THE DEATH PENALTY--AND A CAPITAL PUNISHMENT
The Comtesse Hermine started up triumphantly; and this movement of hers
was even more dramatic than the inexplicable vibration of that electric
bell. She gave a cry of fierce delight, followed by an outburst of
laughter. The whole expression of her face changed. It denoted no more
anxiety, no more of that tension indicating a groping and bewildered
mind, nothing but insolence, assurance, scorn and intense pride.
"Fools!" she snarled. "Fools! So you really believed--oh, what
simpletons you Frenchmen are!--that you had me caught like a rat in a
trap? Me! Me! . . ."
The words rushed forth so volubly, so hurriedly, that her utterance was
impeded. She became rigid, closing her eyes for a moment. Then,
summoning up a great effort of will, she put out her right arm, pushed
aside a chair and uncovered a little mahogany slab with a brass switch,
for which she felt with her hand while her eyes remained turned on Paul,
on the Comte d'Andeville, on his son and on the three officers. And, in
a dry, cutting voice, she rapped out:
"What have I to fear from you now? You wish to know if I am the Countess
von Hohenzollern? Yes, I am. I don't deny it, I even proclaim the fact.
The actions which you, in your stupid way, call murders, yes, I
committed them all. It was my duty to the Emperor, to the greater
Germany. . . . A spy? Not at all. Simply a German woman. And what a
German woman does for her country is rightly done. So let us have no
more silly phrases, no more babbling about the past. Nothing matters but
the present and the future. And I am once more mistress of the present
and the future both. Thanks to you, I am resuming the direction of
events; and we shall have some amusement. . . . Shall I tell you
something? All that has happened here during the past few days was
prepared by myself. The bridges carried away by the river were sapped at
their foundations by my orders. Why? For the trivial purpose of making
you fall back? No doubt, that was necessary first: we had to announce a
victory. Victory or not, it shall be announced; and it will have its
effect, that I promise you. But I wanted something better; and I have
succeeded."
She stopped and then, leaning her body towards her hearers, continued,
in a lower voice:
"The retreat, the disorder among your troops, the need of opposing our
advance and bringing up reinforcements must needs compel your
commander-in-chief to come here and take counsel with his generals. For
months past, I have been lying in wait for him. It was impossible for me
to get within reach of him. So what was I to do? Why, of course, as I
couldn't go to him, I must make him come to me and lure him to a place,
chosen by myself, where I had made all my arrangements. Well, he has
come. My arrangements are made. And I have only to act. . . . I have
only to act! He is here, in a room at the little villa which he occupies
whenever he comes to Soissons. He is there, I know it. I was waiting for
the signal which one of my men was to give me. You have heard the signal
yourselves. So there is no doubt about it. The man whom I want is at
this moment deliberating with his generals in a house which I know and
which I have had mined. He has with him a general commanding an army and
another general, the commander of an army corps. Both are of the ablest.
There are three of them, not to speak of their subordinates. And I have
only to make a movement, understand what I say, a single movement, I
have only to touch this lever to blow them all up, together with the
house in which they are. Am I to make that movement?"
There was a sharp click. Bernard d'Andeville had cocked his revolver:
"We must kill the beast!" he cried.
Paul rushed at him, shouting:
"Hold your tongue! And don't move a finger!"
The countess began laughing again; and her laugh was full of wicked
glee:
"You're right, Paul Delroze, my man. You take in the situation, you do.
However quickly that young booby may fire his bullet at me, I shall
always have time to pull the lever. And that's what you don't want,
isn't it? That's what these other gentlemen and you want to avoid at all
costs . . . even at the cost of my liberty, eh? For that is how the
matter stands, alas! All my fine plan is falling to pieces because I am
in your hands. But I alone am worth as much as your three great
generals, am I not? And I have every right to spare them in order to
save myself. So are we agreed? Their lives against mine! And at once!
