"Hold, Joseph," said she; "be silent; your Emperor has no heart--he
will end miserably yet. God showed his finger this winter; He saw that
we feared a man more than we feared Him; that mothers--like those whose
babes Herod slew--dared no longer cling to their own flesh when that
man demanded them for massacre; and so the cold came and our army
perished; and now those who are leaving us are the same as already
dead. God is weary of all this! You shall not go!" cried she
obstinately; "I shall not let you go; you shall fly to the woods with
Jean Kraft, Louis Beme, and all our bravest fellows; you shall go to
the mountains--to Switzerland, and Catharine and I will go with you and
remain until this destruction of men is ended."
Then Aunt Gredel became silent. Instead of giving us an ordinary
dinner, she gave us a better one than on Catharine's birthday, and
said, with the air of one who has taken a resolution:
"Eat, my children, and fear not; there will soon be a change!"
I returned about four in the evening to Phalsbourg, somewhat calmer
than when I set out. But as I went up the Rue de la Munitionnaire, I
heard at the corner of the college the drum of the _sergent-de-ville_,
Harmantier, and I saw a throng gathered around him. I ran to hear what
was going on, and I arrived just as he began reading a proclamation.
Harmantier read that, by the _senatus-consultus_ of the 3d, the drawing
for the conscription would take place on the 15th.
It was already the 8th, and only seven days remained. This upset me
completely.
The crowd dispersed in the deepest silence. I went home sad enough,
and said to Monsieur Goulden:
"The drawing takes place next Thursday."
"Ah!" he exclaimed, "they are losing no time, things are pressing."
It is easy to imagine my grief that day and the days following. I
could scarcely stand; I constantly saw myself on the point of leaving
home. I saw myself flying to the woods, the _gendarmes_ at my heels,
crying, "Halt! halt!" Then I thought of the misery of Catharine, of
Aunt Gredel, of Monsieur Goulden. Then I imagined myself marching in
the ranks with a number of other wretches, to whom they were crying
out, "Forward! charge bayonets!" while whole files were being swept
away. I heard bullets whistle and shells shriek; in a word, I was in a
pitiable state.
"Be calm, Joseph," said Monsieur Goulden; "do not torment yourself
thus. I think that of all who may be drawn there are probably not ten
who can give as good reasons as you for staying at home. The surgeon
must be blind to receive you. Besides, I will see Monsieur the
Commandant. Calm yourself."
But these kind words could not reassure me.
Thus I passed an entire week almost in a trance, and when the day of
the drawing arrived, Thursday morning, I was so pale, so sick-looking
that the parents of conscripts envied, so to speak, my appearance for
their sons. "That fellow," they said, "has a chance; he would drop the
first mile. Some people are born under a lucky star!"