The great -wagon went slowly on its way, Starck, in front, -pulling his nags by the bridle, swearing, and -forcing them to advance by blows; Calas, farther on, -was driving along the pigs and cows; Ragot was -helping him; Marie-Rose and I followed, with -drooping heads; and behind us the cottage, all -white with snow, among the firs, was gradually -vanishing in the distance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We had still our potatoes, wood, and fodder -to take away the next day, so I closed the door -and put the key in my pocket before leaving.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At nightfall we arrived before Ykel's house. -I took the grandmother in my arms, like a child, -and carried her up-stairs to her room, where Katel -had kindled a bright fire. Marie-Rose and Katel -kissed each other; they had been schoolmates and -had been confirmed together at Felsberg. Katel -burst into tears. Marie-Rose, who was deadly -pale, said nothing. They went up-stairs together, -and, while Starck and Calas and two or three of -the neighbours were unloading the furniture and -putting it under the shed, I went into the parlour, -to sit down for a few minutes behind the stove -and to take a glass of wine, for I could not stand -it any longer; I was exhausted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Our first night at Graufthal, in that loft, -through which poured the draught from the garret, -is the saddest that I can remember; the stove -smoked, the grandmother coughed in her bed; -Marie-Rose, in spite of the cold, got up to give -her a drink; the little window-panes rattled at -every blast of the wind, and the snow drifted in -upon the floor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ah! yes, we suffered terribly that first night! -And, not being able to close my eyes, I said to -myself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will be impossible to live here! We -should all be dead in less than two weeks. We -must positively go somewhere else. But where -shall we go? What road can we take?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All the villages of Alsace and Lorraine were -filled with Germans, the roads were crowded with -cannon and convoys; not a hut, not even a stable -was free.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These ideas almost made my hair turn gray; -I wished that I had broken my neck in coming -down the steps of the forest house, and I wished -the same thing for the grandmother and my -daughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Happily, Jean Merlin arrived early the next -morning. He had taken our answer to the -Oberförster, he had moved his furniture to Felsberg, -and old Margredel, his mother, was already sitting -quietly beside the fire at Uncle Daniel's house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He told us that with a good-humoured air, -after having kissed Marie-Rose and said -good-morning to the grandmother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Only to see how his confidence had already -lightened my heart; and when I complained of -the cold, the smoke, and of our bad night, he -cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes! I understand all that, brigadier; I -thought as much; so I hurried to come here. -It is very hard to leave your old ways and come -to live among strangers at your age; that -paralyzes one's arm. Such occasions change one's -ideas. Here is the key of my cottage and the -book of estimations; you have also your -register and the stamping hammer. Well, do you -know what I would do in your place? I would -take everything to our chief inspector, because -the Oberförster of Zornstadt might ask you for -them and force you to give them up. When they -are deposited with M. Laroche no one will have -anything more to say to you. While you are -away Marie-Rose will wash the windows and the -floor; Calas will go with Starck to get the wood, -the fodder, and the potatoes, and I will undertake -to arrange the furniture and to put everything in -order."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He spoke with so much good sense that I -followed his advice. We went down into the large -room, and though it is not my habit, we took a -good glass of brandy together; after which I set -out, the register under my blouse, the hammer in -my pocket, and a stout stick in my hand. It was -my last journey through the country on affairs -connected with the service. The pool of Frohmithle -was frozen over; the flour-mill and the saw-mill -lower down had ceased to go. No one, since the -day before, had followed my path; all seemed -desolate; for three hours I did not see a soul.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, remembering the smoke from the charcoal -kilns, the sound of the wood-cutters' hatchets -working in the clearings, lopping the trees, piling -up the fagots beside the forest paths, even in -mid-winter, all that formerly gay life, that profit that -gave food and happiness to the smallest hamlets, -I said to myself that the robbers, who were -capable of troubling such order to appropriate -wrongfully the fruit of the labour of others, ought to be -hanged.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And from time to time, in the midst of the -silence, seeing a sparrow-hawk pass on his large -wings, his claws drawn up under his stomach and -uttering his war cry, I thought:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is like the Prussians! They have got -the Germans in their claws; they have given them -officers who will cudgel them; instead of working, -those people are forced to spend their last penny -in the war, and the others have always their beaks -and claws in their flesh; they pluck them leisurely, -without their being able to defend themselves. -Woe to us all! The noble Prussians will devour -us; and the Badeners, the Bavarians, the -Würtembergers, and the Hessians with us!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Those melancholy ideas, and many others of -the same kind, passed through my mind. About -ten o'clock I ascended the stairs of the old fort, -abandoned since the beginning of the war; then -descending the Rue du Faubourg, I entered the -house of the chief inspector. But the office door -in the vestibule at the left was closed; I rang and -tried to open the door, but no one came. I was -going out to ask one of the neighbours what had -become of M. Laroche, and whether he had been -obliged to go away, when an upper door opened, -and the chief inspector himself appeared on the -stairs in his dressing-gown.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxi"><span class="bold large">XXI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Who is there?" said M. Laroche, not recognising -me at first under my broad-brimmed felt hat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is I, sir," I answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! it is you, Father Frederick!" said he, -quite rejoiced. "Well, come up stairs. All my -household has departed, I am here alone; they -bring me my meals from the Grapes Inn. Come -in, come in!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We went into a very neat little room on the -first floor; a large fire was burning in the stove. -And, pushing forward an arm-chair for me:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Take this chair, Father Frederick," said he, -seating himself beside a small table covered with -books. So I sat down, and we began to talk over -our affairs. I told him about our visit to the -Oberförster; he knew all about that and a good many -other things beside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad to find," said he, "that all our -guards, except poor Hepp, the father of six -children, have done their duty. With regard to you, -Father Frederick, I never had the least doubt -about either your son-in-law or yourself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he inquired about our position; and, taking -the register and the hammer, he put them in a -closet, saying that his papers were already gone, -that he would send these after them. He asked -me if we were not in pressing need. I answered -that I had still three hundred francs, that I had -saved to buy a strip of meadow, beside the -orchard, that that would doubtless be sufficient.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So much the better!" said he. "You know, -Father Frederick, that my purse is at your service; -it is not very full just now; every one has to -economize their resources, for Heaven only knows -how long this campaign may last; but if you want -some money——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I thanked him again. We talked together like -real friends. He even asked me to take a cigar -from his box; but I thanked him and refused. -Then he asked me if I had a pipe, and told -me to light it. I tell you this to make you -understand what a fine man our chief inspector was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I remember that he told me after that that all -was not yet over; that doubtless our regular army -had surrendered </span><em class="italics">en masse</em><span>; that all our officers, -marshals, generals, even the simple corporals had -fallen into the power of the enemy, a thing that -had never been seen before since the beginning of -the history of France, or in that of any other -nation; that pained him, and even if I may say so -made him indignant. He had tears in his eyes -like myself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But after that, he said that Paris held good, -that the great people of Paris had never shown so -much courage and patriotism; he added that a -large and solid army, though composed of young -men, had been formed near Orleans, and that great -things were expected from it; that the republic -had been proclaimed after Sedan as the peasants -go for a doctor when the patient is dying, and -that, however, this republic had had the courage -to take upon itself the burden of all the disasters, -dangers that it had not caused, while those who -had drawn us into the war withdrew to a foreign -country. That a very energetic man, Gambetta, a -member of the provisory government, was at the -head of this great movement; that he was calling -around him all the Frenchmen in a condition to -bear arms, without distinction of opinions, and -that if the campaign lasted a few months longer -the Germans could not hold out; that all the -heads of the families being enlisted, their estates, -their workshops, their improvements were neglected. -No ploughing or sowing were done, and that -the women and children, the entire population, -were dying of terrible starvation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We have since seen, George, that those things -were true; all the letters that we found on the -</span><em class="italics">landwehr</em><span> told of the terrible poverty in Germany.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So what M. Laroche told me filled me with -hope. He promised also to have my pension paid -to me as soon as it would be possible, and about -one o'clock I left him, full of confidence. He -shook hands with me and called out from the door:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep up a good heart, Father Frederick; we -will have happy days yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After I left him I felt like another man, and I -walked leisurely back to Graufthal, where a most -agreeable surprise awaited me.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxii"><span class="bold large">XXII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Jean Merlin had put everything in order. -The cracks in the roof and in the doors and -windows were stopped up; the floor was washed, the -furniture placed and the pictures hung, as much -as possible as they were at the forest house. It -was bitterly cold outside; our stove, which Jean -had put up and blackleaded, drew like a forge -bellows, and the grandmother, sitting beside it in her -old arm-chair, was listening to the crackling of the -fire, and looking at the flame which was lighting -up the room. Marie-Rose, with her sleeves rolled -up, seemed delighted at my satisfaction; Jean -Merlin, his pipe in his mouth and screwing up his -eyes, looked at me as if to say:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Papa Frederick, what do you think of -this? Is it cold now in this room? Is not everything -clean, shining and in good order? Marie-Rose -and I did all that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And when I saw all that I said to them:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right. The grandmother is warm. Now -I see that we can stay here. You are good -children!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That pleased them very much. They set the -table. Marie-Rose had made a good soup of -cabbages and bacon, for as the Germans took all the -fresh meat for their own use we were very glad to -get even smoked meat; fortunately potatoes, -cabbages, and turnips did not run out and they formed -our principal resource.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That evening we all took supper together; and -during the repast I related in all its details what -the chief inspector had told me about the affairs -of the republic. It was the first positive news we -had had from France for a long time; so you may -guess how eagerly they all listened to me. Jean's -eyes sparkled when I spoke of approaching battles -near the Loire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" said he, "they call the French the old -soldiers. Indeed! they defend their country, then!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And I cried, full of enthusiasm:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, they will defend their country! -You had better believe it! The chief inspector -says that if it lasts for a few months the others -will have enough of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he twirled his mustache, seemed almost -to speak; but then looking at Marie-Rose, who -was listening to us with her usual quiet aspect, he -went on eating, saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Anyhow, you give me great pleasure by telling -me that, Father Frederick; yes, it is famous news."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last, about eight o'clock, he went away, -announcing that he would be back on the morrow -or the day after, and we went quietly to bed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This night was as comfortable as the night -before had been cold and disagreeable; we slept -soundly in spite of the frost outside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had recovered from my sorrow; I thought -that we could live at Graufthal till the end of -the war.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxiii"><span class="bold large">XXIII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Once withdrawn under the rocks of Graufthal, -I hoped that the Germans would let us alone. -What else could they ask from us? We had given -up everything; we lived in the most wretched -village in the country, in the midst of the forest; -their squads came very seldom into this corner, -whose inhabitants were so poor that they could -scarcely find a few bundles of hay or straw to take -away with them. All seemed for the best, and we -thought that we would not have anything more to -do with the accursed race.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Unfortunately we are often mistaken; things -do not always turn out as we thought they would. -Soon it was rumoured that Donadien, big Kern, -and the other guards had crossed the Vosges; that -they were fighting the Germans near Belfort, and -all at once the idea struck me that Jean would also -want to go. I hoped that Marie-Rose would keep -him back, but I was not sure of it. The fear -haunted me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every morning, while my daughter arranged -the rooms, and the grandmother told her beads, I -went down stairs to smoke my pipe in the large -room with Father Ykel. Koffel, Starck, and -others would come dropping in, to take a glass of -brandy; they told of domiciliary visits, of orders -not to ring the bells, of the arrival of German -schoolmasters to replace our own, of the requisitions -of all kinds that increased every day, of the -unhappy peasants who were compelled to work to -feed the Prussians, and of a thousand other atrocities -that infuriated one against those stupid -Badeners, Bavarians, and Würtembergers, who were -allowing themselves to be killed for the sake of -King William, and warring against their own -interests. Big Starck, who was very pious, and -always went to mass every Sunday, said that they -would all be damned, without hope of redemption, -and that their souls would be burned to all eternity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That helped to make the time pass agreeably. -One day Hulot brought us his grandson, Jean -Baptiste, a big boy of sixteen, in his vest and -pantaloons of coarse linen, his feet bare, winter as -well as summer, in his large shoes, his hair -hanging in long, yellow locks over his face, and a -satchel hanging over his thin back. This boy, -sitting in front of the fire, told us that at -Sarrebruck and Landau the </span><em class="italics">landwehr</em><span> were furious; -that they were declaiming in all the taverns -against the crazy republicans, the cause of all the -battles since Sedan, and of the continuation of -the war; that it had been reported that a battle -had been fought at Coulmiers, near Orleans; that -the Germans were retreating in disorder, and that -the army of Frederick Charles was going to their -rescue; but that our young men were also learning -to join the army of the republic; and that the -</span><em class="italics">hauptmänner</em><span> had laid a fine of fifty francs a day -upon the parents of those who had left the -country, which had not prevented him, Jean Baptiste, -from going to the rescue of his country like his -comrades.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Scarcely had he ceased to speak when I ran -up the stairs, four steps at a time, to tell -Marie-Rose the good news. I found her on the -landing. She went down to the laundry, and did not -appear in the least astonished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes, father," she said, "I thought it -would end that way; every one must lend a -hand—all the men must go. Those Germans -are thieves; they will return routed and defeated."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her tranquility astonished me, for the idea -must have occurred to her, too, that Jean, an -able-bodied man, would not stay at home at such -a time, and that he might all at once go off -yonder in spite of his promises of marriage. So -I went to my room to think it over, while she -went down, and two minutes afterward I heard -Jean Merlin's step upon the stairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He came in quietly, his large felt hat on the -back of his head, and he said good-humouredly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good morning, Father Frederick; you are alone?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Jean; Marie-Rose has just gone to the -laundry, and the grandmother is still in bed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! very good," said he, putting his stick -behind the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I suspected something was coming, from his -look. He walked up and down, with bent head, -and, stopping suddenly, he said to me:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know what is going on near Orleans? -You know that the breaking up of the German -army has begun, and that all willing men are called -upon. What do you think of it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I flushed scarlet and answered, feeling rather -embarrassed:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, for those on the other side of the Loire -it is all very well; but we others would have a -long journey to take, and then the Prussians -would arrest us on the road; they guard all the -paths and highways."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pshaw!" said he; "they think the Prussians -more cunning than they really are. I would -wager that I could pass the Vosges under their -noses. Big Kern and Donadien have passed, -with a good many others."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then I knew that he wanted to go, that his -mind was made up to a certain extent, and that -gave me a shock; for if he once set off, Heaven -only knew when his marriage would take place; -the thought of Marie-Rose troubled me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very likely," I said; "but you must think -of the old people, Jean. What would your -mother, good old Margredel, say, if you -abandoned her at such a time?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My mother is a good Frenchwoman," he -answered. "We have talked it over, brigadier; -she consents."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My arms dropped at my sides; I did not -know what to reply; and only at the end of a -minute I managed to say:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And Marie-Rose! You do not think of -Marie-Rose! Yet you are betrothed. She is -your wife in the eyes of God!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Marie-Rose consents also," he said. "We -only want your consent now; say yes; all will be -settled. The last time I was here, while you were -down stairs smoking your pipe, I told Marie-Rose -all about it. I said to her that a forest guard -without a situation, an old soldier like me, ought -to be at the front; she understood and consented."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he told me that, George, it was too -much; I cried: "I do. It is not possible!" And, -opening the window, I called out:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Marie-Rose! Marie-Rose! Come here. Jean -has arrived."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was hanging out clothes in the shed, and -leaving at once her work, she came up stairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Marie-Rose," I said, "is it true that you -have consented to let Jean Merlin go to fight the -Germans at Orleans, behind Paris? Is it true? -Speak freely."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, pale as death, with flashing eyes, she said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. It is his duty. He must go. We do -not wish to be Prussians, and the others ought -not to fight alone to save us. He must be a man. -He must defend his country."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She said other things of the same kind that -warmed my blood and made me think:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a brave girl that is! No, I did not -know her before. She is the true descendant of -the old Burats. How the old people wake up -and speak through the mouths of their children! -They want us to defend the earth of the old -cemetery where their bones lie buried."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I rose, white as a sheet, with open arms. -"Come to my arms!" I said to them; "come to -my arms! You are right. Yes, it is the duty of -every Frenchman to go and fight. Ah! if I were -only ten years younger, I would go with you, -Jean; we would be two brothers in arms." And -we embraced each other all round.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxiv"><span class="bold large">XXIV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>I wept; I was proud of having so brave and -honest a daughter, whom I had not appreciated -till then; that made me lift up my head again. -The resolution of Jean and Marie-Rose appeared -natural to me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, as we heard the grandmother groping her -way from the other room, by leaning against the -wall, I made a sign to them to be silent, and, -when the poor old woman came in, I said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Grandmother, here is Jean, whom the chief -inspector is about to send to Nancy; he will be -there for some time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" said she. "There is no danger?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, grandmother, it is a commission for the -forest registers; it has nothing to do with the war."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So much the better!" said she. "How -many others are in danger! We ought to be -very happy to keep out of it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, sitting down, she began, as usual, to say -her prayers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What more can I tell you, George, about -those things that rend my heart when I think -about them?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Jean Merlin spent the whole day with us. -Marie-Rose cooked as good a dinner as she could -in our position; she put on her handsome cap -and her blue silk </span><em class="italics">fichu</em><span>, so as to be agreeable to -the eyes of the man she loved.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I seem to see her still, sitting at the table -near the grandmother, opposite her betrothed, and -smiling, as if it were a holiday. I seem to hear -Jean talking about the good news from Orleans, -about the happy chances of the war, which are -not always the same.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, after dinner, while the grandmother -dozes in her arm-chair, I see the two children -sitting beside each other, near the little window, -looking at each other, holding each other's hand, -and talking in a low voice, sometimes gaily, -sometimes sadly, as is the custom with lovers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for me, I walked up and down, smoking -and thinking of the future. I listened to the -hum of talk from the tavern, and, remembering -the danger of leaving the country, the penalties -established by the Germans against those who -wished to join our armies, I seemed to hear the -stamping of heavy boots and the rattle of sabres. -I went down the stairs, and, half opening the -door of the smoky room, I looked in, and then I -went up stairs again, a little reassured, saying to -myself that I ought not to be afraid, that more -difficult lines of the enemy had been crossed, and -that energetic men always got well through their -business. So passed all that afternoon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, at supper, as the time for his departure -drew near, a more terrible sadness and strange, -unknown fears seized upon me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go to bed," I said to the grandmother; "the -night has come."