Monsieur Morisot, who had just hooked a bleak, said: "And to think that
it will always be thus so long as there are such things as Governments."
Monsieur Sauvage stopped him: "The Republic would not have declared
war."
Monsieur Morisot in his turn: "With Kings we have foreign wars, with
the Republic we have civil wars."
Then in a friendly way they began to discuss politics with the calm
common-sense of reasonable and peace-loving men, agreeing on the one
point that no one would ever be free. And Mont Valerien thundered
unceasingly, demolishing with its cannon-balls French houses, crushing
out French lives, ruining many a dream, many a joy, many a hope
deferred, wrecking much happiness, and bringing to the hearts of women,
girls, and mothers in France and elsewhere, sorrow and suffering which
would never have an end.
"It's life," said Monsieur Morisot.
"Say rather that it's death," said Monsieur Sauvage.
They started, scared out of their lives, as they felt that someone was
walking close behind them. Turning round, they saw four men, four
tall, bearded men, dressed as servants in livery, and wearing flat caps
upon their heads. These men were covering the two fishermen with rifles.
[Illustration: "TURNING ROUND THEY SAW FOUR MEN."]
The rods dropped from their frightened hands, and floated aimlessly
down the river. In an instant the Frenchmen were seized, bound, thrown
into a boat, and ferried over to the island.
Behind the house they had thought uninhabited was a picket of Prussian
soldiers. A hairy giant, who was sitting astride a chair, and smoking
a porcelain pipe, asked them in excellent French if they had had good
sport.
A soldier placed at the feet of the officer the net full of fish, which
he had brought away with him.
"Not bad, I see. But we have other fish to fry. Listen, and don't alarm
yourselves. You are a couple of French spies sent out to watch my
movements, disguised as fishermen. I take you prisoners, and I order
you to be shot. You have fallen into my hands--so much the worse for
you. It is the fortune of war. Inasmuch, however, as you came through
the lines you are certainly in possession of the password. Otherwise
you could not get back again. Give me the word and I will let you go."
The two friends, livid with fear, stood side by side, their hands
nervously twitching, but they answered not a word.
The officer continued: "No one need ever know it. You will go home
quietly, and your secret will go with you. If you refuse it is death
for you both, and that instantly. Take your choice."
They neither spoke nor moved.
The Prussian calmly pointed to the river and said: "Reflect, in five
minutes you will be at the bottom of that water. I suppose you have
families."
Mont Valerien thundered unceasingly.
The two Frenchmen stood perfectly still and silent.
The officer gave an order in German. Then he moved his chair farther
away from the prisoners, and a dozen soldiers drew up in line twenty
paces off.
"I will give you one minute," he said, "not one second more."
He got up leisurely, and approached the two Frenchmen. He took Morisot
by the arm and said, in an undertone: "Quick! Give me the word. Your
friend will know nothing. I will appear to give way."
Monsieur Morisot did not answer.
The Prussian took Monsieur Sauvage aside and said the same thing to him.
Monsieur Sauvage did not answer.
They found themselves once more side by side.
The officer gave another order; the soldiers raised their guns.
By accident Morisot's glance fell upon the net full of fish on the
ground a few steps off. A ray of sunshine lit up their glittering
bodies, and a sudden weakness came over him. "Good-bye, Monsieur
Sauvage," he whispered.
"Good-bye, Monsieur Morisot," replied Monsieur Sauvage. They pressed
each other's hands, trembling from head to foot.
"Fire," said the officer.
Monsieur Sauvage fell dead on his face. Monsieur Morisot, of stronger
build, staggered, stumbled, and then fell right across the body of his
friend, with his face turned upwards to the sky, his breast riddled
with balls.
The Prussian gave another order. His men dispersed for a moment,
returning with cords and stones. They tied the stones to the feet of
the dead Frenchmen, and carried them down to the river.
Mont Valerien thundered unceasingly.
Two soldiers took Morisot by the head and feet. Two others did the same
to Sauvage. The bodies swung to and fro, were launched into space,
described a curve, and plunged feet first into the river.
The water bubbled, boiled, then calmed down, and the little wavelets,
tinged with red, circled gently towards the bank.