People passed in the street like a torrent. We heard those returning
from the fire telling the news, the engines hurrying by, the soldiers
ranging the crowd in the line, the shells bursting at the right and
left.
Before our windows the long trails of red flame descended upon the
roofs in front, and shattered the glass of the windows. Our cannon all
around the city replied to the enemy. Now and then we heard the cry:
"Room! Room!" as the wounded were carried away.
Twice some pickets came up into my room to put me in the line, but, on
seeing me sitting with Sorle by our child, they went down again.
The first shell burst at our house about eleven o'clock, the second at
four in the morning; everything shook, from the garret to the cellar;
the floor, the bed, the furniture seemed to be upheaved; but, in our
exhaustion and despair, we did not speak a single word.
Zeffen came running to us with Esdras and little Safel, at the first
explosion. It was evident that little David was dying. Old Lanche and
Sorle were sitting, sobbing. Zeffen began to cry.
I opened the windows wide, to admit the air, and the powder-smoke which
covered the city came into the room.
Safel saw at once that the hour was at hand. I needed only to look at
him, and he went out, and soon returned by a side street,
notwithstanding the crowd, with Kalmes the chanter, who began to recite
the prayer of the dying:
"The Lord reigneth! The Lord reigneth! The Lord shall reign
everywhere and forever!
"Praise, everywhere and forever, the name of His glorious reign!
"The Lord is God! The Lord is God! The Lord is God!
"Hear, oh Israel, the Lord our God is one God!
"Go, then, where the Lord calleth thee--go, and may His mercy help thee!
"May the Lord, our God, be with thee; may His immortal angels lead thee
to heaven, and may the righteous be glad when the Lord shall receive
thee into His bosom!
"God of mercy, receive this soul into the midst of eternal joys!"
Sorle and I repeated, weeping, those holy words. Zeffen lay as if
dead, her arms extended across the bed, over the feet of her child.
Her brother Safel stood behind her, weeping bitterly, and calling
softly, "Zeffen! Zeffen!"
But she did not hear; her soul was lost in infinite sorrows.
Without, the cries of "Fire!" the orders for the engines, the tumult of
the crowd, the rolling of the cannonade still continued; the flashes,
one after another, lighted up the darkness.
What a night, Fritz! What a night!
Suddenly Safel, who was leaning over under the curtain, turned round to
us in terror. My wife and I ran, and saw that the child was dead. We
raised our hands, sobbing, to indicate it. The chanter ceased his
psalm. Our David was dead!
The most terrible thing was the mother's cry! She lay, stretched out,
as if she had fainted; but when the chanter leaned over and closed the
lips, saying "_Amen!_" she rose, lifted the little one, looked at him,
then, raising him above her head, began to run toward the door, crying
out with a heart-rending voice:
"Baruch! Baruch! save our child!"
She was mad, Fritz! In this last terror I stopped her, and, by main
force, took from her the little body which she was carrying away. And
Sorle, throwing her arms round her, with ceaseless groanings, Mother
Lanche, the chanter, Safel, all led her away.