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she did not hear me, being a little deaf, -and she went on muttering her prayers, and we -looked at each other, exchanging our thoughts by -signs. At last, however, the poor old woman -rose, leaning her two hands on the arms of her -chair, and murmuring:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good night, my children. Come, Jean, till -I kiss you. Distrust the Prussians; they are -traitors! Do not run any risks; and may the -Lord be with you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They kissed each other; Jean seemed touched; -and when the door was closed, as the church clock -was striking eight, and when the little panes were -growing dark, he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Marie-Rose, the time has come. The moon -is rising; it is lighting already the path by which -I must reach the Donon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She flung herself into his arms and they held -each other clasped in a close embrace for a long -time, in silence, for down stairs they were talking -and laughing still; strangers might be watching -us, so we had to be prudent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You do not know, George, and I hope that -you never will know, what a father feels at such a -moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last they separated. Jean took his stick; -Marie-Rose, pale, but composed, said: "</span><em class="italics">Adieu</em><span>, -Jean!" And he, without answering, hurried out, -breathing as if something was choking him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I followed him. We descended the dark little -staircase, and on the threshold, where the moon, -covered with clouds, cast a feeble ray, we also -kissed each other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You do not want anything?" I said, for I -had put about fifty francs in my pocket.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said he, "I have all that I need."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We held each other's hands as if we could -never let go, and we looked at each other as if -we could read each other's hearts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, as I felt my lips quiver:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, father," said he, in a trembling voice, -"have courage; we are men!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he strode away. I looked at him vanishing -in the darkness, blessing him in my heart. I -thought I saw him turn and wave his hat at the -corner of the path, by the rock, but I am not sure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When I went in, Marie-Rose was seated on a -chair by the open window, her head buried in her -hands, weeping bitterly. The poor child had been -courageous up to the last minute, but then her -heart had melted into tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I said nothing to her, and, leaving the small -lamp on the table, I went into my room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These things happened in November, 1870. -But much greater sorrows were to come.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxv"><span class="bold large">XXV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>After that for a few days all was quiet. We -heard nothing more from Orleans. From time to -time the cannon of the city thundered, and was -answered by that of the enemy from Quatre Vents -and Werhem; then all was silent again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The weather had turned to rain; it poured in -torrents; the melting snow floated in blocks down -the course of the swollen river. People stayed -in-doors, cowering close to the fire; we thought -of the absent, of the war, of the marches and -counter-marches. The </span><em class="italics">gens-d'armes</em><span> of Bismark -Bohlen continued to make their rounds; we saw -them pass, their cloaks dripping with rain. The -silence and the uncertainty overwhelmed one. -Marie-Rose came and went without saying -anything; she even put on a smiling aspect when my -melancholy grew very great; but I could see from -her pallor what she was suffering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sometimes, too, the grandmother, when we -least expected it, would begin to talk about Jean, -asking for news of him. We would answer her -by some insignificant thing, and the short ideas of -old age, her weakened memory, prevented her -from asking more; she would be contented with -what we could tell her, and murmured, thoughtfully:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good! very good!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then the cares of life, the daily labour, -the care of the cattle and of the household, helped -us to keep up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Poor Calas, having no more work to do with -us, had turned smuggler between Phalsbourg and -the suburbs, risking his life every day to carry -a few pounds of tobacco or other such thing -to the glacis; it was rumoured at this time -that he had been killed by a German sentinel; -Ragot had followed him; we heard nothing more -of either of them. They have doubtless been -sleeping for a long time in the corner of a wood -or in some hole or other; they are very fortunate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One morning, in the large down-stairs room, -when we were alone, Father Ykel said to me:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Frederick, it is known that your son-in-law, -Jean Merlin, has gone to join our army. Take -care, the Prussians may give you trouble!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was all taken aback, and I answered, after a -moment:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, Father Ykel! Jean is gone to Dôsenheim -on business; he is trying to collect old -debts; at this time we need money."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pshaw!" said he, "you need not hide the -truth from me; I am an old friend of the Burats -and you. Merlin has not been here for several -days; he has crossed the mountain, and he did -right; he is a brave fellow; but there are plenty -of traitors about here; you have been denounced, -so be on your guard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This warning startled me, and, thinking that it -would be well to tell his mother, Margredel, and -his Uncle Daniel, after breakfast, without saying -anything to Marie-Rose, I took my stick and set -out for Felsberg.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It had stopped raining. The winter sun was -shining over the woods, and this spectacle, after -leaving our dark nook, seemed to revive me. As -the path at the hill passed near the forest house, -showing the old roof in the distance, I was touched -by it. All my recollections came back to me, and -it occurred to me to go and take a look at the -cottage, and to look at the inside by standing on -the bench by-the wall. It seemed as if it would -do me good to see once more the old room, -wherein the old people had died and where my -children had been born! My heart warmed at -the idea and I went swiftly on, till, reaching the -little bridge between the two willows, covered -with frost, I stood still in horror.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A German forest-guard, his green felt hat, with -its cock-feathers, set on one side, his long-stemmed -porcelain pipe in his great fair mustaches, and -with his arms crossed on the window-sill, was -smoking quietly, with a calm expression, happy -as in his own house. He was looking smilingly -at two chubby, fair-haired children, who were -playing before the door, and behind him, in the -shadow of the room, was leaning a woman, very -fat, with red cheeks, calling, gaily:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wilhelm, Karl, come in; here is your bread -and butter!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All my blood seemed to go through my veins -at the sight. How hard it is to see strangers in -the old people's house, where one has lived till -one's old age, from which one has been chased, -from no crime of one's own, only because others -are masters and turn one out of doors! It is terrible!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The guard raising his head suddenly, I was -afraid he would see me, so I hid myself. Yes, I -hid myself behind the willows, hastening to reach -the path farther on, and stooping like a malefactor. -I would have been ashamed if that man had -seen that the former master had found him in his -house, in his room, beside his hearth; I blushed -at the idea! I hid myself, for he might have -laughed at the Alsatian, who had been turned out -of doors; he might have enjoyed himself over it. -But from that day hatred, which I had never -known before, entered my heart; I hate those -Germans, who peacefully enjoy the fruit of our -toil, and consider themselves honest people. I -abhor them!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From there I went up through the heath to -Felsberg, feeling very sad and with hanging head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The poor village seemed as sad as I, among its -heaps of mud and dunghills; not a soul was to be -seen in the street, where requisitions of all kinds -had passed more than once. And at the old -schoolhouse, when I tried to lift the latch, I found -the door fastened. I listened; no noise nor murmur -of children was to be heard. I looked through -the window; the copies were hanging there still -by their strings, but the benches were empty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I called, "Father Daniel!" looking up at the -first-floor windows, for the garden gate was also -closed. Some moments later another door, that -of Margredel's house, built against the gable end, -opened; Uncle Daniel, an active little man, with -coarse woollen stockings, and a black cotton skull -cap on his head, appeared, saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who is there?" I turned round.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! it is Brigadier Frederick," said he. -"Come in!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you do not live yonder any more?" -said I.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, since day before yesterday the school -has been closed," he answered, sadly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And in the lower room of the old cottage, -near the little cast-iron stove, where the potatoes -were cooking in the pot, sending their steam up -to the ceiling, I saw Margredel, sitting on a low -stool.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxvi"><span class="bold large">XXVI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Margredel wore her usual open, kindly -expression, and even her usual smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" said she, "we have no longer our pretty -up-stairs room for our friends. The Germans are -hunting us out of every place; we will not know -where to go soon! However, sit down there on -the bench, Father Frederick, and, if you like, we -will eat some potatoes together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her good-humour and her courage in such a -wretched place made me still more indignant -against those who had plunged us all into -misfortune; my consternation kept me from speaking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are Marie-Rose and the grandmother well?" -asked Margredel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, thank God!" I answered; "but we are -very uneasy about Jean. The Prussians know -that he has gone; Father Ykel has warned me to -be on my guard, and I came to warn you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who cares for the Prussians?" said she, -shrugging her shoulders contemptuously. "Ah! they -are a bad race! Jean has crossed the -mountains long before this; if they had been able to -stop him we would have heard of it by this time; -they would have come to tell us, rubbing their -hands with delight; but he has got over; he is a -fine fellow!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She laughed with all her toothless mouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Those who have to fight him will not laugh. -He is safe with our volunteers! The guns and -cannon are thundering yonder!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The poor woman saw the bright side of everything, -as usual, and I thought:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a blessing it is to have a character like -that; how fortunate!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Uncle Daniel was walking about the room, saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is because of Jean's departure that the -bandits shut up my school. They had nothing to -reproach me with; they gave me no explanations; -they simply shut it up, that is all, and just gave -us time enough to carry away our furniture; -they looked at us crossly, crying, -'</span><em class="italics">Schwindt! schwindt!</em><span>'"[#]</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Quick! quick!</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Yes," cried Margredel, "they are sly hypocrites; -they strike you heavy blows without warning. -In the morning they smile at you, they sit -by the fire like good apostles, they kiss your -children with tears in their eyes; and then all at -once they change their tone, they collar you, and -turn you out of doors without mercy. Ah! those -good Germans; we know those honest people -now! But they will not always be so proud. -Wait a bit; Heaven is just! Our own people -will come back; Jean will be with them. You -will see, Father Frederick! We will go back to -the forest house; we will celebrate the wedding -there! That is all I can say. Don't you see, you -must trust in God. Now we are suffering for our -sins. But God will put everything to rights, -when we will have finished expiating our faults. -It cannot be otherwise. He uses the Prussians to -punish us. But their turn will come; we will go -to their country. They will see how agreeable it -is to be invaded, robbed, pillaged. Let them have -a care! Every dog has his day!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She spoke with so much confidence that it -infected me; I said to myself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What she says is very possible. Yes, justice -will be done, sooner or later! After all, we may -take Alsace again. Those Germans do not like -each other. We would only have to win one -great battle; the break-up would begin at once. -The Bavarians, the Hessians, the Würtembergers, -the Saxons, the Hanoverians, they would all go -home again. We would have it all our own way!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, in the meantime, we were in a very sad -position. Margredel said that they had enough -rye and potatoes to last till the end of the war, -and that, with a few </span><em class="italics">sous'</em><span> worth of salt, would be -sufficient for them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Master Daniel compressed his lips and looked -thoughtful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So, having seen how things were getting along -at Felsberg, I took leave of my old friends about -eleven o'clock, wishing them all the good things -in the world.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I avoided passing by the forest house, and I -descended the hill of Graufthal by the forest of fir -trees among the rocks, leaning on my stick in the -steepest places.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I remember meeting, about two-thirds of my -way down, old Roupp, an incorrigible thief, with -his faded little blouse, his cotton cravat rolled like -a rope round his lean neck, and his hatchet in his -hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was chopping away right and left, at everything -that suited him; huge branches, small fir -trees, everything went into his magnificent fagot, -which was lying across the path, and as I called to -him:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you are not afraid of the Prussian -guards, Father Roupp!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He began to laugh, with his chin turned up -and his scrap of felt hat on the back of his neck, -and wiping his nose on his sleeve.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! brigadier," said he, merrily, "those -people don't risk themselves alone in the forest! -Unless they come in regiments, with cannon in -front of them and uhlans on every side, and ten -against one, they always follow the high roads. -They are fellows that have a great respect for their -skins. Ha! ha! ha!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I laughed, too, for he only told the truth. But -a terrible surprise awaited me a little farther on, -at the descent of the rocks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When I left the wood and saw the little -thatched roofs at the foot of the hill, among the -heath, I first saw helmets glittering in the narrow -lane in front of Father Ykel's hut, and, looking -closer, I perceived a ragged crowd of men and -women gathered around them; Ykel, at the door -of the inn, was talking; Marie-Rose behind, in -front of the dark stable, and the grandmother at -her little window, with uplifted hands, as if cursing -them.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxvii"><span class="bold large">XXVII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Naturally, I began to run through the brushwood, -knowing that something serious was happening, -and descending the passage of the old -cloister, to make a short cut, I came out behind -the stable, at the moment that some one was -leaving it, dragging our two cows, tied by the horns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the station-master of Bockberg, named -Toubac, a short, thick-set man, with a black beard, -whose two tall, handsome daughters were said to -be the servants of the Prussian hauptmann[#] who -had lodged at his house since the beginning of the -siege.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Captain.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When I saw this rascal taking away my cattle, -I cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you doing, thief? Let my cows -alone, or I will break every bone in your body."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, at my cries, the sergeant and his squad -of men, with drawn bayonets, Ykel, Marie-Rose, -and even the grandmother, dragging herself along -and leaning against the wall, entered the passage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marie-Rose cried out to me:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Father, they want to take away our cows."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the grandmother said lamentingly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good Heavens! what will we have to live -on? Those cows are our only possession; they -are all that we have left!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sergeant, a tall, lean man, with a tight-fitting -uniform and with a sword at his side, hearing -Ykel say, "Here is the master! the cows -belong to him!" turned his head, as if on a pivot, -and looked at me over his shoulder; he wore -spectacles under his helmet, and had red mustaches -and a hooked nose; he looked like an owl, who -turns his head without moving his body; a very -bad face!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The crowd was blocking up the passage and -the sergeant cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Back! Clear the premises, corporal, and if -they resist, fire upon them!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The trampling of the sabots in the mud and -the cries of the grandmother, weeping and -sobbing, made this scene fearful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"These cows suit me," said the station-master -to the sergeant; "I will take them; we can go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do they belong to you?" said I, angrily, and -clutching my stick.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is no affair of mine," said he, in the tone -of a bandit, without heart and without honour. "I -have my choice of all the cows in the country to -replace those that the rascals from Phalsbourg -carried off from me at their last sortie. I choose -these. They are Swiss cows. I always liked -Swiss cows."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And who gave you the choice?" I cried. -"Who can give you other people's property?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The </span><em class="italics">hauptmann</em><span>, my friend, the </span><em class="italics">hauptmann</em><span>!" -said he, turning up the brim of his hat with an air -of importance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then several of the crowd began to laugh, saying, -"The </span><em class="italics">hauptmann</em><span> is a generous man; he pays -those well who give him pleasure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My indignation overcame me; and the sergeant -having ordered his squad of men to go on, -at the moment when the station-master, crying -"Hue!" was dragging my poor cows after him by -the horns, I was about to fall upon him like a wolf, -when Marie-Rose took hold of my hands and -whispered to me with a terrified look:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Father, do not stir, they would kill you. -Think of grandmother."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My cheeks were quivering, my teeth clenched, -red flames were dancing before my eyes; but the -thought of my daughter alone in the world, -abandoned at this terrible time, and of the grandmother -dying of hunger, gave me the strength to -keep down my rage, and I only cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go, scoundrel! Keep the property you have -stolen from me, but beware of ever meeting me -alone in the forest!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sergeant and his men pretended not to -hear; and he, the wretch, said, laughing:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"These cows, sergeant, are as good as mine; -after a long search we ended by finding two fine -animals."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had searched all the villages, visited all -the stables, and it was on us that the misfortune -fell. Marie-Rose, on seeing the poor beasts raised -by us at the forest house, could not restrain her -tears, and the grandmother, her hands clasped -above her gray head, cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! now—now we are lost! Now this is -the last stroke. My God, what have we done to -deserve such misery!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I supported her by the arm, asking her to go -in, but she said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Frederick, let me look once more at those -good creatures. Oh! poor Bellotte! Poor -Blanchette! I will never see you again!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a heartrending spectacle, and the people -dispersed quickly, turning away their heads, for -the sight of such iniquities is the most abominable -thing on earth. At last, however, we were obliged -to ascend to our wretched little rooms, and think -over our desolation; we had to think how we -should live, now that all our resources were taken -away. You know, George, what a cow is worth -to a peasant; with a cow in the stable one has -butter, milk, cheese, all the necessaries of life; to -possess a cow is to be in easy circumstances, two -are almost wealth. Up to the present time we -could sell the produce and make a few </span><em class="italics">sous</em><span> in -that way; now we would have to buy everything -at this time of dearth, while the enemy fattened -on our poverty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ah! what a terrible time it was! Those who -come after us will have no idea of it.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxviii"><span class="bold large">XXVIII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>All that we had left were five or six hundred -weight of hay and potatoes. Ykel, who sympathized -with all our griefs, said to me the same day:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look here, brigadier; what I predicted has -come to pass. The Germans hate you, because -you refused to serve under them, and because your -son-in-law has gone to join the republicans. If -they could drive you away, or even kill you, they -would do it; but they want still to give themselves -airs of justice and highmindedness; for that reason -they will strip you of everything to force you to -leave the country, as they say 'of your own free -will!' Take my advice, get rid of your fodder as -quickly as possible, for one of these fine mornings -they will come to requisition it, saying that those -who have no cows have no need of fodder. And, -above all, do not say that I gave this advice!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I knew that he was right; the next day my -hayloft was empty; Gaspard, Hulot, Diederick, -Jean Adam, big Starck, all the neighbours came -that evening and carried off our provision of hay -by bundles, and in this way I had a few francs in -reserve. Starck even gave up to me one of his -goats, which was of the greatest use to us; at least -the grandmother had a little milk, morning and -evening, that prolonged her life; but after so -many shocks the poor old woman was terribly -weakened, she trembled like a leaf, and no longer -left her bed, dreaming always, murmuring prayers, -talking of Burat, her husband; of Grandfather -Duchêne, of all the old people that returned to -her memory. Marie-Rose spun beside her, and -sat up till late at night, listening to her laboured -breathing and her complaints.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I sat alone in the side room, near the little -windows, almost blocked with snow, my legs -crossed, my unlighted pipe between my teeth, -thinking of all the acts of injustice, of all the -thefts, of those abominations that took place every -day; I began to lose confidence in the Almighty! -Yes, it is a sad thing to think of, but by dint of -suffering I said to myself that among men many -resemble the sheep, the geese, and the turkeys, -destined to feed the wolves, the foxes and the -hawks, who feast themselves at their expense. -And I pushed my indignation so far as to say to -myself that our holy religion had been invented -by malicious people to console fools for being -preyed upon by others. You see, George, to what -excesses injustice drives us. But the worst of all -was, that there was bad news from the interior. A -party of Germans came from Wechem to confiscate -my hay and found the loft empty; they were -indignant at it; they asked me what had become -of the fodder, and I told them that the -station-master's cows had eaten it. My goat happened -fortunately to be among those of Starck, or the -</span><em class="italics">bandits</em><span> would certainly have carried it off with -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This troop of brawlers, then going into the inn, -related how the republicans had been beaten; that -they had left thousands of corpses on the field of -battle; that they had been repulsed from Orleans, -and that they were still pursuing them; they -laughed and boasted among themselves. We did -not believe one quarter of what they said, but their -good-humoured air and their insolence in speaking -of our generals, forced us to think that it was not -all a lie.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As to Jean, no letters, no news! What had -become of him? This question, which I often -asked myself, troubled me. I was careful not to -speak of it to Marie-Rose; but I saw by her pallor -that the same thought followed her everywhere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was now December. For some time the -cannon of Phalsbourg had been silenced, it was -said that at night flames had been seen to rise -suddenly from the ramparts; we wondered what it -could be. We have since learned that they were -burning the powder and breaking up the artillery -material, and they were spiking the cannon, for -the provisions were running out and they were -about to be forced to open the gates.