. . . Paul Delroze, I give you one minute in which to consult your
friends. If in one minute, speaking in their name and your own, you do
not give me your word of honor that you consider me free and that I
shall receive every facility for crossing the Swiss frontier, then . . .
then heigh-ho, up we go, as the children say! . . . Oh, how I've got
you, all of you! And the humor of it! Hurry up, friend Delroze, your
word! Yes, that's all I ask. Hang it, the word of a French officer! Ha,
ha, ha, ha!"
Her nervous, scornful laugh went on ringing through the dead silence.
And it happened gradually that its tone rang less surely, like words
that fail to produce the intended effect. It rang false, broke and
suddenly ceased.
And she stood in dumb amazement: Paul Delroze had not budged, nor had
any of the officers nor any of the soldiers in the room.
She shook her fist at them:
"You're to hurry, do you hear? . . . You have one minute, my French
friends, one minute and no more! . . ."
Not a man moved.
She counted the seconds in a low voice and announced them aloud by tens.
At the fortieth second, she stopped, with an anxious look on her face.
Those present were as motionless as before. Then she yielded to a fit of
fury:
"Why, you must be mad!" she cried. "Don't you understand? Oh, perhaps
you don't believe me? Yes, that's it, they don't believe me! They can't
imagine that it's possible! Possible? Why, it's your own soldiers who
worked for me! Yes, by laying telephone-lines between the post-office
and the villa used for head-quarters! My assistants had only to tap the
wires and the thing was done: the mine-chamber Under the villa was
connected with this cellar. Do you believe me now?"
Her hoarse, panting voice ceased. Her misgivings, which had become more
and more marked, distorted her features. Why did none of those men move?
Why did they pay no attention to her orders? Had they taken the
incredible resolution to accept whatever happened rather than show her
mercy?
"Look here," she said, "you understand me, surely? Or else you have all
gone mad! Come, think of it: your generals, the effect which their death
would cause, the tremendous impression of our power which it would give!
. . . And the confusion that would follow! The retreat of your troops!
The disorganization of the staff! . . . Come, come! . . ."
It seemed as if she was trying to convince them; nay, more, as if she
was beseeching them to look at things from her point of view and to
admit the consequence which she had attributed to her action. For her
plan to succeed, it was essential that they should consent to act
logically. Otherwise . . . otherwise . . .
Suddenly she seemed to recoil against the humiliating sort of
supplication to which she had been stooping. Resuming her threatening
attitude, she cried:
"So much the worse for them! So much the worse for them! It will be you
who have condemned them! So you insist upon it? We are quite agreed?
. . . And then I suppose you think you've got me! Come, come now! Even
if you show yourselves pig-headed, the Comtesse Hermine has not said her
last word! You don't know the Comtesse Hermine! The Comtesse Hermine
never surrenders! . . ."
She was possessed by a sort of frenzy and was horrible to look at.
Twisting and writhing with rage, hideous of face, aged by fully twenty
years, she suggested the picture of a devil burning in the flames of
hell. She cursed. She blasphemed. She gave vent to a string of oaths.
She even laughed, at the thought of the catastrophe which her next
movement would produce. And she spluttered:
"All right! It's you, it's you who are the executioners! . . . Oh, what
folly! . . . So you will have it so? But they must be mad! Look at them,
calmly sacrificing their generals, their commander-in-chief, in their
stupid obstinacy. Well, so much the worse for them! You have insisted on
it. I hold you responsible. A word from you, a single word. . . ."
She had a last moment of hesitation. With a fierce and unyielding face
she stared at those stubborn men who seemed to be obeying an implacable
command. Not one of them budged.
Then it seemed as if, at the moment of taking the fatal decision, she
was overcome with such an outburst of voluptuous wickedness that it made
her forget the horror of her own position. She simply said:
"May God's will be done and my Emperor gain the victory!"
Stiffening her body, her eyes staring before her, she touched the switch
with her finger.
The effect was almost immediate. Through the outer air, through the
vaulted roof, the sound of the explosion reached the cellar. The ground
seemed to shake, as though the vibration had spread through the bowels
of the earth.
Then came silence. The Comtesse Hermine listened for a few seconds
longer. Her face was radiant with joy. She repeated:
"So that my Emperor may gain the victory!"
