THE CONQUEROR'S SWAY--GIDDY GILBERTE
At the Delaherches' house in the Rue Maqua at Sedan, life had started
on a new lease after the terrible shocks of the battle and the
capitulation, and for nearly four months now the days had been slowly
slipping by under the gloomy, oppressive sway of the conquerors.
There was, however, one corner of the vast factory buildings which
remained closed as though untenanted; it was the room which Colonel de
Vineuil still occupied, a room overlooking the street at one end of the
principal apartments. Whilst other windows were often thrown open and
gave egress to sounds of coming and going, to all the buzz and stir of
life, those of this particular chamber remained condemned, dead as it
were, with their shutters invariably closed. The colonel had complained
of his eyes paining him, especially when exposed to the daylight. No
one knew whether he told the truth or not, but to humour him a lamp was
kept burning, day and night, at his bedside. Although Major Bouroche
had only found a crack in his ankle, the wound refused to heal, and
all sorts of complications having ensued he had been compelled to
remain in bed during two long months. He was now able to get up; but
his mental prostration remained very great, and he had been attacked
by a mysterious ailment which proved so tenacious and invading that he
spent his days lying upon a couch in front of a large wood fire. He
was wasting away, becoming a mere shadow; yet the doctor who attended
him and whom his condition greatly surprised could find no lesion to
account for this slow death. Such indeed it was; like the flame of a
lamp whose oil is almost exhausted, the colonel was fading away.
Madame Delaherche senior had shut herself up with him on the morrow of
the capitulation. Doubtless they had briefly and once for all come to
an understanding as to their desire to cloister themselves together in
that room, so long as any Prussians should be billeted in the house.
Several Germans had spent a few nights there, and a captain, Herr
von Gartlauben, was quartered there permanently. However, neither
the colonel nor the old lady had ever again spoken of these matters.
She rose every morning at daybreak, despite her eight-and-seventy
years, and came and seated herself in an armchair in front of her old
friend, on the other side of the fireplace; and there, by the steady
lamp-light, she would sit knitting stockings for the children of the
poor, whilst the colonel, with his eyes fixed on the embers, remained
unoccupied, in a state of increasing stupor, seemingly living and
dying from one and the same thought. They certainly did not exchange
twenty words a day; he silenced her with a wave of the hand whenever
she involuntarily alluded to any news from the outside world--news that
she picked up when she occasionally went about the house. And thus no
further tidings penetrated to that chamber, no news of the siege of
Paris, of the defeats on the Loire, the daily renewed afflictions of
the invasion. And yet, although the colonel in his voluntary entombment
refused to look upon the light of day, although he closed his eyes and
stopped his ears, it was all of no avail; some rumour of the frightful
disasters, the deadly mourning, must have stolen through chink and
crevice into the room, have been wafted to him by the very air he
breathed; for hour by hour he was as though poisoned afresh and drew
nearer and nearer unto death.
Meantime, in the broad daylight, Delaherche, with his need of life was
bestirring himself and endeavouring to reopen his factory. There was so
much confusion, however, with regard both to workmen and customers that
he had as yet only been able to set a few looms going; and by way of
employing his gloomy, enforced leisure it had occurred to him to make a
complete inventory of his belongings and to study certain improvements
which he had long thought of introducing into his business. To assist
him in this work he had at his elbow a young fellow, a customer's
son, who had stranded in his house after the battle. Edmond Lagarde,
who had grown up at Passy in his father's little drapery shop, and
who at three-and-twenty years of age--though he looked hardly more
than eighteen--was a sergeant in the 5th of the Line, had fought so
valiantly and stubbornly on the day of the battle that he had only
come into the town by the Ménil gate at about five o'clock, and then
with his left arm broken by one of the last bullets that the enemy
had fired. Since the other wounded had been removed from the sheds,
Delaherche had good-naturedly kept the young fellow with him, so that
Edmond formed one of the family, eating, sleeping, and living in the
house, and, now that his wound was healed, acting as secretary to the
manufacturer, pending the time when he might get back to Paris. Thanks
to Delaherche's protection and his own formal promise that he would not
abscond, the Prussian authorities did not interfere with him. He was
fair, with blue eyes, as pretty as a girl, and so shy and timid that he
was for ever blushing. His mother had brought him up, stinting herself
and expending the profits of their little business in paying for his
terms at college. He was extremely fond of Paris, which he spoke of
with passionate regretfulness, when talking with Gilberte, who had
nursed this wounded Chérubin[45] like a comrade.
Finally, the house had yet another new inmate, Herr von Gartlauben, a
captain in the Landwehr, whose regiment was now quartered at Sedan in
place of the regular troops. Despite his modest rank, the captain was
a personage of importance, for he was nephew to the Governor-General
of Champagne whom the Germans had set up at Rheims, and who exercised
unlimited power over the entire region. Herr von Gartlauben also prided
himself upon being fond of Paris, upon having lived there, and upon
being acquainted both with its courtesies and its refinements; and
indeed he affected the irreproachable bearing of a well-bred man, a
polish under which he strove to conceal his natural coarseness. Tall
and fat, he was always tightly buttoned up in his uniform, and lied
outrageously about his age, being quite in despair that he should have
already reached five-and-forty. Had he been more intelligent he might
have proved a terrible customer, but his vanity kept him in a state
of imperturbable self-satisfaction, and he was quite incapable of
imagining that anybody could trifle with him.