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This misfortune happened on the thirteenth of -December, after six bombardments and a hundred -and twenty days of siege. Half the city was in -ruins; at the bombardment of the fourteenth of -August alone eight thousand five hundred shells -had laid whole streets in ruins; and the poor -fellows picked up hastily in the suburbs at the time -of the terrible heat and sent into the city, with -nothing but the blouses on their backs and their -shoes on their feet, after having passed that -fearful winter on the ramparts, were carried off again -as prisoners of war, some to Rastadt, others to -Prussia, through the snow. On hearing this news -the consternation became universal. As long as -the cannon of Phalsbourg thundered we had kept -up our hopes. We said from time to time, -"France still speaks!" And that made us lift up -our heads again; but then the silence told us that -the Germans were really our masters, and that we -must make ourselves small so as not to draw -down their anger upon us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From that day, George, our sadness knew no -bounds. To add to our misfortune, the -grandmother grew much worse. One morning when I -entered her room, Marie-Rose said to me in a low -voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Father, grandmother is very sick. She does -not sleep any more. She seems suffocating! You -ought to go for the doctor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are right, my daughter," said I; "perhaps -we have waited too long as it is."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, in spite of the pain of seeing our old -fortress in the enemy's hands, I determined to go -to Phalsbourg in search of a physician. That day -the country was nothing but mud and clouds. I -went straight forward, with drooping head, walking -on the slope at the edge of the road, my mind -a blank, from having thought for so many months -of our abasement, and so downcast that I would -have given my life for nothing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the plateau of Bugelberg, just outside of -the forest, seeing before me about three leagues -distant the little city looking as if crushed under -the gloomy sky, its burned houses, its ruined -church, its ramparts levelled with the ground, I -stopped for a moment, leaning on my stick and -recalling bygone days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How many times during the past twenty-five -years I had gone there on Sundays and holidays -with my poor wife, Catherine, and my daughter, -either to go to mass, or to see the booths of the -fair, or to shake hands with some old comrades, -laughing, happy, thinking that everything would -continue that way till the end of our days! And -all the vanished joys, the old friends, who, in their -little gardens at the foot of the glacis, called to us -to come to pick currants or to gather a bunch of -flowers, seemed to return. How many recollections -returned to me! I could not remember -them all, and I cried to myself:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! how distant those things are! Oh! who -would ever have believed that this -misfortune would come upon us, that we, Frenchmen -and Alsatians, should be obliged to bow our -necks to the Prussian yoke!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My sight grew dim, and I set out again on my -journey, murmuring in my soul the consolation of -all the wretched:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bah! life is short. Soon, Frederick, all will -be forgotten. So take courage, you have not -much longer to suffer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I seemed also to hear the trumpet of our joyous -soldiers; but at the gate, a squad of Germans, -in big boots, and their sentinel, with bow-legs, his -gun on his shoulder, his helmet on the back of -his neck, and, walking to and fro in front of the -guard-house, recalled to me our position. My -old comrade, Thomé, city overseer and collector -of the city duties, beckoned to me to come in. -We talked over our misfortunes; and, seeing that -I was looking at a company of Prussians crossing -the bridge, who, holding themselves erect, were -keeping step, he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not look at them, Frederick, they are -proud when one looks at them; they think that -we are admiring them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then I turned away my eyes, and having -rested for a few minutes I entered the city.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxix"><span class="bold large">XXIX</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Do I need to describe to you now the desolation -of that poor Phalsbourg, formerly so neat, -the little houses so well built, the large parade -ground, so gay on review day? Must I tell you -of the houses fallen over on each other, the gables -overturned, the chimneys in the air amid the -ruins; and of the taverns filled with Germans, -eating, drinking and laughing, while we, with long -faces, looking scared, wretched and ragged after -all these disasters, saw these intruders enjoying -themselves with their big pay taken out of our -pockets? No, only at the thought of it, my heart -sickens; it is a thousand times worse than all that -people relate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As I reached the corner of the parade ground, -opposite the church tower, which was still standing, -with its cracked bells and its virgin with uplifted -arms, a harsh voice called from the state-house:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Heraus</em><span>!"[#]</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Get out.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was the sergeant of the station who was -ordering his men to go out; the patrolling officer -was coming, the others hastened from the guard-house -and formed the ranks; it was noon. I had -halted in consternation before the Café Vacheron. -A crowd of poor people, homeless, without work -and without food, were walking backward and -forward, shivering with their hands in their pockets -up to the elbows; and I, knowing from what -Thomé had said that the military hospital and the -college were crowded with the sick, asked myself -if I could find a doctor to visit at Graufthal a -poor old woman at the point of death. I was -overwhelmed with sadness and doubt. I did not -know to whom to address myself or what to do, -when an old friend of the forest house, Jacob -Bause, the first trout fisher of the valley, began to -call behind me:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hallo! it is Father Frederick? Then you -are still in the land of the living?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shook hands and seemed so glad to see me -that I was touched by it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said I, "we have escaped, thank God. -When one meets people now one almost thinks -that they have been resuscitated. Unfortunately -grandmother is very ill and I do not know -where to find a doctor in the midst of this confusion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He advised me to go to Dr. Simperlin, who -lived on the first floor of the Café Vacheron, -saying that he was a good and learned man, and a -true Frenchman, who would not refuse to -accompany me, in spite of the length of the road and -the work he had in the town, at the time of this -extraordinary press of business. So I went up -stairs; and Dr. Simperlin, who was just sitting -down to dinner, promised to come as soon as he -had finished his repast. Then, feeling a little -more easy, I went down stairs into the large -coffee room, to take a crust of bread and a glass -of wine, while waiting for him. The room was -filled with </span><em class="italics">landwehr</em><span>; fat citizens in uniform, -brewers, architects, farmers, bankers, and -hotel-keepers, come to take possession of the country -under the command of the Prussian chiefs, who -made them march like puppets.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All these people had their pockets full of -money, and to forget the unpleasantness of their -discipline they ate as many sausages with -sauerkraut, and as much ham and salad with cervelats -as our veterans used formerly to drink glasses of -brandy. Some drank beer, others champagne or -burgundy, each according to their means, of -course without offering any to their comrades—that -is understood; they all ate with two hands, -their mouths open to the ears, and their noses in -their plates; and all that I say to you is, that as -this muddy, rainy weather prevented us from -opening the windows, one had sometimes to go -outside in order to breathe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I seated myself in one corner with my mug of -beer, looking at the tobacco smoke curling round -the ceiling, and the servants bringing in what was -wanted, thinking of the sick grandmother, of the -ruins that I had just seen, listening to the -Germans, whom I did not understand, for they spoke -an entirely different tongue from that of Alsace; -and at the other end of the room some Phalsbourgers -were talking of an assistance bureau that -was being organized at the State House, of a soup -kitchen that they wished to establish in the old -cavalry barracks, for the poor; of the indemnities -promised by the Prussians, and on which they -counted but little.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The time passed slowly. I had ended by not -listening at all, thinking of my own misery, when -a louder, bolder voice drew me from my reflections; -I looked: it was Toubac, the station-master -of Bockberg, who was interrupting the conversation -of the Phalsbourgers, who cried, audaciously -thumping the table with his big fist:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is all very well for you, city people, to talk -now about the miseries of war. You were behind -your ramparts, and when the shells came you ran -into your casemates. No one could take anything -from you. Those whose houses are burned will -receive larger indemnities than they are worth; -the old, worm-eaten furniture will be replaced by -new, and more than one whose tongue was -hanging before the campaign can rub his hands and -stick out his stomach, saying: 'The war has made -me a solid citizen; I have paid my debts and I -pass for a famous warrior because my cellar was -bullet proof. I will devote myself to staying in -my country to buy cheap the goods of those who -are going away with the money from my indemnities; -I will sacrifice myself to the end as I have -done from the beginning.' Yes, that kind of war -is agreeable; behind strong walls all goes well. -While we poor peasants, we were obliged to feed -the enemies, to give them hay, straw, barley, oats, -wheat, and even our cattle, do you hear?—our last -resource. They took my two cows, and now who -shall I ask to repay me for them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was too much. When he said that, the -effrontery of the rascal made me so indignant that -I could not help calling to him from my place:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! wicked scoundrel, do you dare to boast -of your sufferings and of your noble conduct -during our misfortunes? Speak of your sacrifices and -the good example that your daughters set. Tell -those gentlemen how, having searched the country -with a squad of Germans, who gave you your -choice among all the animals of the mountains -and the plain, to replace your wretched beasts, -after having stolen, by this means, my two beautiful -Swiss cows, you are not yet satisfied. You -dare to complain, and to undervalue honest folk -who have done their duty?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As I spoke, thinking that this rascal was the -cause of the grandmother's illness, I grew more -and more angry; I would have restrained myself, -but it was too much for me, and all at once, -seizing my stick with both hands, I rushed upon him -to knock him down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fortunately, Fixeri, the baker, who was sitting -beside this rascal, seeing my uplifted stick, parried -the blow with his chair, saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Father Frederick, what are you thinking about?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This had a terrible effect; all the room was in -a commotion and trying to separate us. He, the -thief, finding himself behind the others, shook his -fist at me and cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Old rascal! I will make you pay for that! -The Germans would have nothing to do with you. -The Oberförster turned you out. You would -have liked to have served under them, but they -knew you; they slammed the door in your face. -That annoys you. You insult honest people; but -look out, you will hear from me soon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These astounding lies made me still more furious; -it took five or six men to hold me, so as to -prevent me from getting at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I should have ended by turning everything -upside down, if the </span><em class="italics">landwehr</em><span> had not called a -party of watchmen who were passing along the -road. Then, hearing the butt ends of the muskets -as they were grounded at the door, and seeing the -helmets in front of the window, I sat down again, -and everything calmed down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The corporal came in; Mme. Vacheron made -him take a glass of wine at the bar, and as the -noise had ceased, after wiping his mustaches, he -went out, making the military salute. But -Toubac and I looked at each other with sparkling eyes -and quivering lips. He knew, the wretch, that -now his shame would be discovered all through -the city, and that made him beside himself with rage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for me, I thought, "Only manage to be in -my way going to Biechelberg; I will pay you off -for all that you have done; the poor grandmother -will be avenged."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He, doubtless, had the same thoughts, for he -looked at me sideways, with his rascally smile. I -was very glad when Dr. Simperlin appeared on -the threshold of the room, making me a sign to -follow him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I left at once, after having paid for my glass -of wine, and we set out for Graufthal.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxx"><span class="bold large">XXX</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>You know, George, how much bad weather -adds to one's melancholy. It was sleeting, the -great ruts full of water were ruffled by the wind. -Dr. Simperlin and I walked for a long time in -silence, one behind the other, taking care to avoid -the puddles in which one could sink up to his knees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Farther on, after having passed the Biechelberg, -on the firmer ground of the forest, I told -the doctor about the offers that the Oberförster -had made to us, and the refusal of all our guards -except Jacob Hepp; of our leaving the forest -house, and of our little establishment at Ykel's, in -a cold corner of the wretched inn, under the rocks, -where the grandmother had not ceased to cough -for six weeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He listened to me with bent head, and said at -the end that it was very hard to leave one's home, -one's fields, one's meadows, and the trees that one -has planted; but that one should never draw back -before one's duty; and that he also was about to -leave the country with his wife and children, -abandoning his practice, the fruit of his labour for -many years, so as not to become one of the herd -of King William.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Talking thus, about three o'clock, we reached -the wretched tavern of Graufthal. We ascended -the little staircase. Marie-Rose had heard us; she -was at the door, and hastened to offer a chair to -Dr. Simperlin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor looked at the black beams of the -ceiling, the narrow windows, the little stove, and -said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is very small and very dark for people -accustomed to the open air."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was thinking of our pretty house in the -valley, with its large, shining windows, its white -walls. Ah! the times had changed sadly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last, having rested for a few minutes, to get -his breath, he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us go see the invalid."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We entered the little side room together. The -day was declining; we had to light the lamp, and -the doctor, leaning over the bed, looked at the -poor old woman, saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, grandmother Anne, I was passing by -Graufthal, and Father Frederick beckoned me in; -he told me that you were not very well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the grandmother, entirely aroused, recognised -him and answered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! it is you, M. Simperlin. Yes, yes; I -have suffered, and I suffer still. God grant it -will soon be over!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was so yellow, so wrinkled and so thin, -that one thought when one looked at her:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good heavens, how can our poor lady continue -to exist in such a condition!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And her hair, formerly gray, now white as -snow, her hollow cheeks, her eyes glittering, and -a forehead all shrivelled with wrinkles, made her, -so to speak, unrecognisable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The doctor questioned her; she answered very -well to all his questions. He listened with his ear -at her chest, and then at her back, while I held her -up. At last he said, smiling:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, well, grandmother, we are not yet in -danger. This bad cold will pass away with the -winter; only you must keep yourself warm, and -not give way to sad thoughts. You will soon -return to the forest house; all this cannot last."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes," said she, looking at us. "I hope -that all will come right; but I am very old."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bah! when one has kept up like you, is one -old? All this has been caused by a draught; -you must take care of draughts, Mlle. Marie-Rose. -Come, keep up your courage, grandmother."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So said the doctor; the grandmother seemed a -little reassured.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We left the room, and outside, when I was -questioning him and my daughter was listening, -Dr. Simperlin asked me:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall I speak before Mlle. Marie-Rose?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," I answered, "for my poor daughter -takes care of the invalid, and she ought to know -all; if the illness is serious, if we are to lose the -last creature who loves us and whom we love—well, -it is always best to know it beforehand, than -to be struck by the misfortune without having -been warned."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," said he, "the poor woman is ill not -only because of her old age, but principally -because of the grief which is sapping her constitution. -She has something preying upon her mind, -and it is that which makes her cough. Take care -not to grieve her; hide your troubles from her. -Always look gay before her. Tell her that you -have strong hopes. If she looks at you, smile -at her. If she is uneasy, tell her it is nothing. -Let no one come in, for fear they should tell -her bad news; that is the best remedy I can give -you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While he spoke, Marie-Rose, who was very -much alarmed, was coughing behind her hand, with -a little hacking cough; he interrupted himself, and, -looking at her, he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you coughed like that for any length -of time, Mlle. Marie-Rose?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For some time," she answered, flushing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he took her arm and felt her pulse, saying -as he did so:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must be careful and look after yourself, -too; this place is not healthy. Have you fever at -nights?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, so much the better; but you must take -care of yourself; you must think as little as -possible of sad things."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having said that, he took his hat from my bed -and his cane from the corner, and said to me, as -we were descending the stairs together:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must come to the city to-morrow, and -you will find a little bottle at the shop of Reeb, -the apothecary; you must give three drops of it, -in a glass of water, morning and evening, to the -grandmother; it is to calm that suffocating feeling; -and look after your daughter, too; she is very -much changed. When I remember Marie-Rose, as -fresh and as healthy as she was, six months ago, it -makes me uneasy. Take care of her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gracious Heavens!" said I to myself, in despair; -"take care of her! Yes, yes, if I could give -her my own existence; but how take care of -people who are overwhelmed by fears, grief, and -regrets?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, thinking of it, I could have cried like a -child. M. Simperlin saw it, and, on the threshold, -shaking my hand, he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We, too, are very sick; is it not so, Father -Frederick? Yes, terribly sick. Our hearts are -breaking; each thought kills us; but we are men; -we must have courage enough for everybody."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I wanted to accompany him at least to the end -of the valley, for the night had come; but he -refused, saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know the way. Go up stairs, Father Frederick, -and be calm before your mother and your -daughter; it is necessary."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He then went away and I returned to our -apartments.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxxi"><span class="bold large">XXXI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Two or three days passed away. I had gone -to the town to get the potion that the doctor had -ordered from Reeb, the apothecary; the grandmother -grew calmer; she coughed less; we talked -to her only of peace, tranquility, and the return of -Jean Merlin, and the poor woman was slowly -recovering; when, one morning, two Prussian -</span><em class="italics">gens-d'armes</em><span> stopped at the inn; as those people -usually passed on without halting, it surprised me, -and, a few moments later, Father Ykel's daughter -came to tell me to go down stairs, that some one -was asking for me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When I went down, I found those two tall fellows, -with jack-boots, standing in the middle of -the room; their helmets almost touched the -ceiling. They asked me if they were speaking to the -person known as Frederick, formerly the brigadier -forester of Tömenthal. I answered in the affirmative; -and one of them, taking off his big gloves, -in order to fumble in his knapsack, gave me a -letter, which I read at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was an order from the commander of Phalsbourg -to leave the country within twenty-four hours!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You understand, George, what an impression -that made on me; I turned pale and asked what -could have drawn upon me so terrible a sentence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is no affair of ours," answered one of -the </span><em class="italics">gens-d'armes</em><span>. "Try to obey, or we will have -to take other measures."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thereupon they mounted their horses again -and rode off; and Father Ykel, alone with me, -seeing me cast down and overwhelmed by such an -abomination, not knowing himself what to say, or -to think, cried out:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In the name of Heaven, Frederick, what -have you been doing? You are not a man of -any importance, and, in our little village, I should -have thought they would have forgotten you -long ago!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I made no reply; I remembered nothing; I -thought only of the grief of my daughter and of -the poor old grandmother when they learned of -this new misfortune.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, at last I remembered my imprudent -words at the Café Vacheron, the day of my -dispute with Toubac; and Father Ykel at the first -word told me that it all came from that; that -Toubac had certainly denounced me; that there was -only one thing left for me to do, and that was to -go at once to the commander and beg him to grant -me a little time, in consideration of the -grandmother, over eighty years of age, seriously ill, and -who would certainly die on the road. He also -sent for the schoolmaster, and gave me, as Mayor -of the parish, a regular attestation concerning my -good qualities, my excellent antecedents, the -unhappy position of our family; in short, he said all -the most touching and the truest things that could -be said on such an occasion. He also recommended -me to go to M. Simperlin, too, and get a -certificate of illness, to confirm his attestation, -thinking that thus the commander would be -touched and would wait till the poor old woman -was well enough to travel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In my trouble, seeing nothing else to do, I set -out. Marie-Rose knew nothing of it, nor the -grandmother, either; I had not the courage to -announce the blow that was threatening us. To -set out alone, to fly far away from those savages, -who coolly plunged us into all sorts of miseries, -would have been nothing to me; but the others! -Ah! I dared not think of it!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before noon I was at Phalsbourg, in a frightful -state of wretchedness; all the misfortunes that -crushed us rose before my eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I saw the doctor, who declared simply in his -certificate that the invalid, who was old, weak, -and, moreover, entirely without resources, could -not stand a journey, even of two hours, without -dying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There," said he, giving me the paper, "that is -the exact truth. I might add that your departure -will kill her also, but that would be nothing to the -commander; if this does not touch his heart, the -rest would be useless also."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I went then to the commander's quarters, which -were in the old government house, in the Rue du -College. The humiliation of addressing supplications -to rascals whom I detested was not the least -of my sorrows; that I, an old French forester, an -old servant of the state, gray-headed and on the -point of retiring on a pension, should stoop to -implore compassion from enemies as hard-hearted, as -proud of their victories, gained by sheer force of -numbers, as they were! However, for the grandmother, -for the widow of old Burat, I could bear -everything.