That pained us in the end, and, as we regained health
and strength, the longing to fight took possession
of us. It was disgraceful and irritating to know
that within two or three leagues of us the Germans
were victorious and insolent, to feel that we were
protected by our captivity, and to feel that on that
account we were powerless against them.
One day our captain took five or six of us aside,
and spoke to us about it, long and furiously.
He was a fine fellow, that captain. He had been
a sublieutenant in the Zouaves, was tall and thin
and as hard as steel, and during the whole campaign
he had cut out their work for the Germans. He
fretted in inactivity, and could not accustom himself
to the idea of being a prisoner and of doing nothing.
“Confound it!” he said to us, “does
it not pain you to know that there is a number of
uhlans within two hours of us? Does it not almost
drive you mad to know that those beggarly wretches
are walking about as masters in our mountains, when
six determined men might kill a whole spitful any
day? I cannot endure it any longer, and I must
go there.”
“But how can you manage it, captain?”
“How? It is not very difficult! Just
as if we had not done a thing or two within the last
six months, and got out of woods that were guarded
by very different men from the Swiss. The day
that you wish to cross over into France, I will undertake
to get you there.”
“That may be; but what shall we do in France
without any arms?”
“Without arms? We will get them over yonder,
by Jove!”
“You are forgetting the treaty,” another
soldier said; “we shall run the risk of doing
the Swiss an injury, if Manteuffel learns that they
have allowed prisoners to return to France.”
“Come,” said the captain, “those
are all bad reasons. I mean to go and kill some
Prussians; that is all I care about. If you do
not wish to do as I do, well and good; only say so
at once. I can quite well go by myself; I do
not require anybody’s company.”
Naturally we all protested, and, as it was quite impossible
to make the captain alter his mind, we felt obliged
to promise to go with him. We liked him too much
to leave him in the lurch, as he never failed us in
any extremity; and so the expedition was decided on.
The captain had a plan of his own, that he had been
cogitating over for some time. A man in that
part of the country whom he knew was going to lend
him a cart and six suits of peasants’ clothes.
We could hide under some straw at the bottom of the
wagon, which would be loaded with Gruyere cheese,
which he was supposed to be going to sell in France.
The captain told the sentinels that he was taking
two friends with him to protect his goods, in case
any one should try to rob him, which did not seem an
extraordinary precaution. A Swiss officer seemed
to look at the wagon in a knowing manner, but that
was in order to impress his soldiers. In a word,
neither officers nor men could make it out.