Later on, he proved a veritable saviour for Delaherche. But how doleful
were the earlier days following upon the capitulation! Overrun, peopled
with German soldiers, Sedan trembled with the fear of pillage. Then,
however, the victorious troops streamed back to the valley of the Seine
again, only a garrison being left behind, and the town sank into the
deadly quiet of a necropolis; the houses invariably closed, the shops
shut, the streets deserted as soon as the twilight fell, and from
that moment re-echoing only the heavy footsteps and hoarse calls of
the patrols. Not a newspaper, not a letter arrived. In the ignorance
and anguish that prevailed respecting the fresh disasters which were
felt to be at hand, the town was like a walled-up dungeon, suddenly
shut off from the rest of France. To render their misery complete
the townsfolk were threatened with a dearth of provisions; and one
morning indeed they awoke with no bread and no meat. It was as though
a swarm of locusts had passed that way, the whole district having been
stripped bare by the hundreds of thousands of men who for a week past
had been pouring through it like a torrent. Having only two days'
provisions left, the town had to apply to Belgium for sustenance; and
now everything came from the neighbouring country, across the open
frontier whence the customs' service had disappeared, carried off in
the catastrophe like everything else. Then, too, there were endless
vexatious measures, a struggle which began afresh every morning
between the Prussian Commandature established at the Sub-Prefecture
and the Municipal Council sitting _en permanence_ at the Town Hall.
The resistance which the members of the latter offered was heroic, but
it was in vain that they argued and contested the ground inch by inch;
the inhabitants were fast succumbing beneath the enemy's ever-growing
demands, the fancifulness and excessive frequency of the requisitions.
During the earlier days Delaherche suffered a good deal from the
soldiers and officers who were billeted on him. Men from all the
various German states defiled through his house smoking their big
pipes. Not a day passed but two or three thousand soldiers, infantry,
cavalry, artillery, fell unexpectedly upon the town, and although
they were by right only entitled to shelter and firing, it was often
necessary to run about and procure provisions for them. They left the
rooms which they occupied in a repulsively filthy state. The officers
often came home drunk, and proved more insufferable even than their
men. Discipline, however, so restrained the foreigners, that acts
of violence and pillage were of rare occurrence. In all Sedan only
two women were reported to have been violated. It was not till later
on, when Paris supplied proof of its determination to resist, that
the Germans made their domination severely felt, exasperated as they
were at finding the struggle prolonged, anxious too with regard to
the demeanour of the provinces, fearing a rising _en masse_ of the
population, and a general, wolfish warfare such as the Francs-tireurs
had already declared against them.
Delaherche had just been lodging a major of cuirassiers, who slept
in his boots and went away leaving his room one mass of filth, when
Captain von Gartlauben presented himself at the factory one evening in
the second fortnight of September, when the rain was pouring down like
a deluge. The first hour was somewhat unpleasant. The captain began
bawling, demanded the best room in the house, and dragged his sabre
with a clatter up the stairs. Having caught sight of Gilberte, however,
he became decorous in his behaviour, shut himself up in his room, and
in passing in and out would depart from his rigid demeanour to bow to
her politely. He was treated with great deference, for it was known
that a word from him to the colonel commanding Sedan would suffice to
secure the abatement of a requisition or the release of a prisoner.
His uncle, the Governor-General at Rheims, had recently launched a
ferocious proclamation, decreeing not only the state of siege, but
also the penalty of death for every person shown to have assisted the
'enemy,' whether as a spy, or by leading the German troops astray when
appointed to guide them, or by destroying the bridges and cannons, or
by damaging the telegraph wires and the railway lines. The 'enemy' of
course was the French; and the hearts of the inhabitants bounded with
indignation when, on the gate of the Commandature, they read the large
white placard, which converted their anguish and their hopes into
crimes. It was already terribly hard to be informed of the fresh German
victories by the cheers of the garrison. In this wise every day almost
brought its affliction; the soldiers would light large fires, sing, and
get drunk throughout the night, whilst the inhabitants, compelled to be
within doors by nine o'clock, listened to the revelry from the depths
of their dark houses, distracted by the uncertainty in which they
were plunged, but divining some fresh misfortune. It was on one of
these occasions, about the middle of October, that Herr von Gartlauben
for the first time gave proof of some delicacy of feeling. Since the
morning Sedan had been awakening to hope again, for there were rumours
abroad of a great victory achieved by the army of the Loire on its way
to relieve Paris. Ofttime already, however, the best of news had become
transformed into tidings of disaster, and in the same way it was learnt
that evening that the Bavarian army had secured possession of Orleans.
Some soldiers in one of the houses of the Rue Maqua, just in front
of the factory, thereupon began brawling so loudly that the captain,
seeing Gilberte greatly affected, went and silenced the men, being
himself of opinion that such an uproar was uncalled for.