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A tall rogue, in uniform, and with red whiskers, -made me wait a long time in the vestibule; they -were at breakfast, and only about one o'clock was -I allowed to go up stairs. Up there another -sentinel stopped me, and then, having received -permission to enter a rather large room, opening on -the garden of the Arsenal, I knocked at the -commander's door, who told me to come in. I saw a -large, red-faced man, who was walking to and fro, -smoothing down the sleeves of his uniform and -puffing out his cheeks in an ill-natured way. I -told him humbly of my position, and gave him -my certificates, which he did not even take the -trouble to read, but flung them on the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That has nothing at all to do with it," said -he sharply; "you are described as a dangerous -person, a determined enemy of the Germans. You -prevented your men from entering our service; -your son-in-law has gone to join the bandits of -Gambetta. You boasted openly in a restaurant -of having refused the offers of the Oberförster of -Zornstadt; that is four times more than is -necessary to deserve being turned out of doors."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I spoke of the grandmother's condition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well! leave her in her bed," said he; "the -order of the </span><em class="italics">Kreissdirector</em><span> is for you alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, without listening to me any longer, he -went into a side room, calling a servant, and closed -the door behind him. I went down stairs again, -feeling utterly crushed; my last hope was gone; I -had no other resource; I had to leave; I had to -announce this bad news to my daughter, to the -grandmother! I knew what would be the result -of it; and, with hanging head, I went through -that German doorway, the bridge, the sentinels, -without seeing anything. On the glacis, at -Biechelberg, all along the road through the woods -and through the valley, I was as if mad with -despair; I talked to myself, I cried out, looking -at the trees and raising my hand toward heaven.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now the curse is upon us! Now pity, the -disgrace of crime, the remorse of conscience are -abolished! Nothing is left now but strength. -Let them exterminate us, let them cut our -throats! Let the rascals strangle the old woman -in her bed; let them hang my daughter before -the door, and as for me, let them chop me into -pieces! That would be better. That would be -less barbarous than to tear us from each other's -arms; to force the son to abandon his mother on -her death-bed!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And I continued on my road, stumbling along. -The forests, the ravines, the rocks seemed to me -full of those old brigands, of those Pandoras of -whom I had heard tell in my childhood; I thought -I heard them singing round their fires, as they -shared the plunder; all the old miseries of the -time before the great revolution came back to -me. The distant trumpet of the Prussians in -the city that sounded its three wild notes to the -echoes, seemed to me to arouse those old villains -who had been reduced to dust centuries before.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxxii"><span class="bold large">XXXII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>All at once the sight of the cottages of -Graufthal aroused me from my dreams; I shivered -at the thought that the moment was come to -speak, to tell my daughter and the grandmother -that I was banished, driven away from the -country. It seemed to me like a sentence of death -that I myself was about to pronounce against -those whom I loved best in the world. I slackened -my steps so as not to arrive too quickly, -when, raising my eyes, after having passed the -first houses, I saw Marie-Rose waiting in the dark -little entry of the inn; my first glance at her told -me that she knew all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, father?" said she in a low voice, as she -stood on the threshold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," I answered, trying to be calm, "I -must go. But you two can stay—they have -granted you permission to stay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the same time I heard the grandmother -moaning up stairs in her bed. Katel, that morning, -directly after I set out, had gone up stairs to -tell my daughter the bad news; the poor old -woman had heard all. The news had already -spread through the village; the people round us -were listening; and, seeing that the blow had -fallen, I told all who wished to hear how the -Prussian commander had received me. The -crowd of neighbours listened to me without a -word; all were afraid of sharing my fate. The -grandmother had heard my voice, and she called me:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Frederick! Frederick!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When I heard her voice, a cold perspiration -broke out on my face. I went up stairs, answering:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here I am, grandmother, here I am! Don't -cry so! It will not last long. I will come back! -Now they distrust me. They are wrong, grandmother; -but the others are the strongest!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" she cried, "you are going away, -Frederick—you are going away like poor Jean. I -knew that he had gone away to fight. I knew -all. I will never see either of you again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not, grandmother, why not? In a few -weeks I will be allowed to come back, and Jean -will come back, too, after the war!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will never see you again!" she cried.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And her sobs grew louder. The people, curious, -and even cruel in their curiosity, had come -up stairs one after another; our three little rooms -were filled with them; they held their breath, they -had left their sabots at the foot of the stairs; they -wanted to see and hear everything; but then, -seeing the poor old woman in the shadow of her -great gray curtains, sobbing and holding out her -arms to me, almost all hastened to go down stairs -again and to return to their homes. No one was -left but big Starck, Father Ykel, and his daughter, -Katel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Grandmother Anne," said Father Ykel, "don't -get such ideas into your head. Frederick is right. -You must be reasonable. When peace is declared -all will be right again. You are eighty-three years -old and I am nearly seventy. What does that -matter? I hope to see again Jean, Father -Frederick, and all those who are gone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" said she, "I have suffered too much; -now it is all over!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And till night she did nothing but cry. -Marie-Rose, always courageous, opened the -cupboards and packed up my bundle, for I had no -time to lose; the next day I must be on my road. -She took out my clothes and my best shirts and -put them on the table, asking me, in a low voice, -while the grandmother continued to cry:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will take this, father? And that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I answered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do as you think best, my daughter. I have -no sense left to think of anything with. Only -put my uniform in the bundle—that is the -principal thing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ykel, knowing that we were pressed for time, -told us not to worry about the supper, that we -should sup with them. We accepted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That evening, George, we spoke little at table. -Katel was up stairs with the grandmother. And -when night came, as my bundle was packed, we -went to bed early.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You may readily believe that I slept but little. -The moans of the grandmother, and then my -reflections, the uncertainty as to my destination, -the small amount of money that I could take -with me, for I had to leave enough to live on at -home—all these things kept me awake in spite of -my fatigue and the grief that was weighing me -down. And all through that long night I asked -myself where I should go, what I should do, what -road I should take, to whom I should address -myself in order to make my living? Turning these -ideas over a hundred times in my head, I at last -remembered my former chief of the guards, -M. d'Arence, one of the best men I had ever known, -who had always liked me, and even protected me -during the time that I was under his orders as a -simple guard many years before; I remembered -that people said that he had retired to Saint Dié, -and I hoped, if I had the good luck to find him -yet alive, that he would receive me well and -would help me a little in my misfortune. This -idea occurred to me towards morning; I thought -it a good one, and I fell asleep for an hour or two. -But at daybreak I was up. The terrible moment -was approaching; I was scarcely out of bed, the -grandmother heard me and called to me. Marie-Rose -was also up; she had prepared our farewell -breakfast; Ykel had sent up a bottle of wine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having dressed myself, I went into the grandmother's -room, trying to keep up my spirits, but -knowing that I would never see her again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She seemed calmer, and, calling me to her, she -threw her arms round my neck, saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My son, for you have been my son—a good -son to me—my son Frederick, I bless you! I -wish you all the happiness that you deserve. -Ah! wishes are not worth much, nor the blessings of -poor people either. Without that, dear Frederick, -you would not have been so unhappy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She wept, and I could not restrain my tears. -Marie-Rose, standing at the foot of the bed, -sobbed silently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And as the grandmother still held me, I said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See here, grandmother, your benediction and -your kind words do me as much good as if you -could give me all the riches of the world; it is -my consolation to think that I will see you soon -again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps we will meet again in heaven," said -she; "but here on this earth I must say farewell. -Farewell, Frederick, farewell."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She held me tightly embraced, kissing me with -her trembling lips; and then, having released me -and turned away her head, she held my hand for -a minute, and, beginning to sob again, she repeated, -in a low voice: "Farewell!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I left the room; my strength failed me. In -the side room I took a glass of wine and I put -a piece of bread in my pocket; Marie-Rose was -with me; I beckoned her to come down stairs -softly, so that the grandmother should not hear -our sobs at the moment of parting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We went silently down stairs into the large -lower room, where Father Ykel awaited us with -some other friends; Starck, who had helped us -to move from the forest house, Hulot, and some -other good people.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We bade each other farewell; then in the entry -I kissed Marie-Rose, as an unhappy father kisses -his child, and in that kiss I wished her everything -that a man can wish to the being whom he loves -better than his life, and whom he esteems as one -esteems virtue, courage, and goodness. And then, -with my bundle slung on the end of a stick, I -went away without turning my head.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxxiii"><span class="bold large">XXXIII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The path of exile is long, George, and the -first steps that one takes are painful. He who -said that we do not drag with us our country -fastened to the soles of our shoes, was learned in -human suffering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And when you leave behind you your child; -when you seem to hear as you walk along the -grandmother's voice saying farewell; when from -the top of the mountain that sheltered you from -the wind and covered you with its shadow, at the -last turn of the path, before the descent, you turn -and look at your valley, your cottage, your orchard, -thinking, "You will never see them more!" -then, George, it seems as if the earth holds you -back, as if the trees were extending their arms -towards you, as if the child was weeping in the -distance, as if the grandmother was calling you -back in the name of God!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes, I felt all that on the hill of Berlingen, -and I shudder yet when I think of it. And to -think that worms like us dare to inflict such -sufferings on their fellow-creatures! May the Almighty -have mercy upon them, for the hour of justice -will surely come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I tore myself away and continued my journey. -I went away; I descended the hill with -bent back, and the dear country gradually -vanished into the distance. Oh! how I suffered, and -how many distant thoughts came back to me! -The forests, the firs, the old saw-mills passed away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was approaching Schönbourg, and I began to -descend the second hill, lost in my reveries and -my despair, when all at once a man with his gun -slung over his shoulder emerged from the forest -about a hundred yards in front of me, looking -towards me. This sight awoke me from my sad -thoughts; I raised my eyes. It was Hepp, the old -brigadier, whom the Prussians had won over, and -who was the only man among us that had entered -their service.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hillo!" said he, in amazement, "it is you, -Father Frederick!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," I answered, "it is I."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But where are you going so early in the -morning with your bundle on your shoulder?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am going where God wills. The Germans -have turned me out. I am going to earn my -living elsewhere."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned very pale. I had stopped for a -minute to breathe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How!" said he, "they are turning you out -of doors at your age—you, an old forester, an -honest man, who never did harm to any one?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; they do not want me in this country -any longer. They have given me twenty-four -hours in which to quit old Alsace, and I am on -my way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And Marie-Rose and the grandmother?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are at Graufthal, at Ykel's. The grandmother -is dying. The others will bury her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hepp, with drooping head and eyes cast down, -lifted up his hands, saying: "What a pity! what -a pity!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I made no reply, and wiped my face, which -was covered with perspiration. After a moment's -pause, without looking at me, he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! if I had been alone with my wife! But -I have six children. I am their father. I could -not let them die of hunger. You had a little -money laid aside. I had not a </span><em class="italics">sou</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, seeing this man with a good situation—for -he was a German brigadier forester—seeing -this man making excuses to a poor, wretched exile -like me, I did not know any more than he did -what to answer, and I said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is the way of the world. Every one -has his burden to bear. Well! well! good-bye till -I see you again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He wanted to shake hands with me, but I -looked another way, and continued my journey, -thinking:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That man, Frederick, is even more unhappy -than you; his grief is terrible; he has sold his -conscience to the Prussians for a piece of black -bread; at least you can look every one in the face; -you can say, in spite of your misery, 'I am an -honest man,' and he does not dare to look at an -old comrade; he blushes, he hangs his head. The -others have profited by the fact of his having six -children to buy him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, thinking of that, I grew a little more -courageous, knowing that I had done well, in spite -of everything, and that in Hepp's place I would -have hanged myself long ago in some corner of -the wood. That comforted me a little. What -would you have? One is always glad to have -done the best thing, even when one had nothing -to choose between but the greatest of misfortunes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then those thoughts vanished, too; others took -their place. I must tell you that in all the villages, -and even in the smallest hamlets I passed through, -the poor people, seeing me travelling at my age, -with my bundle slung over my shoulder, received -me kindly; they knew that I was one of those -who were being sent away from the country -because they loved France; the women standing -before their doors with their children in their arms -said to me, with emotion, "God guide you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the little taverns, where I halted from time -to time to recruit my strength, at Lutzelbourg, at -Dabo, at Viche, they would not receive any money -from me. As soon as I had said, "I am an old -brigadier forester; the Germans have exiled me -because I would not enter their service," I had the -respect of everybody.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Naturally, also, I did not accept the kind offers -they made me; I paid my way, for at this time of -forced requisitions no one had anything too much.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The whole country sympathized with the -republic, and the nearer I got towards the Vosges -the more they spoke of Garibaldi, of Gambetta, -of Chanzy, of Faidherbe; but also the requisitions -were larger and the villages overrun with </span><em class="italics">landwehr</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At Schirmeck, where I arrived the same day, -about eight o'clock in the evening, I saw, on -entering the inn, a </span><em class="italics">Feldwebel</em><span>, a schoolmaster, and -a commissioner, who were drinking and smoking -among a quantity of their people, who were seated -at tables like themselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They all turned round and stared at me, while -I asked a lodging for the night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The commissioner ordered me to show him -my papers; he examined them minutely, the -signatures and the stamps; then he said to me:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are all right at present, but by daybreak -to-morrow you must be on your way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After that the innkeeper ventured to serve me -with food and drink; and, as the inn was filled -with the German officials, they took me to the -barn, where I fell asleep on a heap of straw. It -was freezing outside, but the barn was near the -stable; it was warm there; I slept well because of -my fatigue. Slumber, George, is the consolation -of the wretched; if I had to speak of the -goodness of God, I would say that every day He calls -us to Him for a few hours to make us forget our -misfortunes.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxxiv"><span class="bold large">XXXIV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The next day a sort of calm had replaced my -dejection; I went away more resolute, hastening -across the plain to reach Rothau. I began to -think of Jean Merlin. Perhaps he had followed -the same route as I, for it was the shortest. How -glad I would be if I could hear some news of him -on my way, to send to Marie-Rose and the -grandmother; what a consolation it would be in our -misfortune! But I must not hope for it, so many -others during the last three months had climbed -from Rothau to Provenchères, French and Germans, -strangers whom no one could have remembered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nevertheless, I thought of it. And as I -walked swiftly along I admired the beautiful -forests of this mountainous country, the immense -fir trees that bordered the road and recalled to -me those of Falberg, near Saverne. The sight of -them touched me; it was like old comrades who -escort you for several hours on your journey -before saying a last farewell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At last the rapid motion, the fresh, bracing air -of the mountains, the kind welcome from the good -people, the hope of finding M. d'Arence, my old -chief of the guard, and, above all, the wish not to -let myself be discouraged, when my poor daughter -and the grandmother still had need of me, all that -revived me, and I said to myself at each step I took:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Courage, Frederick! The French are not -yet all dead; perhaps after a while the happy days -will return. Those who despair are lost; the poor -little birds that the winter drives away from their -nests and who are obliged to go far away to seek -the seeds and the insects upon which they live -suffer also; but the spring brings them back -again. That ought to be an example to you. -Another effort, and you will reach the top; from -Provenchères you will only have to go down hill."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus encouraging myself climbing on and persevering, -as weary as I was, I reached Provenchères -about the middle of the day, and made a short -halt. I drank a glass of good wine at the inn of -the Two Keys, and there I learned that M. d'Arence -was still at St. Dié, the inspector of the woods -and waters, and that he had even commanded the -national guard during the late events. This news -gave me great pleasure; I left there full of hope; -and that evening having reached St. Marguerite, -at the bottom of the valley, I had only to follow -the highway till I reached the city, where I arrived -so fatigued that I could scarcely stand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I halted at the first little tavern in the Rue du -Faubourg St. Martin, and I was fortunate enough -to get a bed there, in which I slept still better -than in my barn at Schirmeck. The Prussian -trumpet awoke me early in the morning; one of -their regiments was occupying the city; the -colonel was quartered in the episcopal palace, the -other officers and the soldiers were lodged with -the inhabitants; and the requisitions of hay, straw, -meat, flour, brandy, tobacco, etc., were going on -as briskly as at other places. I took a clean shirt -out of my bundle, and put on my uniform, -remembering that M. d'Arence had always paid great -attention to the appearance of his men. Character -does not change: one is at fifty years of age -exactly as one was at twenty. Then I went down -into the inn parlour, and inquired for the house of -the inspector of the forest. A good old woman, -Mother Ory, who kept the inn, told me that he -lived at the corner of the large bridge, to the left, -as you went towards the railway station. I went -there at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a clear cold day; the principal street, -which runs from the railway station to the -cathedral, was white with snow, and the mountains -round the valley also. Some German soldiers, in -their earth-coloured overcoats and flat caps, were -taking away at a distance, before the mayor's -office, a cartload of provisions; two or three -servant maids were filling their buckets at the pretty -fountain of La Muerthe. There was nothing else -to see, for all the people kept in doors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having reached the house of the inspector, -and after having paused for a moment to reflect, -I was going in, when a tall, handsome man in -hussar pantaloons, a tight-fitting braided overcoat, -a green cap with silver lace, set a little on one -side, began to descend the stair-case. It was -M. d'Arence, as erect as ever, with his beard as -brown and his colour as fresh as it was at thirty -years of age. I recognised him at once. Except -for his gray head, he was not changed at all; but -he did not recognise me at first; and it was only -when I reminded him of this old guard, Frederick, -that he cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What, is it you, my poor Frederick? Decidedly -we are no longer young."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No, I was no longer young, and these last few -months had aged me still more, I know. However, -he was very glad to see me all the same.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let us go up stairs," he said; "we can talk -more at our ease."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So we went up stairs. He took me into a -large dark office, the blinds of which were closed, -then into his private room, where a good fire was -sparkling in a large porcelain stove; and, having -told me to take a chair, we talked for a long time -about our country. I told him of all our wretchedness -since the arrival of the Germans; he -listened to me with compressed lips, his elbow on -the edge of the desk, and he finally said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it is terrible! So many honest people -sacrificed to the selfishness of a few wretches! -We are expiating our faults terribly; but the -Germans' turn will come. In the meantime, that -is not the question; you must be in straitened -circumstances; you are doubtless at the end of -your funds?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course I told him the truth; I said that I -had to leave enough to live on at home, and that -I was trying to get work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he quietly opened a drawer, saying that -I, like the other brigadiers of Alsace, had a right -to my quarter's pay, that he would advance it to -me, and that I could repay him later.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I need not tell you my satisfaction at receiving -this money at a time when I needed it so much; -it touched me so that my eyes filled with tears -and I did not know how to thank him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He saw by my face what I thought, and, as I -tried to utter a few words of thanks, he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All right, all right, Frederick. Don't let us -speak of that. You are an honest man, a servant -of the state. I am glad to be able to help you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But what pleased me most of all was that, -when I was about to go, he asked me if several -of our guards had not joined the army of the -Vosges.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then I instantly thought of Jean; I thought -that perhaps he had news of him. In spite of -that, I first cited big Kern and Donadieu, and -then only Jean Merlin, who had left last, and who -had doubtless followed the same road as I had -done, by Schirmeck and Rothau.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A big, solid fellow," said he, "with brown -mustaches; formerly in the cavalry, was he not?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir," I answered, in great excitement; -"that is my son-in-law."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," said he, "that honest fellow passed -this way; I gave him the means and the necessary -indications to reach Tours. If you are uneasy -about him, you may be comforted; he is all -right; he is at his post."