Chapter III: Part 3

A cold shiver ran down my back, and as he said no more I murmured:

"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."

Then, smiling bitterly and running his hands through his thick brown hair, he cried:

"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."

I answered nothing, and then, seating himself, he cried:

"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."

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:

"And now, what are we to do, sir?"

"Remain at your posts like brave fellows," he said. "I have no other orders to give you."

Something choked me; he saw that, and, looking at me with moistened eyes, he held out his hand to me, saying:

"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 _our_ recompense."

And I said, deeply moved:

"Yes, sir, yes, that is all which remains to us, and that will never be lacking."

He did me the honour to accompany me down the walk to the gate, and again pressing my hand, he cried:

"Courage! courage!"

Then I set off again, descending the great valley. The rain covered the pool of the Fromuehle, which was quivering all gray among the willows and the parched herbage.

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:

"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."

And I marched on.

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."

But I said nothing, and, throwing my cape, all streaming with rain, on the back of a chair, and shaking my cap, I cried:

"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."

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:

"I have kept your soup near the fire, and it is still hot if you would like something to eat, father."

"Bah! I am not hungry," I answered; "let us go to bed: it is late, and that is the best thing to do."

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.

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:

"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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

You can easily picture to yourself that immense army of Prince Frederick; Bavarians, Wuertemburgers, 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.

*XIII*

After the grand passage of the German army and the bombardment of the city, thousands of _landwehr_ 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 _blouse_ and carrying a stick.

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.

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.

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 _gens-d'armes_ 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.

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.

By such means Bismark Bohlen could dispense with all other explanations touching the races, the German fatherland, and the rights of his Majesty.

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.

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.

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:

"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."

He observed this order himself, staying at Petite Pierre and continuing to fulfil the duties of his office.

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!"

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.

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:

"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?"

I imagined great battles. The grandmother also was very uneasy; she sat by the window and said:

"Listen, Frederick, do you hear nothing?"

And I listened; it was only the wind among the dry leaves.

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.

I have nothing more to tell you about this autumn of 1870; no news, no visits, and towards the last but little hope.

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.

*XIV*

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.

We looked at them in amazement, thinking, "What does all this mean? What are these people coming to do among us?"

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.

"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."

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:

"Herminia, look at those forests, those meadows, this rich Alsace. We are in the terrestrial paradise."

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.

But we were destined to see many more of them, for these strangers, in old _cabriolets_, basket wagons, _chars-a-banc_, 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 _queues_ of our grandfathers.

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.

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.

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.

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 _landwehr_ 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.

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."

One would have said that it was all agreed upon beforehand, for it happened so even before the capitulation of Strasburg.

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!

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:

"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."

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.

There always remained to them during the time that I was still down yonder an old remembrance of the Lorempe 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.

*XV*

One day, towards the end of October, one of the _gens-d'armes_ of Bismark Bohlen, who passed every morning through the valley, halted at the door of the forest house, calling:

"Hillo, somebody!" I went out.

"You are the Brigadier Frederick?" asked the man.

"Yes," I answered, "my name is Frederick, and I am a brigadier forester."

"All right," said he, holding out a letter; "here is something for you."

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:

"What can those Prussians want with me?"

It was an order from the Oberfoerster,[#] 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.

[#] Chief Inspector of the forest.

"What are you going to do, father?" asked Marie-Rose, after a pause.

"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."

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.

"Good morning, Marie-Rose," said he, "good morning, grandmother. You have received the order from the Oberfoerster, brigadier?"

"Yes."

"Ah!" said he, "those people have no confidence in us; all the foresters have received the same thing. Shall we go?"

"We must see about it," I said; "you must go to Petite Pierre and ask the advice of our inspector."

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.

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 _landwehr_ 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.

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.

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.

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 Oberfoerster 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 Oberfoerster 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.

After having shaken hands, it was decided that we should listen to the remarks of the Oberfoerster 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.

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:

"You may come in."

