“To that young man who went with us, you know,
he has joined us in business.”
“I remember him, perfectly.”
He was going out, feeling very unhappy, though scarcely
knowing why, when Madame called him back.
“And how is your friend?” she asked, rather
shyly.
“He is very well, thank you.”
“Please give him our compliments, and beg him
to come and call, when he is in the neighborhood.”
She then added: “Tell him it will give
me great pleasure.”
“I will be sure to do so. Adieu!”
“I will not say that; come again, very soon.”
* * * *
*
The next year, one very hot Sunday, all the details
of that adventure which he had never forgotten, suddenly
came back to him so clearly, that he returned to their
room in the wood, and he was overwhelmed with astonishment
when he went in. She was sitting on the grass,
looking very sad, while by her side, again in his
shirt sleeves the young man with the yellow hair was
sleeping soundly, like some brute.
She grew so pale when she saw Henri, that at first
he thought she was going to faint, then, however,
they began to talk quite naturally. But when
he told her that he was very fond of that spot, and
went there very often on Sundays, she looked into
his eyes for a long time. “I, too, think
of it,” she replied.
“Come, my dear,” her husband said, with
a yawn; “I think it is time for us to be going.”
It was after Bourbaki’s defeat in the East of
France. The army, broken up, decimated and worn
out, had been obliged to retreat into Switzerland,
after that terrible campaign, and it was only the short
time that it lasted, which saved a hundred and fifty
thousand men from certain death. Hunger, the
terrible cold, forced marches in the snow without
boots, over bad mountainous roads, had caused us francs-tireurs
especially the greatest sufferings, for we were without
tents and almost without food, always in front when
we were marching towards Belfort, and in the rear,
when returning by the Jura. Of our little band
that had numbered twelve hundred men on the first of
January, there remained only twenty-two pale, thin,
ragged wretches, when we at length succeeded in reaching
Swiss territory.
There we were safe and could rest. Everybody
knows what sympathy was shown to the unfortunate French
army, and how well it was cared for. We all gained
fresh life, and those who had been rich and happy before
the war, declared that they had never experienced
a greater feeling of comfort than they did then.
Just think. We actually had something to eat
every day, and could sleep every night.
Meanwhile, the war continued in the East of France,
which had been excluded from the armistice. Besancon
still kept the enemy in check, and the latter had
their revenge by ravaging the Franche Comte.
Sometimes we heard that they had approached quite
close to the frontier, and we saw Swiss troops, who
were to form a line of observation between us and
them, set out on their march.