And suddenly, bringing her arm down to her side, she thrust herself
backwards, among the skirts and blouses against which she was leaning,
and seemed actually to sink into the wall and disappear from sight.
A heavy door closed with a bang and, almost at the same moment, a shot
rang through the cellar. Bernard had fired at the row of clothes. And he
was rushing towards the hidden door when Paul collared him and held him
where he stood.
Bernard struggled in Paul's grasp:
"But she's escaping us! . . . Why can't you let me go after her? . . .
Look here, surely you remember the Èbrecourt tunnel and the system of
electric wires? This is the same thing exactly! And here she is getting
away! . . ."
He could not understand Paul's conduct. And his sister was as indignant
as himself. Here was the foul creature who had killed their mother, who
had stolen their mother's name and place; and they were allowing her to
escape.
"Paul," she cried, "Paul, you must go after her, you must make an end of
her! . . . Paul, you can't forget all that she has done!"
Élisabeth did not forget. She remembered the Château d'Ornequin and
Prince Conrad's villa and the evening when she had been compelled to
toss down a bumper of champagne and the bargain enforced upon her and
all the shame and torture to which she had been put.
But Paul paid no attention to either the brother or the sister, nor did
the officers and soldiers. All observed the same rigidly impassive
attitude, seemed unaffected by what was happening.
Two or three minutes passed, during which a few words were exchanged in
whispers, while not a soul stirred. Broken down and shattered with
excitement, Élisabeth wept. Bernard's flesh crept at the sound of his
sister's sobs and he felt as if he was suffering from one of those
nightmares in which we witness the most horrible sights without having
the strength or the power to act.
And then something happened which everybody except Bernard and Élisabeth
seemed to think quite natural. There was a grating sound behind the row
of clothes. The invisible door moved on its hinges. The clothes parted
and made way for a human form which was flung on the ground like a
bundle.
Bernard d'Andeville uttered an exclamation of delight. Élisabeth looked
and laughed through her tears. It was the Comtesse Hermine, bound and
gagged.
Three gendarmes entered after her:
"We've delivered the goods, sir," one of them jested, with a fat, jolly
chuckle. "We were beginning to get a bit nervous and to wonder if you'd
guessed right and if this was really the way she meant to clear out by.
But, by Jove, sir, the baggage gave us some work to do. A proper
hell-cat! She struggled and bit like a badger. And the way she yelled!
Oh, the vixen!" And, to the soldiers, who were in fits of laughter,
"Mates, this bit of game was just what we wanted to finish off our day's
hunting. It's a grand bag; and Lieutenant Delroze scented the trail
finely. There's a picture for you! A whole gang of Boches in one day!
. . . Look out, sir, what are you doing? Mind the beast's fangs!"
Paul was stooping over the spy. He loosened her gag, which seemed to be
hurting her. She at once tried to call out, but succeeded only in
uttering stifled and incoherent syllables. Nevertheless, Paul was able
to make out a few words, against which he protested:
"No," he said, "not even that to console you. The game is lost. And
that's the worst punishment of all, isn't it? To die without having done
the harm you meant to do. And such harm, too!"
He rose and went up to the group of officers. The three, having
fulfilled their functions as judges, were talking together; and one of
them said to Paul:
"Well played, Delroze. My best congratulations."
"Thank you, sir. I would have prevented this attempt to escape. But I
wanted to heap up every possible proof against the woman and not only to
accuse her of the crimes which she has committed, but to show her to you
in the act of committing crime."
"Ay; and there's nothing half-hearted about the vixen! But for you,
Delroze, the villa would have been blown up with all my staff and myself
into the bargain! . . . But what was the explosion which we heard?"
"A condemned building, sir, which had already been demolished by the
shells and which the commandant of the fortress wanted to get rid of. We
only had to divert the electric wire which starts from here."
"So the whole gang is captured?"