The month went by, and Herr von Gartlauben had occasion to render a
few more little services. The Prussian authorities had reorganised
the various governmental departments and a German sub-prefect had
been installed at Sedan, though this did not prevent the vexatious
measures from continuing, albeit the new functionary showed himself
comparatively reasonable. Among the many difficulties which constantly
arose between the Commandature and the Municipal Council, a frequent
cause of trouble was the requisition of vehicles; and quite a to-do
arose one morning when Delaherche was unable to send his calash and
pair to the Sub-Prefecture. The mayor was momentarily arrested, and the
manufacturer would have been sent to keep him company in the citadel,
had it not been for Captain von Gartlauben, whose intervention at once
appeased the wrath of the authorities. On another occasion, at his
intercession, the town was granted a delay for the payment of a fine of
thirty thousand francs imposed upon it as a punishment for its alleged
dilatoriness in rebuilding the Villette bridge, a bridge destroyed
by the Prussians themselves--altogether a deplorable business, which
half ruined Sedan and turned it topsy-turvy. It was, however, more
particularly after the fall of Metz that Delaherche contracted a debt
of gratitude towards the captain. The frightful tidings fell like a
thunderbolt upon the inhabitants, annihilating their last hopes; and
the very next week the town was again burdened with passing troops,
all the torrent of men that streamed down from Metz--Prince Frederick
Charles's army directing its course towards the Loire, General von
Manteuffel's army marching on Amiens and Rouen, and other corps on
their way to reinforce the besiegers around Paris. For several days
the houses were full of soldiers, the bakers' and butchers' shops were
swept bare to the last crumb, the last bone, whilst the paving of the
streets exhaled a greasy stench such as might have followed the passage
of vast migrating flocks and herds. The factory in the Rue Maqua alone
did not suffer from this irruption of human cattle, protected as it
was by a friendly hand, and required to shelter merely a few well-bred
officers.
It thus happened that Delaherche ended by departing from his frosty
demeanour. The middle-class families of the town had shut themselves
up in their most remote rooms, avoiding all intercourse with the
officers quartered upon them. But with his irrepressible longing to
talk, please, and enjoy life, this part of the antagonist sulking after
defeat caused the manufacturer intense suffering. His large bleak,
silent, house, whose inmates lived apart from one another, swayed by
unbending rancour, made him feel quite miserable. And so one day he
began by stopping Herr von Gartlauben on the stairs to thank him for
the services he had rendered. Then, little by little, they fell into
the habit of exchanging a few words whenever they met; and at last
the Prussian captain found himself one evening in the manufacturer's
private room, smoking a cigar and chatting in friendly fashion, whilst
comfortably seated beside the fireplace, where some large oak logs were
burning. Gilberte did not show herself during the first fortnight,
and the captain pretended to be ignorant of her very existence,
although at the slightest sound he would at once glance towards the
door of the adjoining room. He seemed desirous of making his host
forget that he was one of the conquerors, showed himself unprejudiced
and liberal-minded, and was always ready to laugh and jest whenever
the conversation turned on any ridiculous requisitions. One day, for
instance, when a demand had been made for a coffin and a bandage,
this bandage and coffin vastly amused him. With regard to other
things, coal, oil, milk, sugar, butter, bread, meat, to say nothing of
clothing, stoves, and lamps--in a word all the necessaries of daily
life, he simply shrugged his shoulders: What would you have? These
demands were vexatious, no doubt, and he even admitted that they were
excessive; but then this was wartime and the troops must needs live in
the occupied territory. Delaherche, whom the incessant requisitions
exasperated, spoke out frankly concerning them, passing them in review
every evening, in much the same way as he might have gone through his
household accounts. Still they only had one lively discussion together,
which was in reference to a fine of a million francs which the Prussian
prefect of Rethel had levied upon the department of the Ardennes under
pretence of compensating Germany for the losses she was alleged to
have sustained by the operations of the French fleet and the expulsion
of the German subjects resident in France. Of this amount Sedan was
required to contribute 42,000 francs, and Delaherche did his utmost
to make his lodger understand that this was an iniquitous demand, the
town being differently circumstanced to others, since it had already
undergone such excessive suffering. The result of all these discussions
was to increase the intimacy of the two men; the manufacturer, on his
side, was delighted at having been able to shake off his thoughts by
pouring forth a flood of words, whilst the Prussian was pleased with
himself for having given proof of a truly Parisian urbanity.
One evening Gilberte came into the room with her gay giddy air, and
at sight of the captain stopped short, affecting surprise. Herr von
Gartlauben rose from his chair, and with commendable tact withdrew
almost immediately. But on the following day he found Gilberte already
installed in the room, and thereupon settled himself in his usual seat
by the fireside. Some delightful evenings followed, invariably spent in
this private room instead of in the drawing-room, wherein lay a nice
distinction with regard to the character of the intercourse. Later on
even, when the young woman had consented to play the piano to gratify
the captain, who was extremely fond of music, she alone would step
into the adjoining _salon_, leaving the door open. During those bitter
winter evenings the old oaks of the Ardennes crackled and blazed in the
lofty fireplace, and about ten o'clock they would drink a cup of tea,
whilst chatting together in the warm atmosphere of that cosy room. And,
plainly enough, Herr von Gartlauben had fallen head over heels in love
with that sprightly young woman, who flirted with him just as in days
gone by she had flirted with Captain Beaudoin's friends at Charleville.
He now took additional care of his person, displayed exaggerated
gallantry, and contented himself with the slightest favour, above all
things anxious that he might not be taken for a barbarian--one of those
gross-minded soldiers who cannot treat a woman with respect.