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We had then reached the foot of the stairs; -at the door M. d'Arence shook hands with me; -then he went away, crossing the bridge, and I -went towards the railway station, feeling happier -than I can tell you.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxxv"><span class="bold large">XXXV</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>I anticipated Marie-Rose's joy, and I seemed -to hear the poor grandmother thank God when -she heard the good news; it seemed to me that -our greatest misfortune had passed away, that the -sun was beginning to shine through the clouds -for us. I walked along with my head full of -happy thoughts; and when I entered the parlour -of the Golden Lion, Mother Ory looked at me, -saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! my good man, you have had some good -luck befall you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," I answered, laughing, "I am not the -same man I was this morning and yesterday. -Great misfortunes don't always stick to one -person all the time!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And I told her what had occurred. She -looked at me good-humouredly; but when I -asked her to give me some paper, so that I could -write all the good news to Graufthal, she said, -clasping her hands:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you thinking about? To write -that your son-in-law is with the army, that he -received aid from M. d'Arence to speed him on his -way! Why, M. d'Arence would be arrested -tomorrow, and you, too, and your daughter! Don't -you know that the Germans open all the letters; -that it is their best means of spying, and that they -seek every opportunity to levy new taxes on the -city? For such a letter they would require still -more requisitions. Beware of such fearful imprudence."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, seeing the justice of her remarks, I -suddenly lost all my gaiety; I had scarcely spirit -enough left to write to Marie-Rose that I had -arrived safe and well and that I had received some -help from my former chief. I thought at every -word that I had said too much; I was afraid that -a dot, a comma, would serve as a pretext to the -scoundrels to intercept my letter and to drive me -farther away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ah! how sad it was not to be able to send -even a word of hope to those one loves—above -all, at such a cruel moment! And how barbarous -they must have been to charge against the father -as a crime the consoling words that he sent to his -child, the good news that a son sends to his dying -mother! But that is what we have seen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Only the letters announcing the death of one's -relatives, or some new disaster to our country, -arrived; or else lies—news of victories invented by -the enemy, and that was followed the next day by -the announcement of a defeat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From that day, not daring to write what I -knew, and receiving no news from home, I lived -a melancholy life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Imagine, George, a man of my age, alone -among strangers, in a little room at an inn, -looking for hours together at the snow whirling against -the window-panes, listening to the noises outside, -a passing cart, a company of Prussians who were -going their rounds, the barking of a dog, people -quarrelling; without any amusement but his -meditations and his recollections.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are they about yonder? Does the -grandmother still live? And, Marie-Rose—what -has become of her? And Jean, and all the -others?" Always this weight on my heart!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No letters have come; so much the better. -If anything had happened, Marie-Rose would have -written. She does not write; so much the worse. -Perhaps she, too, is ill!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so it went on from morning till night. -Sometimes, when I heard the hum of voices down -stairs in the parlour, I would go down, to hear the -news of the war. Hope, that great lie which lasts -all one's life, is so rooted in our souls that we cling -to it till the end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So I went down stairs, and there, around the -tables, by the stove, were all kinds of -people—merchants, peasants, wagoners—talking of fights -in the north, the east; of pillages, of military -executions, of fires, of forced contributions, of -hostages, and I know not what all!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Paris was still defending herself; but near the -Loire our young troops had been forced to fall -back; the Germans were too many for them! -They were arriving by all the railroads; and then -our arms and ammunition were giving out. This -young army, assembled in haste, without a head, -without discipline, without arms, without provisions, -was forced to keep up against this terrible -war, and the fearful weight of numbers could not -fail to crush it after a while.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That is what the Swiss and Belgian newspapers -said, that the travellers sometimes left -behind them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The bombardment of Belfort continued. The -weather was fearful; snow and hard frosts -followed each other in quick succession. One could -almost say that the Almighty was against us.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For my part, George, I must confess that, -after so many misfortunes, I was discouraged; -the least rumour made me uneasy; I was -always afraid of hearing of fresh disasters; and -sometimes, too, my indignation made me wish -to go, in spite of my old legs, and get -myself killed, no matter where, so as to be done -with it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">Ennui</em><span> and discouragement had got the upper -hand of me, when I received a letter from my -daughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The grandmother was dead! Marie-Rose was -coming to join me at St. Dié. She told me to -hire a small apartment, as she was going to bring -a little furniture, some linen, and some bedding, -and that she was going to sell the rest at Graufthal -before her departure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She said also that Starck had offered to bring -her on his cart, through Sarrebourg, Lorquin, -Raon l'Étape; that the journey would probably -last fully three days, but that we would meet -again at the end of the week.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So the poor grandmother had ceased to suffer; -she lay beside her daughter, Catherine, and Father -Burat, whom I had loved so much! I said to -myself that they were all luckier than I; that they -slept among their ancestors, in the shadow of our -mountains.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The thought of seeing my daughter once more -did me good. I said to myself that we would be -no longer alone; that we could live without much -expense till the end of the invasion; and then, -when Jean returned, when he had found a -situation, we would build up our nest again in some -forest; that I would have my pension, and that, -in spite of all our misfortunes, I would end my -days in peace and quietness, among my grandchildren.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That appeared very natural to me. I repeated -to myself that God is good, and that all would -soon be in order again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marie-Rose arrived on the fifth of January, 1871.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxxvi"><span class="bold large">XXXVI</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>I had rented, for twelve francs a month, two -small rooms and a kitchen on the second floor of -the house next door to the Golden Lion; it -belonged to M. Michel, a gardener, a very good -man, who afterward rendered us great services.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was very cold that day. Marie-Rose had -written that she was coming, but without saying -whether in the morning or the evening; so I was -obliged to wait.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>About noon Starck's cart appeared at the end -of the street, covered with furniture and bedding.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marie-Rose was on the vehicle, wrapped in a -large cape of her mother's; the tall coalman was -walking in front, holding his horses by the bridle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I went down stairs and ran to meet them. I -embraced Starck, who had stopped, then my -daughter, saying to her, in a whisper:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have heard news of Jean. He passed -through St. Dié. M. d'Arence gave him the -means to cross the Prussian lines and join the -Army of the Loire."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not answer, but as I spoke, I felt her -bosom heave and her arms tighten round me with -extraordinary strength.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They went on again; a hundred yards farther -we were before our lodgings. Starck took his -horses to the stable of the Golden Lion. Marie-Rose -went into the large parlour of the inn, and -good Mother Ory made her take at once a cup of -broth, to warm her, for she was very cold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That same day Starck and I took up the furniture. -At four o'clock all was ready. We made a -fire in the stove. Marie-Rose was so worn out -that we had almost to carry her up stairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had noticed when I first saw her her extreme -pallor and sparkling eyes; it astonished me; but -I attributed the change to the long watches, the -grief, the anxiety, and, above all, to the fatigue of -a three days' journey in an open wagon, and in -such terribly cold weather. Was it not natural -after such suffering? I knew her to be strong; -since her childhood she had never been ill; I said -to myself that she would get over that in time, -and that with a little care and perfect rest she -would soon regain her rosy cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once up stairs, in front of the sparkling little -fire, seeing the neat room, the old wardrobe at the -back, the old pictures from the forest house hung -on the wall, and our old clock ticking away in the -right-hand corner behind the door, Marie-Rose -seemed satisfied, and said to me:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We will be very comfortable here, father; we -will keep quiet, and the Germans will not drive us -farther away. If only Jean comes back soon, we -will live in peace."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Her voice was hoarse. She also wanted to see -the kitchen, which opened on the court; the -daylight coming from over the roofs made this place -rather dark; but she thought everything was very nice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As we had not any provisions yet, I sent to the -inn for our dinner and two bottles of wine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Starck would take nothing but the expenses -on the road. He said that at this season there -was nothing to do in the forest, and that he might -as well have come as to have left his horses in the -stable; but he could not refuse a good dinner, and -then, too, he liked a good glass of wine.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then, at table, Marie-Rose told me all the -details of the grandmother's death; how she had -expired, after having cried for three days and three -nights, murmuring in her dreams: "Burat! -Frederick! The Germans! Frederick, do not desert -me! Take me with you!" At last the good God -took her to Himself, and half Graufthal followed -her bier through the snow to Dôsenheim, to bury -her with her own people.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In telling her sad tale, Marie-Rose could not -restrain her tears, and from time to time she -stopped to cough; so I told her that I had heard -enough, and that I did not care to know any more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And when dinner was over, I thanked Starck -for the services he had rendered us. I told him -that in misfortune we learn to know our true -friends, and other just things, which pleased him, -because he deserved them. About six o'clock he -went away again, in spite of all that I could say -to persuade him to remain. I went with him to -the end of the street, asking him to thank Father -Ykel and his daughter for all that they had done -for us, and if he went to Felsberg to tell Mother -Margredel how we were getting along, and, above -all, to ask her to send us all news of Jean that she -might receive. He promised, and we separated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I went back, feeling very thoughtful; glad to -see my child once more, but uneasy about the -terrible cold that kept her from speaking. However, -I had no serious fears, as I told you, George. -When one has always seen people in good health -one knows very well that such little ailments do -not signify anything.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was still seven or eight weeks of winter -to pass through. In the month of March the sun -is already warm, the spring is coming; in April, -sheltered as we were by the great hill of Saint -Martin, we would soon see the gardens and the -fields grow green again in the shelter of the forest. -We had also two large boxes of climbing plants -to place on our window-sills, which I pictured to -myself beforehand extending over our window-panes, -and that would remind us a little of the -forest house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All these things seemed good to me, and, in -my emotion at seeing Marie-Rose again, I looked -on the bright side of the future; I wanted to live -as much to ourselves as we could while waiting for -Jean's return, and to worry ourselves about the -war as little as possible, although that is very hard -to do when the fate of one's fatherland is in -question; yes, very hard. I promised myself to -tell my daughter nothing but pleasant things, such -as tidings of our victories, if we were so fortunate -as to gain any, and, above all, to hide from her my -uneasiness about Jean, whose long silence often -gave me gloomy thoughts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the midst of these meditations I returned -home. Night had come. Marie-Rose was waiting -for me beside the lamp; she threw herself into -my arms, murmuring:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! father, what happiness it is for us to be -together once more!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes, my child," I answered, "and others -who are now far away will return also. We must -have a little patience still. We have suffered too -much and too unjustly for that to last forever. -You are not very well now; the journey has -fatigued you; but it will be nothing. Go sleep, -dear child, and rest yourself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She went to her room, and I retired to bed, -thanking God for having given me back my -daughter.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxxvii"><span class="bold large">XXXVII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Thus, George, after the loss of my situation -and my property, earned by thirty years of labour, -economy and faithful services; after the loss of -our dear country, of our old parents and our -friends, I had still one consolation: my daughter -still remained to me, my good, courageous child, -who smiled at me in spite of her anxiety, her grief, -and her sufferings when she saw me too much cast -down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That is what overwhelms me when I think of -it; I always reproach myself for having allowed -her to see my grief, and for not having been able -to keep down my anger against those who had -reduced us to such a condition. It is easy to put a -good face on the matter when you have everything -you want; in need and in a strange country it is a -different thing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We lived as economically as possible. Marie-Rose -looked after our little household, and I often -sat for hours before the window, thinking of all -that had occurred during the last few months, of -the abominable order that had driven me from my -country; I suddenly grew indignant, and raised -my arms to heaven, uttering a wild cry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marie-Rose was more calm; our humiliation, -our misery, and the national disasters hurt her as -much and perhaps more than me, but she hid it -from me. Only what she could not hide from me -was that wretched cold, which gave me much -anxiety. Far from improving as I had hoped, it -grew worse—it seemed to me to get worse every -day. At night, above all, when I heard through -the deep silence that dry, hacking cough, that -seemed to tear her chest asunder, I sat up in bed -and listened, filled with terror.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sometimes, however, this horrible cold seemed -to get better, Marie-Rose would sleep soundly, -and then I regained my courage; and thinking of -the innumerable misfortunes that were extended -over France, the great famine at Paris, the -battlefields covered with corpses, the ambulances -crowded with wounded, the conflagrations, the -requisitions, the pillages, I said to myself that we had -still a little fire to warm us, a little bread to -nourish us. And then, so many strange things -happened during the wars! Had we not formerly -conquered all Europe, which did not prevent us -from being vanquished in our turn? Might not -the Germans have the same fate? All gamblers -end by losing! Those ideas and many others I -turned over in my mind; and Marie-Rose said, too:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All is not over, father; all is not over! I had -a dream last night. I saw Jean in a brigadier-forester's -costume; we will soon have some good -news!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alas! good news. Poor child! Yes, yes, you -can dream happy dreams; you may see Jean wearing -a brigadier's stripes, and smiling at you and -giving you his arm to lead you, with a white wreath -on your head, to the little chapel at Graufthal, -where the priest waits to marry you. All would -have happened thus, but there should be fewer -rascals on earth, to turn aside the just things -established by the Almighty. Whenever I think of -that time, George, I seem to feel a hand tearing -out my heart. I would like to stop, but as I -promised you, I will go on to the end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One day, when the fire was sparkling in the -little stove, when Marie-Rose, very thin and -thoughtful, was spinning, and when the old -recollections of the forest house, with the beautiful -spring, the calm, melancholy autumn, the songs of -the blackbirds and thrushes, the murmur of the -little river through the reeds, the voice of the old -grandmother, that of poor Calas, the joyous -barking of Ragot, and the lowing of our two -handsome cows under the old willows, came stealing -back to my memory; while I was forgetting -myself in these things, and while the monotonous -hum of the spinning wheel and the ticking of our -old clock were filling our little room, all at once -cries and songs broke out in the distance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Marie-Rose listened with amazement; and I, -abruptly torn from my pleasant dreams, started -like a man who has been roused from sleep. The -Germans were rejoicing so, some new calamity -had befallen us. That was my first idea, and I -was not mistaken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Soon bands of soldiers crossed the street, arm -in arm, crying with all their might:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Paris has fallen! Long live the German fatherland!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I looked at Marie-Rose; she was as pale as -death, and was looking at me also with her great -brilliant eyes. We turned our eyes away from -each other, so as not to betray the terrible emotion -that we felt. She went out into the kitchen, -where I heard her crying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Until dark we heard nothing but new bands, -singing and shouting as they passed; I, with -bowed head, heard from time to time my -daughter coughing behind the partition of the -kitchen, and I gave myself up to despair. About -seven o'clock Marie-Rose came in with the lamp. -She wanted to set the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is no use," I said; "do not put down my -plate. I am not hungry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Neither am I," said she.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, let us go to bed; let us try to forget -our misery; let us endeavour to sleep!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I rose; we kissed each other, weeping. That -night, George, was horrible. In spite of her -efforts to stifle the cough I heard Marie-Rose -coughing without intermission until morning, so -that I could not close my eyes. I made up my -mind to go for a doctor; but I did not want to -frighten my daughter, and thinking of a means to -speak of that to her, towards dawn I fell asleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was eight o'clock when I woke up, and -after dressing myself I called Marie-Rose. She -did not answer. Then I went into her room, and -I saw spots of blood on her pillow; her handkerchief, -too, which she had left on the night-table, -was all red.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It made me shudder! I returned and sat -down in my corner, thinking of what I had just -seen.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxxviii"><span class="bold large">XXXVIII</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was market day. Marie-Rose had gone to -lay in our small stock of provisions; she returned -about nine o'clock, so much out of breath that she -could scarcely hold her basket. When I saw her -come in I recollected the pale faces of those -young girls, of whom the poor people of our -valley used to say that God was calling them, and -who fell asleep quietly at the first snow. This -idea struck me, and I was frightened; but then, -steadying my voice, I said quite calmly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See here, Marie-Rose, all last night I heard -you coughing; it makes me uneasy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! it is nothing, father," she answered, -colouring slightly; "it is nothing, the fine weather -is coming and this cold will pass off."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Anyhow," I replied, "I will not be easy, as -long as a doctor has not told me what it is. I -must go at once and get a doctor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked at me, with her hands crossed over -the basket, on the edge of the table; and, guessing -perhaps by my anxiety that I had discovered -the spots of blood, she murmured:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, father, to ease your mind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," I said, "it is better to do things -beforehand; what is nothing in the beginning may -become very dangerous if neglected."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And I went out. Down stairs M. Michel -gave me the address of Dr. Carrière, who lived in -the Rue de la Mairie. I went to see him. He -was a man of about sixty, lean, with black -sparkling eyes and a grizzled head, who listened to me -very attentively and asked me if I was not the -brigadier forester that his friend M. d'Arence had -spoken to him about. I answered that I was he, -and he accompanied me at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Twenty minutes afterward we reached our -room. When Marie-Rose came the doctor -questioned her for a long time about the beginning of -this cold, about her present symptoms, if she had -not fever at night with shivering fits and attacks -of suffocation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By his manner of questioning her she was, so -to speak, forced to answer him, and the old -doctor soon knew that she had been spitting blood -for over a month; she confessed it, turning very -pale and looking at me as if to ask pardon for -having hidden this misfortune from me. Ah! I -forgave her heartily, but I was in despair. After -that Dr. Carrière wished to examine her; he -listened to her breathing and finally said that it was -all right, that he would give her a prescription.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But in the next room, when we were alone, he -asked me if any of our family had been consumptive; -and when I assured him that never, neither -in my wife's family nor my own, had we ever had -the disease, he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe you; your daughter is very beautifully -formed; she is a strong and handsome creature; -but then she must have had an accident; a -fall, or something like that must have put her in -this condition. She is probably hiding it from -us; I must know it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So I called Marie-Rose, and the doctor asked -her if some weeks before she did not remember -having fallen, or else run against something -violently, telling her that he was going to write his -prescription according to what she would reply, -and that her life probably depended upon it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Marie-Rose confessed that the day the -Germans came to take away our cows she had -tried to hold them back by the rope, and that -one of the Prussians had struck her between the -shoulders with the hilt of his sword, which had -thrown her forward on her hands, and that her -mouth had suddenly filled with blood; but that -the fear of my anger at hearing of such an -outrage had kept her from saying anything to me -about it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All was then clear to me. I could not restrain -my tears, looking at my poor child, the victim of -so great a misfortune. She withdrew. The -doctor wrote his prescription. As we were -descending the stairs he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is very serious. You have only one -daughter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is my only one," I answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was sad and thoughtful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We will do our best," he said; "youth has -many resources! But do not let her be excited -in any way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he walked down the street he repeated to -me the advice that M. Simperlin had given me -about the grandmother; I made no answer. It -seemed to me that the earth was opening under -my feet and was crying to me:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The dead—the dead! Give me my dead!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How glad I should have been to be the first to -go to rest, to close my eyes and to answer:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, here I am. Take me and leave the -young! Let them breathe a few days longer. -They do not know that life is a terrible misfortune; -they will soon learn it, and will go with less -regret. You will have them all the same!