"Yes, sir, thanks to a spy whom I had the luck to lay my hands on just
now and who told me what I had to do in order to get in here. He had
first revealed the Comtesse Hermine's plan in full detail, together with
the names of all his accomplices. It was arranged that the man was to
let the countess know, at ten o'clock this evening, by means of that
electric bell, if you were holding a council in your villa. The notice
was given, but by one of our own soldiers, acting under my orders."
"Well done; and, once more, thank you, Delroze."
The general stepped into the circle of light. He was tall and powerfully
built. His upper lip was covered with a thick white mustache.
There was a movement of surprise among those present. Bernard
d'Andeville and his sister came forward. The soldiers stood to
attention. They had recognized the general commanding-in-chief. With him
were the two generals of whom the countess had spoken.
The gendarmes had pushed the spy against the wall opposite. They untied
her legs, but had to support her, because her knees were giving way
beneath her.
And her face expressed unspeakable amazement even more than terror. With
wide-open eyes she stared at the man whom she had meant to kill, the man
whom she believed to be dead and who was alive and who would shortly
pronounce the inevitable sentence of death upon her.
Paul repeated:
"To die without having done the harm you intended to do, that is the
really terrible thing, is it not?"
The commander-in-chief was alive! The hideous and tremendous plot had
failed! He was alive and so were his officers and so was every one of
the spy's enemies. Paul Delroze, Stéphane d'Andeville, Bernard,
Élisabeth, those whom she had pursued with her indefatigable hatred:
they were all there! She was about to die gazing at the vision, so
horrible for her, of her enemies reunited and happy.
And above all she was about to die with the thought that everything was
lost. Her great dream was shattered to pieces. Her Emperor's throne was
tottering. The very soul of the Hohenzollerns was departing with the
Comtesse Hermine. And all this was plainly visible in her haggard eyes,
from which gleams of madness flashed at intervals.
The general said to one of those with him:
"Have you given the order? Are they shooting the lot?"
"Yes, this evening, sir."
"Very well, we'll begin with this woman. And at once. Here, where we
are."
The spy gave a start. With a distortion of all her features she
succeeded in shifting her gag; and they heard her beseeching for mercy
in a torrent of words and moans.
"Let us go," said the commander-in-chief.
He felt two burning hands press his own. Élisabeth was leaning towards
him and entreating him with tears.
Paul introduced his wife. The general said, gently:
"I see that you feel pity, madame, in spite of all that you have gone
through. But you must have no pity, madame. Of course it is the pity
which we cannot help feeling for those about to die. But we must have no
pity for these people or for members of their race. They have placed
themselves beyond the pale of mankind; and we must never forget it. When
you are a mother, madame, you will teach your children a feeling to
which France was a stranger and which will prove a safeguard in the
future: hatred of the Huns."
He took her by the arm in a friendly fashion and led her towards the
door:
"Allow me to see you out. Are you coming, Delroze? You must need rest
after such a day's work."
They went out.
The spy was shrieking:
"Mercy! Mercy!"
The soldiers were already drawn up in line along the opposite wall.
The count, Paul and Bernard waited for a moment. She had killed the
Comte d'Andeville's wife. She had killed Bernard's mother and Paul's
father. She had tortured Élisabeth. And, though their minds were
troubled, they felt the great calm which the sense of justice gives. No
hatred stirred them. No thought of vengeance excited them.
The gendarmes had fastened the spy by the waistband to a nail in the
wall, to hold her up. They now stood aside.
Paul said to her:
"One of the soldiers here is a priest. If you need his assistance.
. . ."
But she did not understand. She did not listen. She merely saw what was
happening and what was about to happen; and she stammered without
ceasing:
"Mercy! . . . Mercy! . . . Mercy! . . ."
They went out. When they came to the top of the staircase, a word of
command reached their ears:
"Present! . . ."
Lest he should hear more, Paul slammed the inner and outer hall-doors
behind him.
Outside was the open air, the good pure air with which men love to fill
their lungs. Troops were marching along, singing as they went. Paul and
Bernard learnt that the battle was over and our positions definitely
assured. Here also the Comtesse Hermine had failed. . . .