Thus life had, so to say, a double aspect in that vast, black house
of the Rue Maqua. Whilst Edmond, the wounded Chérubin with the pretty
face, returned monosyllabic answers to Delaherche's ceaseless chatter
at meal-time, and blushed like a hobbledehoy if Gilberte merely asked
him to pass the salt; whilst Herr von Gartlauben, with enraptured eyes,
sat in the study of an evening listening to one of Mozart's sonatas,
which the young woman was playing for his especial benefit in the
drawing-room, the adjacent apartment, where Colonel de Vineuil and
Madame Delaherche senior spent their time, remained quite silent, with
the shutters always closed, the lamp always burning, as though it were
a tomb lighted by a taper. December had buried Sedan under the snow,
and the despair-fraught tidings from the scene of war were as though
stifled by the bitter cold. After General Ducrot's defeat at Champigny,
after the loss of Orleans, there remained but one sombre hope, that the
soil of France might become an avenging soil, an exterminating soil
to devour and swallow up the victors. Ah! that the snow might fall
in thicker and thicker flakes, that the ground might rend and open
under the biting frost, so that the whole of Germany might be entombed
within it! And now a fresh sorrow was wringing old Madame Delaherche's
heart. Whilst passing Gilberte's door one night when her son was from
home, called away to Belgium by some business matter or other, she had
heard a low murmur of voices, mingled with suppressed laughter. She
staggered back into her own room, quite aghast, overcome by the horror
of the abominable thing which she suspected. The voice she had heard
could have been none other than the Prussian's; she had already fancied
that she had detected glances of intelligence passing between him and
Gilberte, and the thought of this supreme shame utterly overwhelmed
her. Ah! that woman whom her son had brought into the house despite
all her remonstrances, that abandoned woman whom she had already
pardoned once by not speaking out after Captain Beaudoin's death! Yet
it was all certainly beginning again, and this time the infamy was
unparalleled! What should she do? Such monstrous behaviour could not
be allowed to continue. The seclusion in which the old lady lived now
became fraught with more poignant sorrow, and she spent long days in
waging a frightful combat with herself. She would enter the colonel's
room looking yet more gloomy than had been her wont, and sit there for
hours in silence, with tears in her eyes; and he would gaze at her and
interpret her increased sadness as signifying that France had sustained
yet another defeat.
It was in the midst of this crisis that Henriette arrived one
morning at the house in the Rue Maqua with the view of enlisting the
Delaherches' sympathies in favour of uncle Fouchard. She had heard
people speak smilingly of Gilberte's all-powerful influence over
Captain von Gartlauben, and consequently felt somewhat embarrassed when
on ascending the stairs she encountered Madame Delaherche senior, who
was returning to the colonel's room. However, she deemed it advisable
to acquaint the old lady with the object of her visit.
'Oh! madame,' said she, 'if you would only be kind enough to assist
me! My uncle is in a terrible position; they talk of sending him to
Germany.'
Much as the old lady liked Henriette, she could not restrain an angry
gesture: 'But I am powerless to help you, my dear child. It is of
no use applying to me.' And then, despite the young woman's evident
distress, she added: 'Your visit is very ill-timed; my son is going to
Brussels this evening. Besides, he has no more influence than I have.
Apply to my daughter-in-law, she can do everything.'
Then off she went, leaving Henriette thunderstruck, fully convinced
that she was falling into the midst of a family drama. On the previous
evening, indeed, Madame Delaherche senior had resolved to communicate
her suspicions to her son before his departure for Belgium, whither
he was going to negotiate a large purchase of coal, in the hope of
being able to start his power-looms again. She would never allow that
abominable intrigue to be carried on during his absence, under the same
roof as herself. And before speaking out she only wished to make quite
certain that he would not again defer his departure as he had been
doing, day after day, during an entire week. The course she proposed
to take meant, she realised it, the downfall of the entire house, the
Prussian driven away, the young woman also thrown into the street and
her name ignominiously placarded on the walls, as had been threatened
would be done with regard to every Frenchwoman who might yield to the
advances of a German.
When Gilberte perceived Henriette she gave a cry of delight. 'Ah! how
glad I am to see you! It seems so long since you went away, and all
these dreadful things make one feel so old!'
She led her into her room, made her sit down on a couch there and
ensconced herself close beside her: 'Come, you must breakfast with us,'
she said. 'But first of all let us have a chat together. You must have
so many things to tell me? I know that you have had no news of your
brother. Poor Maurice! how I pity him, shut up in Paris like that,
with no gas, no wood, and perhaps no bread! And that soldier, too,
your brother's friend, whom you are nursing? You see that people have
already been chattering to me. Is it on his account you've come?'
Greatly perturbed, Henriette did not at first answer her friend. After
all, was it not really on Jean's account that she had come there, to
make certain indeed that her dear patient would not be molested when
her uncle had been set at liberty? To hear Gilberte speak of him,
however, had filled her with confusion, and she no longer dared to
reveal the true motive of her visit; her conscience pricked her--she
recoiled from the thought of enlisting in Jean's behalf such an
equivocal influence as that with which she credited Gilberte. 'And so,'
repeated the latter, with a malicious air, 'it's for that soldier that
you need our assistance?' Then as Henriette, brought to bay, at last
began speaking of old Fouchard's arrest, she promptly interrupted her:
'Oh! yes--how foolish of me to have forgotten; why I was talking of the
matter only this morning. You have done well to come, my dear; your
uncle's case must be seen to at once, for the last information that I
have had is not at all favourable. They wish to make an example.'