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, continuing to muse in this way, I entered -an apothecary's shop near the large bridge and -had the prescription made up. I returned to the -house. Marie-Rose took two spoonfuls of the -medicine morning and evening, as it had been -directed. It did her good, I saw it from the first -few days; her voice was clearer, her hands less -burning; she smiled at me, as if to say:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You see, father, it was only a cold. Don't -worry about it any more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An infinite sweetness shone in her eyes; she -was glad to get well. The hope of seeing Jean -once more added to her happiness. Naturally, I -encouraged her in her joyous thoughts. I said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We will receive news one of these days. -Neighbour such a one also expects to hear from -her son; it cannot be long now. The mails were -stopped during the war, the letters are lying at -the offices. The Germans wanted to discourage -us. Now that the armistice is signed we will get -our letters."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The satisfaction of learning such good news -brightened her countenance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I did not let her go to the city; I took the -basket myself and went to get our provisions; -the market women knew me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the old brigadier," they would say; -"whose pretty daughter is sick. They are alone. -It is he who comes now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>None of them ever sold me their vegetables at -too high a price.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xxxix"><span class="bold large">XXXIX</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>I thought no longer of the affairs of the -country. I only wanted to save my daughter; -the rumours of elections, of the National -Assembly at Bordeaux, no longer interested me; my -only thought was:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If Marie-Rose only lives!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So passed the end of January, then came the -treaty of peace: we were deserted! And from -day to day the neighbours received news from -their sons, from their brothers, from their friends, -some prisoners in Germany, others in cantonments -in the interior; but for us not a word!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I went to the post-office every morning to see -if anything had come for us. One day the -postmaster said to me:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! it is you. The postman has just gone. -He has a letter for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then I hastened hopefully home. As I reached -the door the postman left the alley and called to -me, laughing:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hurry up, Father Frederick, you have got -what you wanted this time: a letter that comes -from the Army of the Loire!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I went up stairs four steps at a time, with -beating heart. What were we about to hear? What -had happened during so many weeks? Was Jean -on the road to come and see us? Would he arrive -the next day—in two, three, or four days?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Agitated by these thoughts, when I got up -stairs my hand sought for the latch without finding -it. At last I pushed open the door; my little -room was empty. I called:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Marie-Rose! Marie-Rose!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No answer. I went into the other room; and -my child, my poor child was lying there on the -floor, near her bed, white as wax, her great eyes -half open, the letter clutched in her hand, a little -blood on her lips. I thought her dead, and with -a terrible cry I caught her up and laid her on the -bed. Then, half wild, calling, crying, I took the -letter and read it with one glance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>See, here it is! Read it, George, read it aloud; -I know it by heart, but it does not matter, I like -to turn the knife in the wound; when it bleeds it -hurts less.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"MY DEAR MARIE-ROSE: Adieu! I shall never -see you more. A bursting shell has shattered my -right leg; the surgeons have had to amputate it. -I will not survive the operation long. I had lain -too long on the ground. I had lost too much -blood. It is all over. I must die! Oh! Marie-Rose, -dear Marie-Rose, how I would like to see -you again for one instant, one minute; how much -good it would do me! All the time I lay wounded -in the snow I thought only of you. Do not -forget me either; think sometimes of Jean Merlin. -Poor Mother Margredel, poor Father Frederick, -poor Uncle Daniel! You will tell them. Ah! how -happy we would have been without this war!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The letter stopped here. Underneath, as you -see, another hand had written: "Jean Merlin, -Alsatian. Detachment of the 21st Corps. -Silly-le-Guillaume, 26th of January, 1871."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I took this all in with one look, and then I -continued to call, to cry, and at last I fell into a -chair, utterly exhausted, saying to myself that all -was lost, my daughter, my son-in-law, my country—all, -and that it would be better for me to die, too.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My cries had been heard; some people came -up stairs, Father and Mother Michel, I think. -Yes, it was they who sent for the doctor. I was -like one distracted, without a sign of reason; my -ears were singing; it seemed to me that I was -asleep and was having a horrible dream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Long after the voice of Dr. Carrière roused -me from my stupor; he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Take him away! Do not let him see this! -Take him away!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some people took me by the arms; then I -grew indignant, and I cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir; I will not be taken away! I want -to stay, she is my daughter! Have you children, -that you tell them to take me away? I want to -save her! I want to defend her!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let him alone," said the doctor, sadly; "let -the poor fellow alone. But you must be silent," -he said to me; "your cries may kill her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I fell back in my seat, murmuring:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will not cry out any more, sir; I will say -nothing. Only let me stay by her; I will be very -quiet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few minutes after, Dr. Carriére left the -room, making a sign to the others to withdraw.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A great many people followed him, a small -number remained. I saw them moving to and -fro, arranging the bed and raising the pillows, -whispering among themselves. The silence was -profound. Time passed. A priest appeared with -his assistants; they began to pray in Latin. It was -the last offices of the church. The good women, -kneeling, uttered the responses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All disappeared. It was then about five o'clock -in the evening. The lamp was lighted. I rose -softly and approached the bed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My daughter, looking as beautiful as an angel, -her eyes half open, still breathed; I called her in -a whisper: "Marie-Rose! Marie-Rose!" crying -bitterly as I spoke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It seemed every minute as if she was about to -look at me and answer, "Father!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was only the light that flickered on her -face. She no longer stirred. And from minute -to minute, from hour to hour, I listened to her -breathing, which was growing gradually shorter -and shorter. I looked at her cheeks and her -forehead, gradually growing paler. At last, uttering a -sigh, she lifted her head, which was slightly drooping, -and her blue eyes opened slowly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A good woman, who was watching with me, -took a little mirror from the table and held it to -her lips; no cloud dimmed the surface of the -glass; Marie-Rose was dead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I said nothing, I uttered no lamentations, and -I followed like a child those who led me into the -next room. I sat down in the shadow, my hands -on my knees; my courage was broken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And now it is ended. I have told you all, George.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Need I tell you of the funeral, the coffin, the -cemetery? and then of my return to the little -room where Marie-Rose and I had lived together; -of my despair at finding myself alone, without -relations, without a country, without hope, and to -say to myself, "You will live thus always—always -until the worms eat you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No, I cannot tell you about that; it is too -horrible. I have told you enough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>You need only know that I was like a madman, -that I had evil ideas which haunted me, -thoughts of vengeance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not I, George, who cherished those -terrible thoughts; it was the poor creature -abandoned by heaven and earth, whose heart had been -torn out, bit by bit, and who knew no longer -where to lay his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I wandered through the streets; the good -people pitied me; Mother Ory gave me all my meals. -I learned that later. Then I did not think of -anything; my evil thoughts did not leave me; I talked -of them alone, sitting behind the stove of the -inn, my chin on my hands, my elbows on my -knees, and my eyes fixed on the floor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>God only knows what hatred I meditated. -Mother Ory understood all, and the excellent -woman, who wished me well, told M. d'Arence -about me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One morning, when I was alone in the inn -parlour, he came to talk things over with me, -reminding me that he had always shown himself -very considerate towards me, that he had always -recommended me as an honest man, a good servant, -full of zeal and probity, in whom one could -repose perfect trust, and that he hoped it would -be that way till the end; that he was sure of it; -that a brave, just man, even in the midst of the -greatest misfortunes, would show himself the same -that he was in prosperity; that duty and honour -marched before him; that his greatest consolation -and his best was to be able to say to himself: "I -am cast down, it is true; but my courage remains -to me; my good conscience supports me; my -enemies themselves are forced to confess that fate -has been unjust to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He talked to me in this manner for a long -time, pacing up and down the room; and I, who -had not shed a tear at my daughter's funeral, I -burst out crying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he told me that the time had come to -depart; that the sight of the Prussians only -embittered my nature; that he would give me a letter -of recommendation for one of his intimate friends -in Paris; that I would obtain there a situation -with a small salary, either on the railway or -elsewhere; and that in this way, when my pension -was paid to me, I could live in peace, not happy, -but far from all that reminded me unceasingly of -my misfortunes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was ready to do anything that he wished, -George, but he wanted nothing but for my own -good.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So I set out, and for the last three years I have -been one of the superintendents of the Eastern -Railway Station.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="xl"><span class="bold large">XL</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When I arrived in the midst of the great -confusion after the siege, I had the pain of seeing a -terrible thing, the recollection of which adds to -my suffering—Frenchmen fighting against Frenchmen. -The great city was in flames, and the Prussians -outside looked at this sight with a barbarous joy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no longer any Paris," they said; -"no longer any Paris."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The horrible envy that gnawed these people -was satisfied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Yes, I have seen that! I thought that it was -all over with us; I shuddered at it. I cried, -"The Almighty has determined that France shall -descend into the abyss!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But that, thanks to Heaven, has also passed -away. The recollection remains; let us hope that -it will never perish.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And that was not all. After these great -calamities I was obliged to witness, as I fulfilled the -duties of my post, pass, day by day, before my -eyes, the great emigration of our brothers of Alsace -and Lorraine; men, women, children, old men, by -thousands, going to earn their living far from their -native land—in Algeria, in America, everywhere.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Our poor countrymen all recognised me by -my face; they said, "He is one of our people."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sight of them does me good also; it is -like a breath from one's native land of good and -wholesome air. We shook hands. I pointed -them out the hotel where one can live cheaply; I -rendered them all the little services that one can -render to friends of a day, who will retain a kind -remembrance of him who held out his hand to them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And in the evening, when I went back to my -little room under the roof, and thinking about -these things, I am still glad at not being quite -useless in this world; it is my only consolation, -George; sometimes this thought gives me a good -night's rest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Other days, when the weather is gloomy, -when it rains, when it is cold, or when I have -met in the street the bier of a young girl, with its -white wreath, then sad thoughts get the upper -hand. I wrap my old cloak around me when my -work is over, and I wander aimlessly through the -streets, among the people who are all occupied by -their own affairs and pay no attention to any one. -I walk very far, sometimes to the Arc de -Triomphe, sometimes to the Garden of Plants, and I -return utterly exhausted. I fall asleep, trying not -to think of the happy days of the past, for those -remembrances make my heart throb even in a -dream, and suddenly I awake, covered with -perspiration, and crying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All is over. You have no longer a daughter. -You are alone in the world."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I am obliged to rise, to light my lamp, and to -open the window in order to calm myself a -little, to soothe myself and to restore myself to -reason.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sometimes, too, I dream that I am at the -forest house with Jean Merlin and Marie-Rose. -I see them; I talk to them; we are happy. But -when I awake—do not let us talk of it; what is -ended cannot return.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Things will go on this way as long as they -can. I shall not be buried with the old people, -neither with Jean; nor with my daughter. We -will all be scattered. This thought also gives me -pain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I must confess, George, that our brothers of -Paris have received us very well; they have -helped us, they have aided us in a hundred ways; -they have done all that they could for us. But -after such terrible disasters, they themselves -having been so severely tried, the poverty was still -very great; for a long time in the garrets of -La Villette, of La Chapelle, and of the other -suburbs, we suffered from cold and hunger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To-day the greatest portion of the stream of -emigration has passed; almost all the labourers -have got work; the women and the old people -have found a refuge, and the children are -receiving instruction in the public schools.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Others are always coming, the emigation will -last as long as the annexation, for Frenchmen -cannot bow their heads like the Germans under -the Prussians' despotism, and the annexation will -last long if we continue to dispute over party -questions instead of uniting together in the love -of our fatherland.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But do not let us speak of our dissensions; -that is too sad.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The only thing that I have still to say to you -before ending this sorrowful story is, that in the -midst of my misfortunes, I do not accuse the -Almighty; no, the Almighty is just; we deserve -to suffer. Whence came all our misfortunes? -From one man who had taken an oath before -God to obey the laws, and who trampled them -under his feet, who had those killed who defended -them, and transported far away to the islands -thousands of his fellow beings whose courage and -good sense he feared. Well, this man we -approved of; we voted for him, not once but twenty -times; we took, so to speak, his evil actions upon -ourselves; we threw aside justice and honour; we -thought, "Interest does everything; this man is -shrewd; he has succeeded; we must support him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When I remember that I voted for that -wretch, knowing that it was not just, but afraid -of losing my place, when I remember that, I cry, -"Frederick, may God forgive you! You have -lost everything, friends, relatives, country—everything. -Confess that you deserved it. You were -not ashamed to support the man who caused -thousands of Frenchmen, as honest as yourself, -also to lose their little all. You voted for -strength against justice; you must bow beneath -the law that you accepted. And, like millions of -others, you, too, gave that man the right to -declare war; he did so. He staked you, your -country, your family, your possessions, those of all -Frenchmen in the interests of his dynasty, -without thinking of anything, without reflecting or -taking any precautions; he lost the game. Pay -and be silent. Do not reproach the Almighty -with your own stupidity and injustice; beat your -breast and bear your iniquity." That is what I -think.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>May others profit by my example; may they -always nominate honest people to represent -them; may honesty, disinterestedness and patriotism -come before anything else; people who are -too cunning are often dishonest, and people who -are too bold, who do not fear to cry out against -the laws, are also capable of upsetting them and -of putting their own will in the place of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That is the best advice to be given to the -French; if they profit by it all will go well, we -will regain our frontiers; if they do not profit by -it, that which happened to the Alsatians and -Lorrainers will happen to them also, province by -province; they may repent, but it will be too late.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As to the Germans, they will reap what they -have sown. Now they are at the pinnacle of -power; they made all Europe tremble, and they -are foolish enough to rejoice at it. It is very -dangerous to frighten every one; we learned it at -our own expense; they will learn it in their turn. -Because Bismark has succeeded in his enterprises, -they look upon him as a kind of a god; -they will not see that this man employed only -dishonest means: strategy, lies, espionage, corruption -and violence. Nothing is ever firm that is -erected on such a foundation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But to tell all this or nothing to the Germans -would come to the same thing; they are -intoxicated by their victories, and will only awake -when Europe, wearied by their ambition and by -their insolence, will rise to bring them to reason; -then they will be forced to acknowledge, as we -have acknowledged ourselves, that, if strength -sometimes overwhelms right, justice is eternal.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>THE END OF BRIGADIER FREDERICK</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-dean-s-watch"><span class="bold large">THE DEAN'S WATCH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">I</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The day before the Christmas of 1832, my -friend Wilfrid, his double-bass slung over his -shoulder, and I with violin under my arm, were -on our way from the Black Forest to Heidelberg. -An extraordinary quantity of snow had fallen that -season. As far as our eyes could see over the -great desert plain before us, not a trace of the -route, either of road or path, was to be discovered. -The north wind whistled its shrill aria about our -ears with a monotonous persistence, and Wilfrid, -with wallet flattened against his thin back, his -long heron-legs stretched to the utmost, and the -visor of his little flat cap pulled down over his -nose, strode along before me, humming a gay air -from "Ondine." Every now and then he turned -his head with a grim smile, and cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Comrade, play me the waltz from 'Robin'—I -wish to dance!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A peal of laughter always followed, and then -the brave fellow would push on again with fresh -courage. I toiled on behind in his footsteps, with -the snow up to my knees, and my spirits sinking -lower and lower every moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The heights about Heidelberg had begun to -appear on the distant horizon, and we were hoping -to reach the town before nightfall, when we heard -the gallop of a horse behind us. It was about five -o'clock, and great flakes of snow were whirling -about in the gray light. Soon the rider was within -twenty steps. He slackened his pace, examining -us out of one corner of his eye. We also examined him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Imagine a big man with red beard and hair, -wrapped in a brown cloak, over which was loosely -thrown a pelisse of fox-skins; on his head a -superb cocked-hat; his hands buried in fur gloves -reaching to the elbows. On the croup of his -stout stallion was strapped a well-filled valise. -Evidently he was some burly sheriff, or burgomaster.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hey, my lads!" he cried, drawing one of his -big hands from the muff which hung across his -saddle-bow, and clapping his charger's neck, "we -are going to Heidelberg, I see, to try a little -music."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wilfrid eyed the traveller askance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that any affair of yours, sir?" he answered, -gruffly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eh? yes; I should have a piece of advice to -give you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you can keep it till it's asked for," -retorted Wilfrid, quickening his pace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I cast a second glance at our new companion. -He looked exactly like a great cat, with ears standing -out from his head, his eyelids half closed, and -a long, bristling mustache; altogether he had a -sort of purring, paternal air.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My friend," he began again, this time addressing -me, "the best thing you can do is to return -whence you came."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The famous maestro Prinenti, from Novare, -has announced a grand Christmas concert at -Heidelberg. Everybody is going to it; you will not -get a single kreutzer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was too much for Wilfrid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A fig for your maestro, and all the Prinentis -in this world!" he cried, snapping his fingers. -"This lad here, with his long curls and blue eyes, -and not a hair yet on his chin, is worth an army -of your Italian charlatans. Though he never -played outside the Black Forest, he can handle a -bow with the first musician in Europe, and will -draw melody from his violin such as was never -heard before in Heidelberg."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hear, hear!" cried the stranger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is just as I tell you," said Wilfrid, blowing -on his fingers, which were red with the cold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he set out to run, and I followed him as -best I might, thinking he wished to make game -of the traveller, who kept up with us, however, at -a little trot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In this way we went on in silence for more -than half a league. Suddenly the stranger cried -out, in a harsh voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whatever your talents may be, go back -to the Black Forest. We have vagabonds -enough in Heidelberg already without you. It -is good advice I give you—you had best profit -by it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wilfrid was about to make an angry retort, -but the rider had started off at a gallop, and -already reached the grand avenue of the elector. -At the same moment, a great flock of crows rose -from the plain, and seemed to follow him, filling -the air with their loud cries.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>About seven o'clock in the evening we reached -Heidelberg. There, in fact, we found posted on -all the walls Prinenti's flaming placards, "Grand -Concert, Solo, etc., etc." We wandered about -among the different ale-houses, in which we met -several musicians from the Black Forest, all old -comrades of ours, who immediately engaged us to -play in their band. There were old Bremer, the -violoncellist; his two sons, Ludwig and Carl, -capital second violins; Heinrich Siebel, the -clarinet-player; and big Berthe with her harp. Wilfrid -with his bass-viol, and myself as first violin, made -up the troupe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was agreed that we should all go together, -make one purse, and divide after Christmas. -Wilfrid had already engaged a room for himself and -me. It was on the sixth story of the little tavern -"Pied-du-Mouton," in the middle of the Holdergasse, -and was only a garret, though, luckily, it -had a sheet-iron stove, in which we lighted a fire -to dry ourselves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While we were sitting quietly over the fire, -roasting chestnuts and discussing a pot of wine, -who should come tripping up the stairs and knock -at the door but little Annette, the maid of the inn, -in scarlet petticoat and black-velvet bodice, with -cheeks like roses, and lips as red as cherries! -Next moment she had thrown herself into my -arms with a cry of joy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were old friends, the pretty Annette and -I, for we were both from the same village, and, to -say truth, my heart had long been captive to her -bright eyes and coquettish airs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I saw you go up just now," she said, drawing -a stool to my side, "and here I am, come for a -minute's talk with you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With that she began such a string of questions -about this one and that—in fact, about every one -in our village—that I declare to you it was as -much as I could do to answer the half of them. -Every little while she would stop and look at me -with such a tender air—we would have been there -till this time, had not suddenly Mother Gréder -Dick screamed from the bottom of the stairs:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Annette, Annette, are you ever coming?