* * * * *
A few days later, at the Château d'Ornequin, Second Lieutenant Bernard
d'Andeville, accompanied by twelve men, entered the casemate,
well-warmed and well-ventilated, which served as a prison for Prince
Conrad.
On the table were some bottles and the remains of an ample repast. The
prince lay sleeping on a bed against the wall. Bernard tapped him on the
shoulder:
"Courage, sir."
The prisoner sprang up, terrified:
"Eh? What's that?"
"I said, courage, sir. The hour has come."
Pale as death, the prince stammered:
"Courage? . . . Courage? . . . I don't understand. . . . Oh Lord, oh
Lord, is it possible?"
"Everything is always possible," said Bernard, "and what has to happen
always happens, especially calamities." And he suggested, "A glass of
rum, sir, to pull you together? A cigarette?"
"Oh Lord, oh Lord!" the prince repeated, trembling like a leaf.
Mechanically he took the cigarette offered him. But it fell from his
lips after the first few puffs.
"Oh Lord, oh Lord!" he never ceased stammering.
And his distress increased when he saw the twelve men waiting, with
their rifles at rest. He wore the distraught look of the condemned man
who beholds the outline of the guillotine in the pale light of the dawn.
They had to carry him to the terrace, in front of a strip of broken
wall.
"Sit down, sir," said Bernard.
Even without this invitation, the wretched man would have been incapable
of standing on his feet. He sank upon a stone.
The twelve soldiers took up their position facing him. He bent his head
so as not to see; and his whole body jerked like that of a dancing doll
when you pull its strings.
A moment passed; and Bernard asked, in a kind and friendly tone:
"Would you rather have it front or back?"
The prince, utterly overwhelmed, did not reply; and Bernard exclaimed:
"I'm afraid you're not very well, sir. Come, your royal highness must
pull yourself together. You have lots of time. Lieutenant Delroze won't
be here for another ten minutes. He was very keen on being present at
this--how shall I put it?--at this little ceremony. And really he will
be disappointed in your appearance. You're green in the face, sir."
Still displaying the greatest interest and as though seeking to divert
the prince's thoughts, he said:
"What can I tell you, sir, by way of news? You know that your friend
the Comtesse Hermine is dead, I suppose? Ha, ha, that makes you prick up
your ears, I see! It's quite true: that good and great woman was
executed the other day at Soissons. And, upon my word, she cut just as
poor a figure as you are doing now, sir. They had to hold her up. And
the way she yelled and screamed for mercy! There was no pose about her,
no dignity. But I can see that your thoughts are straying. Bother! What
can I do to cheer you up? Ah, I have an idea! . . ."
He took a little paper-bound book from his pocket:
"Look here, sir, I'll read to you. Of course, a Bible would be more
appropriate; only I haven't one on me. And the great thing, after all,
is to help you to forget; and I know nothing better for a German who
prides himself on his country and his army than this little book. We'll
dip into it together, shall we? It's called _German Crimes as Related by
German Eye-witnesses_. It consists of extracts from the diaries of your
fellow-countrymen. It is therefore one of those irrefutable documents
which earn the respect of German science. I'll open it at random. Here
goes. 'The inhabitants fled from the village. It was a horrible sight.
All the houses were plastered with blood; and the faces of the dead were
hideous to see. We buried them all at once; there were sixty of them,
including a number of old women, some old men, a woman about to become a
mother, and three children who had pressed themselves against one
another and who died like that. All the survivors were turned out; and
I saw four little boys carrying on two sticks a cradle with a child of
five or six months in it. The whole village was sacked. And I also saw a
mother with two babies and one of them had a great wound in the head and
had lost an eye.'"
Bernard stopped to address the prince:
"Interesting reading, is it not, sir?"
And he went on:
"'_26 August._ The charming village of Gué d'Hossus, in the Ardennes,
has been burnt to the ground, though quite innocent, as it seems to me.
They tell me that a cyclist fell from his machine and that the fall made
his rifle go off of its own accord, so they fired in his direction.