'Yes, I thought of you,' continued Henriette in a hesitating way. 'I
thought that you might give me some good advice, perhaps be able to
intercede----'
Gilberte burst out laughing: 'Why, you silly, I'll have your uncle set
at liberty within three days! Haven't you heard that I have a Prussian
captain quartered here who does whatever I ask? You hear, my dear, he
can refuse me nothing!'
And thereupon, like a madcap enjoying the triumph of her coquetry,
she laughed louder than ever, holding and patting the hands of her
friend, who could not utter a word of thanks, so disturbed she was, so
tormented by the fear that Gilberte's words might be intended as an
avowal. And yet how serene and blithe the young woman appeared!
'Let me attend to it all,' added Gilberte. 'I'll send you home happy
this evening.'
When they entered the dining-room Henriette was greatly struck by the
delicate feminine beauty of Edmond, whom she had never previously seen.
He enchanted her, as one is enchanted by the sight of a pretty object.
Was it possible that this lad had really fought, and that the Germans
had been so cruel as to break his arm? The legend of his great bravery
rendered him all the more charming, and, whilst the servant was serving
mutton chops and baked potatoes, Delaherche, who had given Henriette
the cordial greeting of a man to whom the sight of a new face is a
godsend, did not cease praising his secretary; Edmond, said he, had
proved as industrious and well-behaved as he was handsome. And thus
the repast in the warm spacious dining-room promptly took a turn of
delightful intimacy.
'And so you came over with a view of enlisting our services in father
Fouchard's case?' resumed the manufacturer. 'I'm sorry that I'm obliged
to go away this evening. But my wife will settle the matter for you;
she's irresistible; she has only to ask for a thing to get it.' He said
this laughing, in all simplicity, as though flattered that Gilberte
should possess such influence, which he was at times vain enough to
ascribe to himself. Then, all at once, he asked: 'By the way, my dear,
has Edmond told you of his discovery?'
'No; what discovery?' asked Gilberte gaily, turning her beautiful
caressing eyes upon the young sergeant.
The latter blushed as was his wont whenever a pretty woman looked at
him: 'Oh! madame, it's merely a question of some old lace. You were
regretting the other day that you had none to trim your mauve wrapper
with, and I was lucky enough yesterday to come upon five yards of old
Bruges, something really handsome and cheap as well. The dealer is
coming to show it to you by-and-by.'
She was delighted. 'How nice of you!' said she; 'you deserve a reward.'
Then, whilst a _terrine_ of _foie-gras_, purchased in Belgium, was
being served, the conversation took another turn; some allusion was
made to the fish which were dying in the Meuse, poisoned by the
corrupt state of the water; and Delaherche then spoke of the danger
of pestilence to which Sedan would be exposed as soon as there should
be a thaw. There, had been several cases of disease of an epidemical
character already in November. Six thousand francs had been spent
in cleansing the town after the battle; the knapsacks, cartridge
pouches, in fact all the suspicious wreckage that could be found had
been burnt in heaps, but as soon as the weather became at all damp the
most abominable stenches were wafted from the surrounding country-side,
where such a multitude of corpses had been half-buried, with merely a
few inches of earth thrown over them. Many of the fields were quite
bumpy with graves, and an internal pressure cracked and split the soil
whence all the gases of putrefaction issued and spread around. And only
a few days previously another source of infection had been discovered
in the Meuse, although the carcases of more than twelve hundred horses
had already been removed from it. It had been generally believed that
not a corpse remained in the river, but, one day, on gazing into it
attentively, at a point where it was only six or seven feet deep, a
rural guard espied some whitish objects which he at first took for
stones. They proved, however, to be corpses, corpses in layers, bodies
which had been ripped open and which, as inflation was impossible,
had not risen to the surface. They had therefore been lying among the
herbage in that water during nearly four months. Arms, legs, and heads
were brought up with boat-hooks; and at times the mere strength of the
current would suffice to detach a hand. The water became turbid, and
big bubbles of gas rose to the surface and burst, poisoning the air
around with a disgusting stench.
'It will be all right so long as it freezes,' observed Delaherche. 'But
as soon as the snow disappears there will have to be a thorough search
and cleansing, or else we shall all be carried off.' Then, upon his
wife begging him with a laugh to talk of some less unpleasant subject
at table, he concluded with the remark: 'Well, we shall have to do
without fish from the Meuse for a long time.'
They had finished their meal, and the coffee was being served, when the
maid announced that Herr von Gartlauben requested permission to see
them for a moment. This caused quite a flutter, for the captain had
never previously presented himself at that hour of the day. Delaherche,
however, deemed the circumstance a fortunate one, since it would enable
him to introduce Henriette to the Prussian officer, and accordingly
gave orders to admit him. On perceiving a second young woman in the
room, the captain exaggerated his already excessive politeness. He even
accepted a cup of coffee, which he drank without sugar, not because he
liked it unsweetened, but because he had sometimes seen people drink
it in this fashion in Paris. It appeared, moreover, that if he had so
pressingly solicited admission it was simply from his desire to lose
no time in informing Madame that he had just secured a pardon for one
of her _protégés_, an unlucky workman employed at the factory, who had
been imprisoned in consequence of a scuffle with a Prussian soldier.
Gilberte at once profited by the opportunity to speak about father
Fouchard's case: 'Captain,' said she, 'I present you one of my dearest
friends. She desires to place herself under your protection; she is the
niece of the farmer who was recently arrested at Remilly, as you know,
in connection with that Franc-tireur affair.'
