Our confidence returned a little after I worked at the arsenal, but
still we were anxious, for hundreds of men on furloughs for six months,
conscripts, and old soldiers enlisted for one campaign, passed through
the town in citizens' clothes but with knapsacks on their backs. They
all shouted "_Vive l'Empereur!_" and seemed to be furious. In the
great hall of the town-house they received one a cloak, another a
shako, and others epaulettes and gaiters and shoes, at the expense of
the department, and off they went, and I wished them a pleasant
journey. All the tailors in town were making uniforms by contract, the
gendarmes gave up their horses to mount the cavalry, and the mayor,
Baron Parmentier, urged the young men of sixteen and seventeen to join
the partisans of Colonel Bruce, who defended the defiles of the Zorne,
the Zinselle, and the Saar.
The baron was going to the "Champ de Mai," and his enthusiasm
redoubled. "Go!" cried he, "courage!" as he spoke to them of the
Romans who fought for their country. I thought to myself as I listened
to him, "If you think all that so beautiful why do you not go yourself."
You can imagine with what courage I worked at the arsenal; nothing was
too much for me. I would have passed night and day in mending the guns
and adjusting the bayonets and tightening the screws. When the
commandant, Mr. Montravel, came to see us, he praised me.
"Excellent!" said he, "that is good! I am pleased with you, Bertha."
These words filled me with satisfaction, and I did not fail to report
them to Catherine, in order to raise her spirits. We were almost
certain that Mr. Montravel would keep me at Pfalzbourg.
The gazettes were full of the new constitution, which they called the
"Additional Act," and the act of the "Champ de Mai." Mr. Goulden
always had something to say, sometimes about one article and sometimes
another, but I mixed no more in these affairs, and repented of having
complained of the processions and expiations; I had had enough of
politics.
This lasted till the 23d of May. That morning about ten o'clock I was
in the great hall of the arsenal, filling the boxes with guns. The
great door was wide open, and the men were waiting with their wagons
before the bullet park, to load up the boxes. I had nailed the last
one, when Robert, the guard, touched me on the shoulder and said in my
ear:
"Bertha, the Commandant Montravel wishes to see you. He is in the
pavilion."
"What does he want of me?"
"I do not know."
I was afraid directly, but I went at once. I crossed the grand court,
near the sheds for the gun-carriages, mounted the stairs, and knocked
softly at the door.
"Come in," said the commandant.
I opened the door all in a tremble, and stood with my cap in my hand.
Mr. Montravel was a tall, brown, thin man, with a little stoop in his
shoulders. He was walking hastily up and down his room, in the midst
of his books and maps, and arms hung on the wall.
"Ah! Bertha, it is you, is it? I have disagreeable news to tell you,
the third battalion to which you belong leaves for Metz."
On hearing this my heart sank, and I could not say a word. He looked
at me, and after a moment he added:
"Do not be troubled, you have been married for several months, and you
are a good workman, and that deserves consideration. You will give
this letter to Colonel Desmichels at the arsenal at Metz; he is one of
my friends, and will find employment in some of his workshops for you,
you may be certain."
I took the letter which he handed me, thanked him, and went home filled
with alarm. Zebede, Mr. Goulden, and Catherine were talking together
in the shop, distress was written on every face. They knew everything.
"The third battalion is going," I said as I entered, "but Mr. Montravel
has just given me a letter to the director of the arsenal at Metz. Do
not be anxious, I shall not make the campaign."
I was almost choking. Mr. Goulden took the letter and said, "It is
open; we can read it."
Then he read the letter, in which Mr. Montravel recommended me to his
friend, saying that I was married, a good workman, industrious, and
that I could render real service at the arsenal. He could have said
nothing better.
"Now the matter is certain," said Zebede.
"Yes, you will be retained in the arsenal at Metz," said Father Goulden.
Catherine was very pale, she kissed me and said, "What happiness,
Joseph!"
They all pretended to believe that I should remain at Metz, and I tried
to hide my fears from them. But the effort almost suffocated me, and I
could hardly avoid sobbing, when happily I thought I would go and
announce the news to Aunt Gredel. So I said, "Although it will not be
very long, and I shall stay in Metz, yet I must go and tell the good
news to Aunt Gredel. I will be back between five and six, and
Catherine will have time to prepare my haversack, and we will have
supper."
"Yes, Joseph, go!" said Father Goulden. Catherine said not a word, for
she could hardly restrain her tears. I set off like a madman. Zebede,
who was returning to the barracks, told me at the door, that the
officer in charge at the town-house would give me my uniform, and that
I must be there about five o'clock. I listened, as if in a dream, to
his words, and ran till I was outside of the city. Once on the glacis
I ran on without knowing where, in the trenches, and by the
Trois-Chateaux and the Baraques-a-en-haut, and along the forest to
Quatre Vents.
I cannot describe to you the thoughts that ran through my brain. I was
bewildered, and wanted to run away to Switzerland. But the worst of
all was when I approached Quatre Vents by the path along the Daun. It
was about three o'clock. Aunt Gredel was putting up some poles for her
beans, in the rear of the garden, and she saw me in the distance, and
said to herself:
"Why it is Joseph! what is he doing in the grain?"
But when I got into the road, which was full of ruts and sand and which
the sun made as hot as a furnace, I went on more slowly with my head
bent down, thinking I should never dare to go in, when, suddenly aunt
exclaimed from behind the hedge, "Is it you, Joseph?"