After that, they simply threw the male inhabitants into the flames.'
Here's another bit: '_25 August._' This was in Belgium. 'We have shot
three hundred of the inhabitants of the town. Those who survived the
volleys were told off to bury the rest. You should have seen the women's
faces!'"
And the reading continued, interrupted by judicious reflections which
Bernard emitted in a placid voice, as though he were commenting on an
historical work. Prince Conrad, meanwhile, seemed on the verge of
fainting.
When Paul arrived at the Château d'Ornequin and, alighting from his car,
went to the terrace, the sight of the prince and the careful
stage-setting with the twelve soldiers told him of the rather uncanny
little comedy which Bernard was playing. He uttered a reproachful
protest:
"I say! Bernard!"
The young man exclaimed, in an innocent voice:
"Ah, Paul, so you've come? Quick! His royal highness and I were waiting
for you. We shall be able to finish off this job at last!"
He went and stood in front of his men at ten paces from the prince:
"Are you ready, sir? Ah, I see you prefer it front way! . . . Very well,
though I can't say that you're very attractive seen from the front.
However. . . . Oh, but look here, this will never do! Don't bend your
legs like that, I beg of you. Hold yourself up, do! And please look
pleasant. Now then; keep your eyes on my cap. . . . I'm counting: one
. . . two . . . Look pleasant, can't you?"
He had lowered his head and was holding a pocket camera against his
chest. Presently he squeezed the bulb, the camera clicked and Bernard
exclaimed:
"There! I've got you! Sir, I don't know how to thank you. You have been
_so_ kind, _so_ patient. The smile was a little forced perhaps, like the
smile of a man on his way to the gallows, and the eyes were like the
eyes of a corpse. Otherwise the expression was quite charming. A
thousand thanks."
Paul could not help laughing. Prince Conrad had not fully grasped the
joke. However, he felt that the danger was past and he was now trying to
put a good face on things, like a gentleman accustomed to bear any sort
of misfortune with dignified contempt.
Paul said:
"You are free, sir. I have an appointment with one of the Emperor's
aides-de-camp on the frontier at three o'clock to-day. He is bringing
twenty French prisoners and I am to hand your royal highness over to him
in exchange. Pray, step into the car."
Prince Conrad obviously did not grasp a word of what Paul was saying.
The appointment on the frontier, the twenty prisoners and the rest were
just so many phrases which failed to make any impression on his
bewildered brain. But, when he had taken his seat and when the motor-car
drove slowly round the lawn, he saw something that completed his
discomfiture. Élisabeth stood on the grass and made him a smiling
curtsey.
It was an obvious hallucination. He rubbed his eyes with a flabbergasted
air which so clearly indicated what was in his mind that Bernard said:
"Make no mistake, sir. It's my sister all right. Yes, Paul Delroze and I
thought we had better go and fetch her in Germany. So we turned up our
Baedeker, asked for an interview with the Emperor and it was His Majesty
himself who, with his usual good grace. . . . Oh, by the way, sir, you
must expect to receive a wigging from the governor! His Majesty is
simply furious with you. Such a scandal, you know! Behaving like a
rotter, you know! You're in for a bad time, sir!"
The exchange took place at the hour named. The twenty prisoners were
handed over. Paul Delroze took the aide-de-camp aside:
"Sir," he said, "you will please tell the Emperor that the Comtesse
Hermine von Hohenzollern made an attempt to assassinate the
commander-in-chief. She was arrested by me, tried by court-martial and
sentenced and has been shot by the commander-in-chief's orders. I am in
possession of a certain number of her papers, especially private letters
to which I have no doubt that the Emperor himself attaches the greatest
importance. They will be returned to His Majesty on the day when the
Château d'Ornequin recovers all its furniture, pictures and other
valuables. I wish you good-day, sir."
It was over. Paul had won all along the line. He had delivered Élisabeth
and revenged his father's death. He had destroyed the head of the German
secret service and, by insisting on the release of the twenty French
prisoners, kept all the promises which he had made to the general
commanding-in-chief. He had every right to be proud of his work.