'Ah! yes, the affair of the spy, the unfortunate fellow who was found
in a sack. Oh! it's a serious matter, very serious indeed! I am afraid
I can do nothing.'
'Oh! you would please me so much!' said Gilberte, looking at him with
her caressing eyes and thrilling him with a sensation of beatitude.
Then he bowed to her with an air of gallant compliance. Whatever she
might desire, he was at her orders.
'I shall be very grateful to you, sir,' said Henriette painfully,
seized as she was with an insurmountable feeling of discomfort, at the
sudden thought of her husband, her poor Weiss, shot over yonder at
Bazeilles.
However, Edmond, who had discreetly taken himself off on the arrival of
the captain, had just returned into the room to whisper a few words in
Gilberte's ear. She rose in a vivacious way, mentioned the lace which
the dealer had just brought, and after apologising for leaving them,
followed the young fellow out of the room. Left alone with the two
men, Henriette was now able to isolate herself, and took a seat in the
embrasure of a window, whilst they remained at table, talking in loud
voices.
'You will accept a nip of brandy, captain, eh? You see I don't stand
on ceremony with you. I tell you all I think because I am aware that
you have a liberal mind. Well! I assure you that it is very wrong of
your prefect to bleed the town of those forty-two thousand francs. Just
think of all our sacrifices since the outset! In the first place, on
the eve of the battle, the entire French army, exhausted and famished,
fell on our hands. Then came your men, and they had long teeth too.
Merely the troops that have passed through the place, the requisitions,
the damage which had to be repaired, the needful expenses of all
kinds, have cost us a million and a half of francs. We may put down
as much for the havoc wrought by the battle, the destruction caused
by your artillery fire and the conflagrations, and that will bring us
to three millions. Then I estimate that the losses sustained by local
trade and industry amount to quite two millions. What do you say to
that? There we have a total of five millions of francs for a town of
thirteen thousand inhabitants! And now under some pretext or other you
ask us for a further contribution of forty-two thousand francs. Come,
is it reasonable, is it just?'
Herr von Gartlauben nodded his head and contented himself with
answering: 'What can you expect? Such is war, such is war!'
The spell of waiting continued, Gilberte did not return, and
Henriette's ears were ringing; all kinds of vague, sad thoughts were
rendering her drowsy, as she sat there in the embrasure of the window,
whilst Delaherche declared upon his word of honour that Sedan could
never have weathered the crisis, caused by the absolute dearth of
specie, had it not been for the timely creation of a local fiduciary
currency--the paper-money issued by the Caisse du Crédit Industriel,
which had saved the town from a financial disaster.
'You will take another drop of brandy, captain, eh?' he added: and
then passing to another subject: 'Ah! it wasn't France that declared
the war, it was the Empire. The Emperor greatly deceived me. He is
altogether done for; we would rather let ourselves be dismembered than
take him back. There was only one man who saw clearly into things last
July, and that was Monsieur Thiers, whose journey just now through the
capitals of Europe is another great act of wisdom and patriotism. The
hopes of all reasonable people accompany him--may he succeed!'
With a wave of the hand he sought to convey his meaning, for he would
have deemed it altogether unseemly to speak of his desire for peace
before a Prussian, however friendly the latter might be. Such a desire
was, however, strong within him, as it was in all the old conservative
and _plébiscite_-voting _bourgeoisie_. They would soon be at an end
of their blood and treasure; it was necessary to give in; and such
being the opinion, there arose from all the occupied provinces a
covert rancour against Paris for resisting so stubbornly. And in this
wise Delaherche, alluding to Gambetta's fiery proclamations, added
in a lower voice: 'No, no; we cannot be on the side of the furious
madmen![46] It's becoming a massacre--I for my part side with Monsieur
Thiers, who wishes the elections to take place. As for their Republic,
well, that doesn't inconvenience me; we'll keep it if necessary, till
we get something better.'
With extreme politeness, Herr von Gartlauben continued wagging his head
in an approving way, and repeating: 'No doubt, no doubt.'
Henriette, whose discomfort had increased, felt unable to remain there
any longer. She experienced a kind of irritation, for which she could
assign no definite reason, a pressing desire to find herself elsewhere;
and so she at last quietly rose from her seat, and left the room in
search of Gilberte, whose return had been so long delayed. And she was
stupefied when she found her friend lying on a sofa in tears, a prey
to poignant and unaccountable emotion. 'What is the matter? What has
happened to you?' asked Henriette.
But the young woman's tears only fell the faster, and she would not
speak; such was her confusion, moreover, that it seemed as though all
the blood in her heart had rushed to her cheeks. At last, however,
throwing herself into Henriette's outstretched arms, hiding her face
against her friend's bosom, she stammered: 'Oh! my darling, if you only
knew--I shall never dare to tell you--and yet I have no one but you;
you alone can perhaps tell me what is best to do.' She shuddered and
stammered yet more violently: 'I was here with Edmond. And then, just
this minute, the old lady came in and caught me.'
'Caught you? What do you mean?'
'Yes, he had his arm round my waist and was kissing me.' And then,
embracing Henriette, clasping her convulsively in her trembling arms,
she told her all. 'Oh, my darling! don't judge me too severely, it
would be more than I could bear. I know I promised you it should never
happen again, but you have seen Edmond--you know how brave he is and
how good-looking--as pretty as a girl. Besides, think of it, the poor
young fellow; wounded, ill, so far away from his mother, too! And
then he has never had any money to spend on enjoyment: as it was, his
parents had to stint themselves to give him an education. I assure you,
I could not find it in my heart to be harsh with him.'