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This minute, madame, this minute," cried the -poor child, jumping up in a fright. She gave me -a little pat on the cheek, and flew to the door. -But, just as she was going out, she stopped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" she cried, turning back, "I forgot to -tell you. Have you heard——?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The death of our pro-recteur Zahn?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, what is that to us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, yes; but take care, sir, take care—if -your papers are not all right! To-morrow morning, -at eight o'clock, they will come to ask for -them. They have arrested, oh! so many people -during the last two weeks. The pro-recteur was -assassinated yesterday evening, in the library, at -the Cloister of Saint-Christophe. Last week the -old priest, Ulmet Elias, who lived in the Jews' -quarter, was killed in the same way. Only a few -days before that they murdered the nurse, -Christina Haas, and Seligmann, the agate-merchant of -the Rue Durlach. So, my poor Kasper," she -added, with a tender glance, "take good care of -yourself, and be sure that your papers are all -right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All the while she was speaking, the cries below -continued.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Annette, O Annette, will you come? Oh, -the miserable creature, to leave me here all -alone!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And now, too, we could hear the shouts of -the guests in the saloon calling for wine, beer, -ham, sausages. Annette saw that she must go, -and ran down the stairs as quickly as she had -come up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Mon Dieu! mon Dieu!</em><span>" I heard her soft -voice answering her mistress, "what can be the -matter, madame, that you should make such an -outcry? One would think the house were on fire."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wilfrid closed the door after her, and came -back to his seat. We looked at each other with -some uneasiness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is strange news," said he at last. "At -any rate, your papers are all in order?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly," I replied, and showed him my pass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good! There is mine, I had it viséed before -we left. But still, all these murders bode no good -to us. I am afraid we shall make but a poor -business here. Many families must be in mourning, -and then, besides all these annoyances, the trouble -which the police will give us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bah!" cried I, "you take too dismal a view -of everything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We continued to talk about these strange -events until long past midnight. The fire in our -little stove lighted up the angles of the roof, the -square dormer window with its three cracked panes -of glass, the mattress spread upon the bare boards, -the blackened beams overhead, the little fir table, -which cast an unsteady shadow on the worm-eaten -floor. A mouse, attracted by the heat, darted back -and forth like an arrow along the wall. We could -hear the wind without, whistling and bellowing -around the high chimney-stacks, sweeping the -snow from the gutters beneath the eaves in misty -swirls. I was dreaming of Annette. Silence had -fallen upon us. Suddenly Wilfrid, throwing off -his coat, cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is time to sleep; put another stick of wood -in the stove, and let us go to bed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, that is the best thing we can do," said I, -and began to pull off my boots. Two minutes -afterward we were stretched on the mattress, the -coverings drawn up to our chins, and a great log -under our heads for a pillow. Wilfrid was asleep -in a moment. The light from the little stove -blazed up and died away, the wind redoubled its -violence without, and, in the midst of dreams of -Annette, I, too, in my turn, slept the sleep of the -just.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>About two o'clock in the morning I was -awakened by a strange noise. At first I thought -it was a cat running along the gutters; but, my -ear being close to the rafters, I could not remain -long in doubt. Some one was walking over the -roof. I touched Wilfrid with my elbow to awaken -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hist!" whispered he, pressing my hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He also had heard the noise. The fire was -just dying out, the last feeble flame flickered on -the crumbling walls. I was on the point of springing -from the bed, when, at a single blow, the little -window, kept closed by a fragment of brick, was -pushed open. A pale face, with red hair, eyes -gleaming with phosphorescent light, and quivering -cheeks appeared in the opening, and looked about -the room. Our fright was so great that we could -not utter a sound. The man passed first one leg, -then the other, through the window, and descended -into the garret so carefully that not a board creaked -under his footsteps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This man, with heavy, round shoulders, short -and thick-set, his face wrinkled and set like a tiger -couched to spring, was none other than the rider -who had overtaken us on the road to Heidelberg. -But what a change in his appearance since then! -In spite of the excessive cold, he was in his -shirtsleeves, a pair of breeches belted about his waist, -woollen stockings, and shoes with silver buckles. -A long knife, flecked with blood, glittered in his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Wilfrid and I gave ourselves up for lost. But -he did not seem to see us under the shadow of the -sloping roof, although the fire was fanned again -into a blaze by the current of cold air from the -open window. The intruder seated himself on a -stool, cowering and shivering in a strange way. -Suddenly his greenish-yellow eyes fixed themselves -on me, his nostrils dilated; for more than a minute, -which seemed to me an age, he stared at me. The -blood stood still in my veins. Then at last, -turning towards the fire, he coughed with a husky, -hoarse sound, like that which a cat makes, without -moving a muscle of his face. Drawing a watch -from the fob of his pantaloons, he seemed to look -at the hour, and then, whether from absence of -mind or some other reason, I know not, laid it -upon the table. At length, rising from his seat -with an air of uncertainty, he looked towards the -window, appeared for a moment to hesitate, and -then passed out of the door, leaving it wide open -behind him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I jumped up to shove the bolt, but already the -man's steps were creaking on the staircase two -stories below. An irresistible curiosity overcame -my terror. I heard a window open, which looked -upon the court, and, in a moment, I was at the -dormer in the landing of the stairs on the same -side. The court, seen from this height, was like a -deep well. A wall, fifty or sixty feet high, divided -it into two parts. On the right was the court of -a pork-butcher; on the left, that of the -Pied-du-Mouton. The wall was covered with moss and -the rank vegetation which flourishes in the shade. -Its summit reached from the window which the -marauder had just opened, in a straight line to -the roof of a great, gloomy building in the rear of -the Bergstrasse. All this I took in at a glance, -as the moon shone out from among the heavy -snow-laden clouds, and I trembled as I saw the -man come out through the window, and fly along -the top of this wall, his head bent forward, the -long knife in his hand, while the wind whistled -and wailed a dismal chorus.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He gained the roof in front, and disappeared -through a window. I believed I must be -dreaming. For several moments I remained with open -mouth, my breast bare, and my hair blown about -by the wind and wet by the sleet which fell from -the eaves. At last, waking from my stupor, I -returned to our garret, and found Wilfrid with -face blanched, and haggard with fright, and -muttering a prayer under his breath. I hastened to -bolt the door, throw some wood into the stove, -and slip on my clothes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?" asked my comrade, getting out of bed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," I replied, "we are safe this time. If -that man did not see us, it was only because -Heaven was not ready yet for us to die."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," he murmured, "yes; it is one of the -assassins Annette told us about. Good -Heavens! what a face! and what a knife!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He fell back on the mattress. I swallowed -what was left of the wine in the pitcher; and, as -the fire was now burning brightly, filling the room -with its heat, and the bolt seemed a strong one, I -began to regain my courage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still, the watch was there; the man might -return to look for it. Our fears awoke again at -this idea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is to be done now?" asked Wilfrid. -"Our shortest plan will be to go back at once to -the Black Forest. I have no wish to play any -more double-bass. You can do as you choose——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But why? What should make us go back? -We have committed no crime."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush! speak low!" whispered he. "The -word crime alone is enough to hang us if any one -heard. Poor devils like us serve as examples for -others. Were they only to find this watch -here——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, Wilfrid," said I; "it is no use to lose -one's head. I dare say, a crime has been committed -this night in the neighbourhood, it is more -than probable; but, instead of flying, an honest -man should aid justice; he should——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But how aid it? how?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The simplest way will be to take the watch -to-morrow to the provost, and tell him what has -taken place."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never! never! I would not dare touch the -watch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well; I will go myself. Come, let us -go to bed again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No; I cannot sleep any more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As you will.—Light your pipe, then, and let -us talk."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As soon as day dawned, I took the watch -from the table. It was a very fine one, with two -dials—one for the hours, the other for the -minutes. Wilfrid seemed, however, by this time, to -have regained his assurance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Kasper," he said, "all things considered, it -will be better for me to go to the provost. You -are too young for such a piece of business. You -will not be able to explain properly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just as you choose," I replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Besides, it would seem strange for a man of -my age to send a child."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, Wilfrid; I understand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I saw that his self-esteem had driven him to -this resolution. He would have been ashamed to -own to his comrades that he had shown less -courage than I.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took the watch, and we descended the -stairs with grave faces. Passing through the alley -which leads to the street Saint-Christophe, we -heard the clinking of glasses and knives and -forks. At the same time I recognised the voices -of old Bremer and his two sons.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Faith, Wilfrid," said I, "a good glass of wine -would not be bad before we go out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I pushed open the door into the saloon. All -our friends were there; violins and horns hung -upon the walls—the harp in one corner. They -received us with joyful cries of welcome, and -made us take seats at the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hey!" cried old Bremer; "good luck, comrades! -See the snow, and the wind! The saloons -will all be full. Every flake of snow in the air -is a florin in our pockets!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sight of my little Annette, as fresh and -piquant as ever, smiling on me with eyes and lips -full of love, gave me new spirits. The best pieces -of ham were for me; and, every time that she -came to set down a glass near me, her hand would -tenderly press my shoulder. Ah! how my heart -beat, as I thought of the nuts which we had -cracked together the night before!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Still, the pale face of the assassin would pass -from time to time before my eyes, making me -shudder at the recollection. I looked at Wilfrid. -He was grave and thoughtful. As eight o'clock -struck, we all rose to go, when suddenly the door -opened, and three mean-looking fellows, with -leaden faces, and eyes sharp as rats', followed by -several more of the same sort, presented -themselves on the threshold. One of them, with a -long nose, which seemed to be on the scent for -some mischief, a great cudgel in his fist, advanced -with the demand—</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your papers, gentlemen!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Every one hastened to satisfy him. Unhappily, -however, Wilfrid, who was standing near the -stove, was seized with a sudden fit of trembling; -and, as he saw the practised eye of the police -agent regarding him with an equivocal look, the -unlucky idea occurred to him of letting the watch -slip down into his boot. Before it reached its -destination, however, the officer stepped up to -him, and, slapping him on the leg, cried, in a -bantering tone:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! ha! something seems to trouble you here!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Upon this, Wilfrid, to the consternation of all, -succumbed entirely. He fell back upon a bench, -as pale as death; and Madoc, the chief of police, -with a malicious shout of laughter, drew forth the -watch from his pantaloons. But, the moment the -agent looked at it, he became grave.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let no one go out!" he thundered to his -followers; "we've the whole gang here. 'Tis the -watch of the dean, Daniel Van der Berg. Quick! the -handcuffs!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thereupon arose a terrible tumult. Giving -ourselves up for lost, I slipped down under the -bench close to the wall. In spite of their -protests, poor old Bremer, his sons, and Wilfrid, were -all handcuffed. Just then I felt a soft little hand -passed gently about my neck. It was Annette's, -and I pressed my lips upon it as a last adieu, -when, seizing my ear, she pulled it gently—gently. -Under one end of the table I saw the -cellar-door open; I slipped through; the trap-door -closed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All had passed in a second. In my hiding-place -I heard them trampling over the door; then -everything was still; my unlucky comrades were -gone. Without, on the door-step, I heard Mother -Grédel Dick lamenting in shrill tones the -dishonour which had fallen on the Pied-du-Mouton.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All day long I remained squeezed behind a -hogshead, with back bent and legs doubled under -me—a prey to a thousand fears. Should a dog -stray into the cellar—should the landlady take a -fancy to refill the jug herself, or a fresh cask have -to be broached—the least chance might be my -destruction. I imagined old Bremer and his sons, -Wilfrid, big Berthe herself, all hanging from the -gibbet on the Harberg, in the middle of a great -flock of crows that were feasting at their expense. -My hair stood on end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Annette, as anxious as myself, carefully closed -the door each time she left the cellar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Leave the door alone," I heard the old -woman say. "Are you a fool, to lose half your -time in opening it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After that the door remained open. I saw the -tables surrounded by new guests, who discussed in -loud tones the doings of the famous band of -murderers who had just been captured, and exulted -over the fate in store for them. All the musicians -from the Black Forest, they said, were bandits, -who made a pretence of their trade to find their -way into houses and spy out the bolts and bars, -and then, next morning, the master would be -found murdered in his bed, the mistress and -children with their throats cut. They ought all to be -exterminated without pity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All the town will go to see them hanged!" -cried Mother Grédel. "It will be the happiest -day of my life!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And to think that the watch of Maître Daniel -was the means of their capture! He told the -police of its loss, and gave them a description of -it this morning; and, an hour afterward, Madoc -bagged the whole covey."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thereupon followed shouts of laughter and -triumph. Shame, indignation, terror, made me -hot and cold by turns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Night came at last. All the drinkers had -gone, save two or three who still lingered over -their cups. A single candle remained lighted in -the saloon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go to bed, madame," said Annette's soft -voice to Mother Grédel; "I will stay till these -gentlemen go."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The carousers, tipsy as they were, understood -the hint, and took their leave, one by one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At last," thought I, as I heard the last one -go, stumbling and hiccoughing through the door—"they -are all gone. Mother Grédel will go to -bed. Annette will come, without delay, to deliver me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In this agreeable anticipation, I had already -disentangled my numb limbs, when these dreadful -words of the portly landlady met my ears:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Annette, go and close up, and do not forget -the bar. I am going myself into the cellar."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Alas! this seemed to be the praiseworthy, but -for me most unlucky, custom of the good lady—so -as to see herself that all was right.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, madame," stammered Annette, "there -is no need; the cask is not empty——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mind your own business," interrupted her -mistress, whose candle already was shining at the -top of the steps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I had hardly time to crouch again behind the -cask. The old woman went from one cask to the -other, stooping beneath the low ceiling of the -vault.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, the hussy!" I heard her mutter; "how -she lets the wine leak out! But only wait—I will -teach her to close the stopcocks better. Just to -see! just to see!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The light cast dark shadows on the walls glistening -with moisture. I made myself as small as -possible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly, just as I thought the danger over, I -heard a sigh from the stout dame—a sigh so long, -so lugubrious, that it struck me at once. Something -extraordinary must have happened. I risked -a look. To my horror, I saw Mother Grédel, -with open mouth, and eyes starting from her head, -staring at the ground beneath the cask behind -which I was standing motionless. She had espied -one of my feet, projecting beneath the joist which -supported the hogshead. No doubt, she thought -she had discovered the chief of the brigands, -hidden there for the purpose of cutting her throat -during the night. My resolution was taken -quickly. Rising up, I said in a low voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Madame, for Heaven's sake, have pity on -me! I am——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But thereupon, without listening—without -even looking at me, she began to scream like any -peacock—the shrillest, the most ear-piercing -screams—and at the same time to clamber up the -stairs as fast as her fat body would let her. -Almost beside myself with terror, I clung to her -robe—fell on my knees beside her. But this was -worse still.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Help! help! assassins! murder!" she shrieked. -"Oh! oh! Let me go! Take my money! Oh! oh!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was frightful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look at me, madame," I tried to say; "I am -not what you think."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she was crazy with fear; she raved, she -gasped, she bawled at the top of her lungs—so -that, had we not been underground, the whole -quarter would have been aroused. In despair, and -furious at her stupid folly, I clambered over her -back, and gained the door before her—slammed -it in her face, and shoved the bolt. During the -struggle the light had been extinguished, and -Mistress Grédel remained in the dark, her voice only -faintly heard at intervals.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Exhausted, almost annihilated, I looked at -Annette, whose distress was equal to mine. We -stood listening in silence to the faint cries. -Gradually they died away and ceased. The poor -woman must have fainted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Kasper!" cried Annette, clasping her -hands. "What is to be done? Fly! Save -yourself! Have you killed her?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Killed her? I?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No matter—fly! Here—quick!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And she drew the bar from before the street-door. -I rushed into the street, without even -thanking her—ungrateful wretch that I was! The -night was black as ink—not a star to be seen, not -a lamp lighted, snow driving before the wind. I -ran on for half an hour, at least, before I stopped -to take breath. I looked up—imagine my -despair—there I was, right in front of the -Pied-du-Mouton again. In my terror I had made the tour -of the quarter perhaps two or three times, for -aught I knew. My legs were like lead; my knees -trembled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The inn, just before deserted, was buzzing like -a bee-hive. Lights went from window to window. -It was full, no doubt, of police-agents. Exhausted -with hunger and fatigue, desperate, not knowing -where to find refuge, I took the most singular of -all my resolutions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Faith," said I to myself, "one death as well -as another! It is no worse to be hung than to -leave one's bones on the road to the Black Forest. -Here goes!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And I entered the inn to deliver myself up to -justice. Besides the shabby men with crushed -hats and big sticks whom I had already seen in -the morning, who were going and coming, and -prying everywhere, before a table were seated -the grand-provost Zimmer, dressed all in black, -solemn, keen-eyed, and the secretary Rôth, with -his red wig, imposing smile, and great, flat ears, -like oyster-shells. They paid hardly any attention -at all to me—a circumstance which at once modified -my resolution. I took a seat in one corner of -the hall, behind the great stove, in company with -two or three of the neighbours, who had run in to -see what was going on, and called calmly for a -pint of wine and a plate of sauerkraut.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Annette came near betraying me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, good Heavens!" she exclaimed; "is it -possible that you are here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But luckily no one noticed her exclamation, -and I ate my meal with better appetite, and listened -to the examination of the good lady Grédel, who -sat propped up in a big arm-chair, with hair -dishevelled, and eyes still dilated by her fright.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of what age did this man seem to be?" asked -the provost.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Forty or fifty, sir. It was an immense -man, with black whiskers, or brown—I don't -know exactly which—and a long nose, and green -eyes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Had he no marks of any kind—scars, for instance?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I can't remember. Luckily, I screamed -so loud, he was frightened; and then I defended -myself with my nails. He had a great hammer -and pistols. He seized me by the throat. Ah! you -know, sir, when one tries to murder you, you -have to defend yourself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing more natural, more legitimate, my -dear madame.—Write, M. Rôth—'The courage -and presence of mind of this excellent lady were -truly admirable.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then came Annette's turn, who simply declared -that she had been so frightened she could -remember nothing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This will do," said the provost. "If we -need to make further inquiry, we will return -tomorrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The examination being thus ended, every one -departed, and I asked Mme. Grédel to give me a -room for the night. She did not in the least -recollect ever having seen me before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Annette," she gasped, "take the gentleman -to the little green room in the third story. As -for myself, sir, you see I cannot even stand on my -legs! O good Lord! good Lord! what does not -one have to go through in this world!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With this she fell to sobbing, which seemed to -relieve her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Kasper, Kasper!" cried Annette, when -she had taken me to my room, and we were alone, -"who would have believed that you were one of -the band? I can never, never forgive myself for -having loved a brigand!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How? Annette, you too?" I exclaimed; -"this is too much!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no!" she cried, throwing her arms about -my neck, "you are not one of them—you are too -good for that. Still, you are a brave man just the -same to have come back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I explained to her that I should have died of -cold outside, and that this alone had decided me. -After a few minutes, however, we parted so as -not to arouse Mother Grédel's suspicions, and -having made certain that none of the windows -opened on a wall, and that the bolt on the door -was a good one, I went to bed and soon was fast -asleep.