On the way back, Bernard asked:
"So I shocked you just now?"
"You more than shocked me," said Paul, laughing. "You made me feel
indignant."
"Indignant! Really? Indignant, quotha! Here's a young bounder who tries
to take your wife from you and who is let off with a few days' solitary
confinement! Here's one of the leaders of those highwaymen who go about
committing murder and pillage; and he goes home free to start pillaging
and murdering again! Why, it's absurd! Just think: all those scoundrels
who wanted war--emperors and princes and emperors' and princes'
wives--know nothing of war but its pomp and its tragic beauty and
absolutely nothing of the agony that falls upon humbler people! They
suffer morally in the dread of the punishment that awaits them, but not
physically, in their flesh and in the flesh of their flesh. The others
die. They go on living. And, when I have this unparalleled opportunity
of getting hold of one of them, when I might take revenge on him and his
confederates and shoot him in cold blood, as they shoot our sisters and
our wives, you think it out of the way that I should put the fear of
death into him for just ten minutes! Why, if I had listened to sound
human and logical justice, I ought to have visited him with some
trifling torture which he would never have forgotten, such as cutting
off one of the ears or the tip of his nose!"
"You're perfectly right," said Paul.
"There, you see, you agree with me! I should have cut off the tip of his
nose! What a fool I was not to do it, instead of resting content with
giving him a wretched lesson which he will have forgotten by to-morrow!
What an ass I am! However, my one consolation is that I have taken a
photograph which will constitute a priceless document: the face of a
Hohenzollern in the presence of death. Oh, I ask you, did you see his
face? . . ."
The car was passing through Ornequin village. It was deserted. The Huns
had burnt down every house and taken away all the inhabitants, driving
them before them like troops of slaves.
But they saw, seated amid the ruins, a man in rags. He was an old man.
He stared at them foolishly, with a madman's eyes. Beside him a child
was holding forth its arms, poor little arms from which the hands were
gone. . . .
THE END
Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors present in the
original edition have been corrected.
In the Table of Contents, "Elisabeth's Diary" was changed to
"Élisabeth's Diary".
In Chapter I, "was standin on the pavement" was changed to "was standing
on the pavement".
In Chapter II, "The estate surrounded by farms and fields" was changed
to "The estate, surrounded by farms and fields", and "Élisazeth suddenly
gripped her husband's arm" was changed to "Élisabeth suddenly gripped
her husband's arm".
In Chapter III, a quotation marks were added after "Confess it, you've
made a mistake" and "the wretched, monstrous woman", and "a regular,
montononous, uninterrupted ringing" was changed to "a regular,
monotonous, uninterrupted ringing".
In Chapter IV, "_That's a queer fellow_, said he colonel" was changed to
"_That's a queer fellow_, said the colonel", and "care of M.
D'Andeville" was changed to "care of M. d'Andeville".
In Chapter V, "but got no farther" was changed to "but go no farther".
In Chapter VI, "echoed Paul, is alarm" was changed to "echoed Paul, in
alarm", "ought to be cheerful. . ." was changed to "ought to be
cheerful. . . .", and "rather a serious of explosions" was changed to
"rather a series of explosions".
In Chapter VII, a missing period was added after "at a man's height".
In Chapter XIII, a single quote (') was changed to a double quote (")
after "You're sure of holding out, aren't you?", "essential imporance"
was changed to "essential importance", and a quotation mark was added
after "Is it really you? . . ."
In Chapter XVI, "He'll go with you like a limb" was changed to "He'll go
with you like a lamb".
In Chapter XVII, a single quote (') was changed to a double quote (")
after "A damnable lie!"
In Chapter XVIII, "his recest victory over the Emperor" was changed to
"his recent victory over the Emperor", and "I shall take a rest till
them" was changed to "I shall take a rest till then".
In Chapter XIX, "I have found one of your occomplices" was changed to "I
have found one of your accomplices", a quotation mark was added after
"went down to the south to die", and "telling him of your inplacable
determination" was changed to "telling him of your implacable
determination".