Henriette listened dumbfounded, unable to recover from her amazement.
'But, my dear,' she said at last, 'everybody thinks it is the Prussian
captain who has succeeded in pleasing you.'
At this Gilberte sprang to her feet, and, wiping her eyes, broke out
into protestations: 'The Prussian! Oh, dear no, indeed! He's frightful;
he's hateful to me! What can people take me for? How can anyone think
me capable of such infamy? No, no, never; I would rather die!'
Her feeling of revolt had rendered her quite grave, imparting a pained,
irritated expression to her beauty which quite transfigured her. But
all at once her coquettish gaiety, her thoughtless giddiness, came back
with a laugh which she was unable to repress: 'Well, it's true I amuse
myself with him. He adores me, you know, and I merely have to look at
him to make him obey me. If you only knew how amusing it is to make
game of that big fat fellow, who always seems to fancy that he is about
to be rewarded for his attentions.'
'But it's a very dangerous game to play,' said Henriette, seriously.
'Do you think so? Why, what risk do I run? When it dawns upon him that
I have merely been trifling with him, he will be unable to do anything
beyond flying into a passion and taking himself off. And, besides, he
will never realise it! You don't know the man, my dear; he's one of
those creatures whom women can flirt with as far as they like without
any fear of danger. I know it intuitively. He is far too vain; he will
never admit that I have trifled with him. And all that he will get from
me will be permission to carry off my souvenir, with the consolation
of thinking that he has done the proper thing and behaved himself like
a well-bred man who long resided in Paris.' She was getting quite
gay again, and added: 'Meantime he will have father Fouchard set at
liberty, and his only reward for doing so will be a cup of tea from my
hands.'
All at once, however, her fears returned to her, and fresh tears
gathered in her eyes. 'And the old lady; good heavens! What will
happen? She is not at all fond of me, and she is capable of telling the
whole story to my husband.'
Henriette had at last recovered her self-possession. Wiping Gilberte's
eyes, she said; 'Listen, my dear, I haven't the strength to scold you,
and yet you know how I blame such conduct. But people had frightened
me so terribly about your Prussian, I feared such horrid things,
that this flirtation with the young sergeant comes as a relief. Quiet
yourself, everything may be set right.'
This was sensible advice, the more so as Delaherche almost immediately
came in with his mother, and explained that, having made up his mind
to take the train to Brussels that same evening, he had just sent for
the vehicle which was to convey him across the Belgian frontier. He
had therefore come to bid his wife good-bye. Then, turning towards
Henriette, he added: 'You may be at rest. On leaving me just now,
the captain promised me that he would attend to that matter of
your uncle's, and whilst I am away my wife will do whatever may be
necessary.'
Since Madame Delaherche senior had entered the room Gilberte, with her
heart oppressed, had not taken her eyes off her. Did she mean to speak
out and tell what she had seen and thus prevent her son from starting?
On her side the old lady had fixed her eyes upon her daughter-in-law
from the moment she had crossed the threshold. However, she remained
silent, experiencing perhaps a relief akin to that which Henriette had
felt. Since it was that young Frenchman who had fought so bravely,
ought she not to forgive as she had already forgiven, in the case of
Captain Beaudoin? Her eyes softened, and she averted her head. Her
son might go; if need were, Edmond would protect Gilberte against the
Prussian. And at this thought she even indulged in a faint smile,
she whose stern features had not once relaxed since the good news of
Coulmiers.[47]
'Good-bye,' she said, embracing Delaherche; 'settle your business and
make haste back.'
Then she retired, slowly betaking herself to the prison-like room
across the landing, where the colonel, ever with the same expression of
stupor on his face, was gazing into the dimness which surrounded the
circle of pale light falling from the lamp.
Henriette went back to Remilly that same evening, and three days later,
in the morning, she was delighted to see old Fouchard walk into the
farm, as calmly as though he had merely come back from driving some
bargain in the neighbourhood. He sat down and ate some bread and
cheese. And to all the questions that he was plied with, he responded
in a calm, deliberate way like a man who had never felt in the least
degree uneasy respecting the issue of his affair. Why should they
have kept him prisoner? He had done nothing wrong. It wasn't he who
had killed the Prussian spy, was it? So he had contented himself with
saying to the authorities; 'Find out all about it if you can, but for
my part I know nothing.' And they had been obliged to release him, and
the mayor as well, since they had no proofs against either of them.
But at the same time, cunning, scoffing peasant that he was, his eyes
twinkled with inward merriment, in his mute delight at having got the
better of those dirty scamps, of whom he was growing quite sick and
tired now that they had begun cavilling about the quality of his meat.
December was drawing to an end, and Jean insisted on leaving. His leg
was now firm and strong again, and the doctor declared that he might go
and fight. For Henriette this was a source of great affliction, which
she strove to hide. They had had no news of Paris since the disastrous
battle of Champigny. They simply knew that Maurice's regiment, exposed
to a murderous fire, had on that occasion lost many men. There was
ever the same unbroken silence on his part; no letter, not a line
reached them, although they knew that some families of Raucourt and
Sedan had received messages by circuitous routes. Perhaps the pigeon
bearing the tidings which they so ardently longed for had encountered
some voracious hawk, or had fallen on the verge of a wood, killed by a
Prussian bullet. Above everything else, however, they were haunted by
the fear that Maurice might be dead. In their case the silence of the
great city over yonder, mute in the grip of the investment, had become
like the silence of the tomb. They had now lost all hope of tidings,
and so, when Jean expressed his formal desire to be gone, Henriette
gave utterance to a stifled plaint: 'My God, so it is all over, I shall
be entirely alone!'