After traversing a long room, we found the Oberfoerster 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:

"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!"

In the side room the guests were laughing; this forced the Oberfoerster to interrupt himself:

"Wilhelm, shut the door!" said he to the servant who had let us in. The waiter obeyed, and the Oberfoerster continued:

"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!"

Then the Oberfoerster, 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:

"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 Oberfoerster that all will be done according to the promises I have just made you."

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.

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.

The Oberfoerster having ended, he looked at us fixedly; at me in particular, and he said:

"Well! you may speak; I authorize you to speak."

Then I answered:

"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."

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:

"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!"

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.

"Twenty-four hours," he repeated, rising; "not another minute." And, throwing his napkin on the table angrily, he added:

"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."

So he entered the next room, while we went out by the vestibule.

What the Oberfoerster 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.

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:

"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."

Big Kern insisted upon knowing what I thought; several of them gathered around me, so I finally said:

"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."

And seeing poor Jacob Hepp, the father of six small children, standing with drooping head, hanging arms, and cast-down eyes, I said:

"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."

Several of us kissed each other, and at that place we parted.

*XVI*

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.

On leaving Zornstadt, we ascended the hill of Bruyeres 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.

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.

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.

When I saw that I said to myself:

"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 Dosenheim. 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."

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.

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:

"I am looking at my old abode for the last time; to-morrow the Oberfoerster 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?"

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."

"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."

*XVII*

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.

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.

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.

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 Oberfoerster 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.

I was sure that they would choose poverty. Marie-Rose, deadly pale, lifted her hands to Heaven, murmuring:

"My God! is it possible? Do such rascals exist in the world? Ah! I would rather die than join such a company of wretches!"

It pleased me to see that my daughter had a brave heart, and Jean Merlin was so touched that I saw his lip quiver.

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 Oberfoerster, if we refused to serve Prussia, gave us twenty-four hours to leave our home, her indignation burst forth all at once.

"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 Duchene, 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 Dosenheim and the paths of Toementhal; 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!"

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?

When she sat down again, all out of breath, I asked her, in a very sad but firm voice:

"Grandmother, do you wish me to accept service with the Germans?"

"No!" said she.

"Then within forty-eight hours we must all leave together this old house."

"Never!" she cried. "I will not!"

"And I tell you it must be," said I, with an aching heart. "I _will_ have it so."

"Ah!" she cried, with painful surprise.

And I continued, with anguish:

"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!"

She burst into tears and sobbed out:

"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?"

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.

*XVIII*

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.

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:

"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."

Merlin turned pale as he listened to me, and he answered, in a gruff voice:

"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."

And, rising and opening his arms, he cried: "Marie-Rose!"

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:

"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."

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, Oberfoerster, we will not enter the service of the King of Prussia!" I wrote my letter at once and he put it in his pocket.

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.

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 Toementhal 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.

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!

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.

"Sit down, Calas," I said; "eat alone; none of us are hungry this evening."

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.

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.

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.

Some people would like to change these things, but no one has the courage and the good sense which are necessary.

Finally, at nightfall we separated, to think over, each alone in his corner, the terrible blow that had overwhelmed us.

*XIX*

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.

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.

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.

When I discovered him, his little green eyes were already fixed upon me.

"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."

"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?"

"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!"

And he uttered a harsh laugh, gnashing his old teeth and muttering:

"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!"

"Then," said I, "the rooms are empty?"

"Yes, and the stable, too, with the hayloft. But why do you ask me that?"

"Because I have come to hire them."

"You!" cried he, in amazement. "Then you are not going to stay at the forest house?"

"No, the Prussians have turned me out."

"Turned you out! And why?"

"Because I did not choose to serve under the Germans."

Then Ykel appeared touched; his long hooked nose curved itself over his mouth, and, in a grave voice, he said:

"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."

Then he called:

"Katel! Katel!"

And his daughter, who had just lighted the fire on the hearth, entered.

"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."

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.

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.

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.