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">II</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When I drew the curtain of my bed next -morning, I saw that the window-panes were white -with snow, which was heaped up also on the sill -without. I thought mournfully of my poor -comrades' fate. How they must have suffered from -cold! Old Bremer and big Berthe especially—my -heart ached for them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While I was absorbed in these sad reflections -a strange noise arose outside. It drew near the -inn, and, not without fear and trembling, I jumped -out of bed and rushed to the window, to see what -new danger threatened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were bringing the terrible band to -confront it with Mme. Grédel Dick. My poor -companions came down the street between two files of -policemen, and followed by a perfect avalanche of -ragamuffins, yelling and hissing like true savages. -There was poor Bremer, handcuffed to his son -Ludwig, then Carl and Wilfrid, and last of all -stout Berthe, who walked by herself, lamenting -her fate all the while in heart-rending tones:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For Heaven's sake, gentlemen, for Heaven's -sake, have pity on a poor innocent harpist! -I—kill! I—rob! Oh! good Lord! can it be possible?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And she wrung her hands. The others looked -doleful enough as they walked with heads bent, -and dishevelled hair hanging over their faces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The procession, rabble and all, turned into the -dark alley which led to the inn. Presently the -guards drove out the eager crowd, who remained -outside in the mud, with their noses flattened -against the window-panes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I dressed myself quickly, and opened my door, -to see if there were not some chance of escape, -but I could hear voices and footsteps going to and -fro down-stairs, and made up my mind that the -passages were well guarded. My door opened on -the landing, just opposite the window which our -midnight visitor of the night before must have -used in his flight. At first I paid no attention to -this window, but, while I remained listening, on a -sudden I perceived that it was open—that there -was but little snow on the sill, and drawing near I -perceived that there were fresh tracks along the -wall. I shuddered at this discovery. The man -had been there again, perhaps he came every -night. The cat, the weasel, the ferret, all such -beasts of prey, have their accustomed paths in this -way. In a moment, everything was clear to my mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah," thought I, "if chance has thus put the -assassin's fate in my hands, my poor comrades may -be saved."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Just at this moment the door of the saloon -was opened, and I could hear some words of the -examination going on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you admit having participated, on the -20th of this month, in the assassination of the -priest Ulmet Elias?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then followed some words which I could not -make out, and the door was closed again. I leaned -my head on the banister, debating in my mind a -great, an heroic resolution, "Heaven has put the -fate of my companions in my hands. I can save -them. If I recoil from such a duty, I shall be -their murderer! my peace of mind, my honour, -will be gone forever! I shall feel myself the most -contemptible of men!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a long time I hesitated, but all at once my -resolution was taken. I descended the stairs and -made my way into the hall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you never seen this watch?" the -provost was saying to Grédel. "Try to -recollect, madame."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Without awaiting her answer, I advanced and -replied myself, in a firm voice: "This watch, sir, -I have seen in the hands of the assassin himself, I -recognise it, and I can deliver the assassin into your -hands this very night, if you will but listen to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Profound silence for a moment followed my -address. The astounded officials looked at each -other; my comrades seemed to revive a little.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who are you, sir?" demanded the provost, -recovering himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am the comrade of these unfortunate men, -and I am not ashamed to own it," I cried, "for all, -all of them, though poor, are honest. Not one of -them is capable of committing the crime they are -accused of."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once more there was silence. The great -Berthe began to sob under her breath. The -provost seemed to reflect. At last, looking at me -sternly, he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where do you pretend you will find the -assassin for us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here, sir, in this house, and, to convince -you, I only ask to speak one moment to you in -private."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come," said he, rising.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He motioned to the chief detective, Madoc, -to follow us, and we went out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I ran quickly up-stairs; the others close -behind me. On the third story, I stopped before -the window, and pointed out the tracks in the -snow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There are the assassin's footsteps," said I. -"This is where he passes every evening. Night -before last he came at two o'clock in the morning. -Last night he was here; no doubt he will return -to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The provost and Madoc looked at the footsteps -for several moments without saying a word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And how do you know these are the footprints -of the murderer?" asked the chief of -police, incredulously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I told them about the man's entrance into -our garret, and pointed out above us the lattice -through which I had watched his flight in the -moonlight. "It was only by accident," I said, -"that I had discovered the footsteps this -morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Strange!" muttered the provost. "This -modifies considerably the position of the prisoners. -But how do you explain the murderer's being -in the cellar?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The murderer was myself, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And I related in a few words the events of the -night before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That will do," said he, and then, turning to -the chief of police, continued:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must confess, Madoc, that these fiddlers' -story has seemed to me by no means conclusive -of their having had anything to do with the -murders. Besides, their papers establish, for several -of them, an </span><em class="italics">alibi</em><span> very hard to disprove.—Still, -young man, though the account you give us has -the appearance of being true, you will remain in -our power until it is verified.—Madoc, do not lose -sight of him, and take your measures accordingly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With this he went down-stairs, collected his -papers, and ordered the prisoners to be taken back -to jail. Then, casting a look of contempt at the -corpulent landlady, he took his departure, followed -by his secretary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Madame," said Madoc, who remained with -two of his men, "you will please preserve the -most profound silence as to what has taken place. -Also, prepare for this brave lad here the same -room he occupied night before last."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His tone admitted of no reply, and Mme. Grédel -promised by all that was sacred to do -whatever they wished, if they would only save -her from the brigands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give yourself no uneasiness about the brigands," -replied Madoc. "We will stay here all -day and all night to protect you. Go quietly about -your affairs, and begin by giving us breakfast.—Young -man, will you do me the honour to breakfast with me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>My situation did not permit me to decline this -offer. I accepted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>We were soon seated in front of a ham and a -bottle of Rhine wine. The chief of police, in -spite of his leaden face—his keen eye and great -nose like the beak of an eagle—was a jolly enough -fellow after a few glasses of wine. He tried to -seize Annette by the waist as she passed. He told -funny stories, at which the others shouted with -laughter. I, however, remained silent, depressed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, young man," said Madoc, with a laugh, -"try to forget the death of your estimable -grandmother. We are all mortal. Take a good drink, -and chase away all these gloomy thoughts."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So the time slipped away, amid clouds of -tobacco-smoke, the jingling of glasses, and -clinking of cans. We sat apart during the day in one -corner of the saloon. Guests came to drink as -usual, but they paid no attention to us. At nine -o'clock, however, after the watchman had gone his -round, Madoc rose.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now," said he, "we must attend to our little -business. Close the door and shutters—softly, -madame, softly. There, you and Mlle. Annette -may go to bed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The chief and his two followers drew from -their pockets bars of iron loaded at the ends with -leaden balls. Madoc put a fresh cap on his pistol, -and placed it carefully in the breast-pocket of his -overcoat, so as to be ready at hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then we mounted to the garret. The too-attentive -Annette had lighted a fire in the stove. -Madoc, muttering an oath between his teeth, -hastened to throw some water on the coals. Then -he pointed to the mattress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you have any mind for it," said he to me, -"you can sleep."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He blew out the candle, and seated himself -with his two acolytes in the back part of the -room against the wall. I threw myself on the -bed, murmuring a prayer that Heaven would send -the assassin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The hours rolled by. Midnight came. The -silence was so profound I could scarcely believe -the three men sat there with eye and ear strained -to catch the least movement—the slightest sound. -Minute after minute passed slowly—slowly. I -could not sleep. A thousand terrible images -chased each other through my brain. One o'clock -struck—two—yet nothing—no one appeared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At three o'clock one of the policemen moved. -I thought the man was coming—but all was silent -again as before. I began to think that Madoc -would take me for an impostor, to imagine how -he would abuse me in the morning. And then -my poor comrades, instead of aiding, I had only -riveted their chains!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The time seemed now to pass only too rapidly. -I wished the night might last forever, so as to -preserve at least a ray of hope for me.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I was going over the same torturing fancies for -the hundredth time—on a sudden, without my -having heard the least sound—the window opened—two -eyes gleamed in the aperture—nothing moved -in the garret.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They have gone to sleep!" thought I, in -an agony of suspense.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The head remained there—motionless—watchful. -The villain must suspect something! -Oh! how my heart thumped—the blood coursed -through my veins! And yet cold beads of -sweat gathered on my forehead. I ceased to -breathe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Several minutes passed thus—then, suddenly, -the man seemed to have decided—-he glided down -into the garret, with the same noiseless caution as -on the previous night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at the same instant a cry—a terrible, short, -thrilling cry—vibrated through the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We have him!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the whole house was shaken from garret -to cellar by cries—the stamping of feet—hoarse -shouts. I was petrified by terror. The man -bellowed—the others drew their breaths in quick -gasps—then came a heavy fall which made the -floor crack—and I heard only the gnashing of -teeth and clink of chains.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Light!" cried the terrible Madoc.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the flame of the burning coals, which cast -a bluish light through the room, I could dimly -see the police-officers crouched over the body -of a man in his shirt-sleeves; one held him -by the throat, the knees of the other rested -upon his chest; Madoc was roughly clasping -the handcuffs on his wrists. The man lay as -if lifeless, save that from time to time one of -his great legs, naked from knee to ankle, was -raised and struck the floor with a convulsive -movement. His eyes were starting from their -sockets—a blood-stained foam had gathered upon -his lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hardly had I lighted the candle when the -officers started back with an exclamation:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our dean!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And all three rose to their feet, looking at each -other with pale faces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The bloodshot eye of the assassin turned towards -Madoc, his lips moved, but only after several -seconds I could hear him murmur:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a dream!—Good God! what a dream!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then a sigh, and he lay motionless again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I drew near to look at him. Yes, it was he, -the man who had overtaken us on the road to -Heidelberg, and advised us to turn back. -Perhaps even then he had a presentiment that we -would be the cause of his ruin. Madoc, who had -recovered from his surprise, seeing that he did not -move, and that a thread of blood was oozing along -the dusty floor, bent over him and tore asunder -the bosom of his shirt; he had stabbed himself to -the heart with his huge knife.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eh!" said Madoc, with a sinister smile. -"Monsieur the dean has cheated the gallows. He -knew where to strike, and has not missed his -mark. Do you stay here," he continued to us. -"I will go and inform the provost."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I remained with the two police agents, watching -the corpse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By eight o'clock next morning all Heidelberg -was electrified with the news. Daniel Van der -Berg, dean of the woollen-drapers, possessed of -wealth and position such as few enjoyed, who -could believe that he had been the terrible assassin?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A hundred different explanations were offered. -Some said the rich dean had been a somnambulist, -and therefore not responsible for his actions—others, -that he had murdered from pure love of -blood—he could have had no other motive for -such a crime. Perhaps both theories were true. -In the somnambulist the will is dead, he is -governed by his animal instincts alone, be they pacific -or sanguinary, and in Master Daniel Van der -Berg, the cruel face, the flat head swollen behind -the ears—the green eyes—the long bristling -mustache, all proved that he unhappily belonged to -the feline family—terrible race, which kills for -the pleasure of killing.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>THE END OF THE DEAN'S WATCH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-portraits-of-erckmann-and-chatrian"><span class="bold large">THE PORTRAITS OF -<br />ERCKMANN AND CHATRIAN</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-left auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 30%" id="figure-74"> -<span id="emile-erckmann-after-a-portrait-by-otto-de-frere-about-1856"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="ÉMILE ERCKMANN. After a portrait by Otto de Frère, about 1856." src="images/img-43.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">ÉMILE ERCKMANN. -<br />After a portrait by Otto de -<br />Frère, about 1856.</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The popular names of -Erckmann-Chatrian, names which -recall so many stirring and -patriotic tales, represent, to -our great regret, only a very -obscure and unæsthetic -iconography. We have but very -few pictures of the authors -of </span><em class="italics">Madame Thérèse</em><span> and -</span><em class="italics">L'Ami Fritz</em><span>. Simple and -rural in their tastes, Erckmann and Chatrian, -without at any time parading that celebrity in which -so many authors of "smart" literature take so -much pride, when in the most brilliant epoch of -their fame still preserved that rustic simplicity -which characterized their first appearance. With -their genial and upright natures these two Alsatians -never thought to put themselves before their -works. They were men of a bygone age, Nature's -philosophers, wise men without vanity. Our task -in respect of them has been difficult, but we hope -not altogether infelicitous. It is not without a -certain satisfaction that, by the side of other -personalities so often popularized, we have been able -by dint of persevering research to discover two or -three portraits of these writers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus we have given as frontispiece two pictures -of these Siamese twins of literature, ingenuously -painted, in timid and awkward strokes, by one of -those travelling professors of the familiar art of -charcoal and pencil, such as were to be seen in the -villages of Alsace about fifty years ago. It -portrays the "Amis Fritz" and the worthy pastors -seated round the tables in the old Gothic inns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A detached portrait of Erckmann by Otto de -Frère, of about the year 1864 or 1865, gives us an -opportunity of studying more closely one of the -collaborators. Émile Erckmann, born in 1822, at -Phalsbourg, has in the portrait before us already -passed his fortieth year. The calm features and -high bald forehead of the professor leave an -impression of gravity and thoughtfulness. A pair of -spectacles which he wears adds to his pedagogical -appearance. Émile Erckmann represents the philosophic -and the contemplative side of this romantic -couple. Born in a town which has given so many -chiefs to the French army, he brought to their joint -work a deep and profound study of the Alsatian -land, together with the silent tenacity of his race. -The confined life of his province, rural and -industrious in times of peace, implacable and ardent in -the hour of strife, finds in -him an able and truthful -historian.</span></p> -<div class="align-right auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 36%" id="figure-75"> -<span id="erckmann-about-1868"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Erckmann. About 1868." src="images/img-45.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Erckmann. -<br />About 1868.</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first portrait of -Émile Erckmann is -contemporary with </span><em class="italics">Madame -Thérèse</em><span>, one of the most -admirable and best known -of their </span><em class="italics">romans nationaux</em><span>. -A second portrait, -which is reproduced here, -seems a trifle older and -of about the year 1868. -That year the Théâtre de Cluny in Paris produced -a piece adapted by the two friends from the novel -</span><em class="italics">Le Juif Polonais</em><span>. Erckmann at that time wore a -beard. His dress, like his appearance, is without -care, but in that serious face and behind those -spectacles there shines the profound and -concentrated look of one accustomed to gaze upon the -waters and the mountains of the Vosges; and the -expression, brilliant as a fixed star, obliterates all -that is crude and inharmonious in this face, which -otherwise reminds one of a German schoolmaster. -In contradistinction to Chatrian, who spent nearly -the whole of his life in Paris and its environs, -Erckmann seems to pine for the green woods and -scenery of that beautiful country where the healthy -and simple people are so much in harmony with -nature. Thus is he shown to us here. His -features remind us both of Taine and Cherbuliez, -though he possessed nothing in common with -them beyond that serene look full of reflection -and deduction. Erckmann worked in Alsace; -Chatrian, on the contrary, whose administrative -duties kept him all day at his desk in Paris, could -indulge his taste for novel-writing only in the -evenings, occasionally stealing a few hours in the day -out of the time which he was bound to devote to -his Government work. To the calm and quietude -of his companion Chatrian added the animation of -an ardent and inventive spirit. To the reflective -and poetic talent of Erckmann, he opposed the -hastiness of his own dashing and spontaneous -genius. To his pen, no doubt, can be assigned all -those parts where the story, leaving the description -of rustic life, plunges boldly into dramatic action.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A double portrait, from a photograph taken -about 1874, depicts them in the constrained -attitude characteristic of the work of Daguerre and -his followers. Doubtless they were together in -that little house at Raincy, where they often met -to discuss the plot of some new work, and where -the photographer must have invaded their privacy.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 68%" id="figure-76"> -<span id="erckmann-and-chatrian-about-1874-after-a-photograph"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="ERCKMANN AND CHATRIAN. About 1874. (After a photograph)" src="images/img-47.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">ERCKMANN AND CHATRIAN. -<br />About 1874. (After a photograph)</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Only once did I see that little garden at -Raincy," writes one of their friends, "but I can -see again the kindly, portly Erckmann seated -under the shade of a cherry-tree, a picture which later -on I saw reproduced again at the Théâtre Français -in </span><em class="italics">L'Ami Fritz</em><span>—Erckmann with his calm face -and shrewd eyes, smoking his pipe, and throwing -out philosophical theories between the whiffs of -tobacco. He is, as it were, the dream, and -Chatrian the reality in this partnership. Erckmann -would willingly have kept to the fantastic tales of -their early days, but it was Chatrian, the type of -the soldier, with the mustache and face of a -somewhat harsh-looking non-commissioned officer, and -a strict disciplinarian, who directed the collaboration -towards the Napoleonic era and the national -chronicles. This, in a measure, explains the -portraits and helps us to show them both, united in a -work simultaneously conceived, both simple and -great in their baffling expression, happy in knowing -themselves understood by the multitude of the -poor and humble. That photograph dates from -the representation of </span><em class="italics">L'Ami Fritz</em><span> in the Théâtre -Français.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After the defeat of the Alsatians these poets, -deeply touched, sing to us in their heartfelt words -of the picturesqueness of their mountains and -forests, henceforth to be under German rule. At -that moment (and it is also the last portrait we -have been able to find) Erckmann is aged, his -beard and mustache are silvered, his appearance -no longer that of a professor, but rather that of an -old officer whom the close of the war has thrown -out of employment. Chatrian, on the other hand, -though only four years his junior, with hair and -beard still abundant, seems alive with vigour and -strength. His glance is keen, frank, and loyal, his -face open and bold, his attitude full of energy. -No picture could express better than this the -striking contrast between two temperaments so -widely dissimilar, and yet so well designed to -supplement each other and form a complete whole.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 49%" id="figure-77"> -<span id="erckmann-and-chatrian-after-a-caricature-by-andre-gill-1879"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="ERCKMANN AND CHATRIAN. After a caricature by André Gill, 1879." src="images/img-49.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">ERCKMANN AND CHATRIAN. -<br />After a caricature by André Gill, 1879.</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>André Gill, in a typical and humorous caricature, -has admirably shown the expressions of the -two writers as their faces appear above a jug of -beer, each with an Alsatian pipe in his mouth. A -peaceful happiness marks their brotherly features. -They are enjoying the dramatic successes of the -</span><em class="italics">Rantzau</em><span> and Madame Thérèse. The final -disagreement, which did not happen until 1890, at -Villemomble, and which ended only with -Chatrian's death, had not yet come, like a detestable -intruder, to separate those two strong characters. -Their dreams, their work, and their successes were -still joint property at the time Andre Gill drew -this caricature. The two writers have been termed -the "Siamese twins" of historical romance. One -cannot understand why these two figures, so full -of contrast, were never delineated in painting nor -sculpture, in view of the large measure of success -which directed attention to their names. Such -incomprehensible mysteries do sometimes occur in -the lives of celebrated men, and we fail to find the -solution of the enigma, which forces us to admit -that Erckmann and Chatrian left us no portraits, -no important engravings, no great popular -lithographs, nor any medallions or busts. If ever -posterity thinks of raising a monument to the -memory of these two curious writers, the artist to -whom the task is assigned will have some difficulty -in finding any other valid and interesting documents -than the few pictures which are collected here.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>OCTAVE UZANNE.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>THE END</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>BRIGADIER FREDERICK, THE DEAN'S WATCH</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50186"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50186</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. -Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this -license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works to protect the Project Gutenberg™ concept and -trademark. 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