Jean's desire was to join the Army of the North, which General
Faidherbe had lately reformed. This army was defending three
departments, the Nord, the Pas-de-Calais, and the Somme, which had
become separated from the rest of France since General von Manteuffel's
corps had pushed forward to Dieppe; and Jean's plan, susceptible of
easy accomplishment, was to make his way to Bouillon, and pass round by
way of Belgium. He knew that the formation of the Twenty-third Army
Corps was being completed by gathering together all the old soldiers
of Sedan and Metz that could be found. He had heard it reported also
that General Faidherbe was resuming the offensive, and when he read of
the engagement of Pont-Noyelle[48]--that drawn battle which the French
almost won--he definitely fixed his departure for the ensuing Sunday.
It was again in this instance Dr. Dalichamp who offered his gig and his
services as driver, so that Jean might get more easily to Bouillon. The
doctor's courage and goodness of heart were inexhaustible. At Raucourt,
whose inhabitants were being decimated by typhus, brought there by
the Bavarians, he had patients in almost every house, in addition to
those in the two ambulances which he attended, that of Raucourt itself
and that of Remilly. His ardent patriotism, the impulse which always
prompted him to protest against all needless violence, had twice led
to his arrest by the Prussians, who had, however, promptly set him at
liberty again. And he was laughing with genuine satisfaction on the
morning when he arrived in his trap to drive Jean away, delighted,
indeed, at being able to facilitate the escape of another of those
vanquished soldiers of Sedan, those poor brave fellows whom he tended
with all his professional skill and assisted with his purse. Jean, whom
the pecuniary question greatly worried, for he knew very well that
Henriette was by no means rich, had readily accepted the fifty francs
offered him by the doctor to defray the expenses of his journey.
Old Fouchard behaved handsomely at the leave-taking. He sent Silvine
to the cellar for two bottles of wine, desiring that everyone should
drain a glass to the extermination of the Germans. He was henceforth a
well-to-do man, with his 'pile' securely hidden away somewhere; and,
easy in mind since the Francs-tireurs of the Dieulet Woods, tracked
like wild beasts, had disappeared from the neighbourhood, he now had
but one desire, that of enjoying the approaching peace as soon as it
should be concluded. In a fit of generosity, moreover, he had even
given wages to Prosper, by way of attaching him to the farm, which the
young man, however, had no desire to leave. And Fouchard not merely
chinked glasses with Prosper, but also with Silvine, whom he had at
one moment thought of marrying, so well behaved and so intent on her
work did he now find her. But what use would it be? He divined that
she would never go astray again, that she would still be there when
Charlot had grown up and in his turn went for a soldier. And when he
had chinked glasses with the doctor, with Henriette and with Jean, the
old fellow exclaimed:
'There! To everybody's health, and may everybody prosper and feel no
worse than I do!'
Henriette had insisted upon accompanying Jean as far as Sedan. He was
dressed for the occasion in civilian attire, wearing an overcoat and
low hat which the doctor had lent him. The sun shone brightly over the
snow that morning, although it was terribly cold. Their intention had
been to drive through the town without stopping, but when Jean learnt
that his colonel was still staying with the Delaherches, he felt a
strong desire to go and pay his respects to him, and at the same time
thank the manufacturer for his kindness. A final grief awaited him,
however, in that town of disaster and affliction. When they reached the
factory in the Rue Maqua, they found the house turned topsy-turvy by a
tragic occurrence. Gilberte was in a state of wild grief; old Madame
Delaherche was weeping big silent tears, and her son, who had come up
from his loom-shops, where work had in some measure been resumed, was
giving vent to exclamations of surprise. The colonel had just been
found dead, lying all of a heap upon the floor of his room, where that
eternal lamp was still burning. A doctor, summoned in all haste, had
been unable to understand the case, finding no probable cause, neither
heart-trouble nor congestion, to which he could ascribe this sudden
death. M. de Vineuil had expired thunderstruck as it were, though none
could tell whence the bolt had fallen. And it was only on the morrow
that a fragment of an old newspaper was picked up in the room, a scrap
which had served to cover a book, and which contained an account of the
surrender of Metz!
'My dear,' said Gilberte to Henriette, 'just now when Captain
Gartlauben came down stairs, he uncovered as he passed the door of
the room where my uncle's body is lying--Edmond saw him do so--he is
certainly a well-bred man, isn't he?'
Jean had never yet embraced Henriette. Before getting into the gig
again with the doctor, he wished to thank her for all her care and
kindness, for having nursed and loved him like a brother. But he could
not find the words he sought, and suddenly opening his arms he kissed
her, sobbing. Quite distracted, she returned his kiss. And when the
horse started off the corporal turned round and they waved their
hands to one another whilst repeating in faltering accents, 'Good-bye,
good-bye!'
That night, Henriette, who had returned to Remilly, was on duty at the
ambulance. During her long vigil she was again seized with a bitter
access of tears, and she wept--wept exceedingly, stifling her sorrow
between her clasped hands.