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diff --git a/34957-8.txt b/34957-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..08cee8f --- /dev/null +++ b/34957-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9799 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Children of Alsace, by René Bazin + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Children of Alsace + Les Oberlés + +Author: René Bazin + +Release Date: January 14, 2011 [EBook #34957] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CHILDREN OF ALSACE *** + + + + +Produced by Hélène de Mink and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + Transcriber's note: + Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document + have been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been + corrected, see the small list of corrections at the end of this + e_book. + + + + + THE CHILDREN OF ALSACE + + + + + THE + CHILDREN OF ALSACE + (_LES OBERLÉS_) + + BY + + RENÉ BAZIN + + AUTHOR OF "THE NUN," "REDEMPTION," ETC. + + _WITH A PREFACE_ + BY + DR. ANGELO S. RAPPOPORT + + NEW YORK + JOHN LANE COMPANY + MCMXII + + + + +PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN + + + + +PREFACE + + +René Bazin is already known to the English public as a writer of +exquisite charm and wonderful sensibility. "The Nun," "Redemption," +and "This My Son" have revealed his powers to appreciative readers. +Bazin is not only an original writer, a charming story-teller, but +also a deep thinker, a clear delineator of human character and life, +a wonderful landscape-painter, and a bold realist. For it is real +life, humble, poignant, palpitating, which we meet in his stories. +Life, full of misery and suffering, but also of pity and charity, of +self-sacrifice and heroic traits. Bazin is a passionate admirer of +Nature, and this admiration and love manifest themselves in his +preference for pastoral and rural scenes, and his description of +nature and peasant life. + +Nature and climate, M. Bazin thinks, exercise a paramount influence +upon the soul, and produce deep and permanent impressions. + +But in none of his books has he laid so much stress upon this +mysterious influence of a country upon the soul of its inhabitants +as in "Les Oberlés," which is now placed before English readers +under the title of "The Children of Alsace." For it is the country +of Alsace, with her woes and sorrows and sufferings, her +aspirations and hopes and dreams, which speaks to us through the +mouth of Jean Oberlé, the hero, who mysteriously feels the influence +of soil upon his soul, and is drawn to France, since Alsace is +sighing under the German yoke, and her weeping soul has fled to +France, there to wait the day of delivery and freedom! + +"Les Oberlés," or "The Children of Alsace," possesses all the +elements necessary for a real drama, for a great tragedy, namely, +the clash of conflicting passions, emotions, and duties. And these +conflicting passions arise where one has a right to expect peace and +goodwill. The author introduces us to a divided family, and we see +the husband rise against his wife, the son against his father, and +the brother against the sister. Their different modes of thinking +and of feeling, their ambitions and dreams, turn these beings, +united by the ties of blood, into enemies. But "Les Oberlés" is not +only a family drama, tragic, irreparable, but also depicts the love +of the native soil, a love almost physical, in conflict with the +love for the Greater Fatherland. It also shows the clash of two +civilisations, the Latin and the Teuton, which for forty years have +now been waging war on the soil of conquered Alsace. + +All these elements make "Les Oberlés" a really tragic novel--a novel +full of dramatic incidents, of poignant scenes, but also full of +life and love. + + A. S. RAPPOPORT. + + LONDON, + _November 1911_. + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER I + PAGE + + A FEBRUARY NIGHT IN ALSACE 9 + + CHAPTER II + + THE EXAMINATION 36 + + CHAPTER III + + THE FIRST FAMILY MEETING 55 + + CHAPTER IV + + THE GUARDIANS OF THE HEARTH 75 + + CHAPTER V + + COMPANIONS OF THE ROAD 88 + + CHAPTER VI + + THE FRONTIER 102 + + CHAPTER VII + + THE EASTER VIGIL 112 + + CHAPTER VIII + + AT CAROLIS 137 + + CHAPTER IX + + THE MEETING 150 + + CHAPTER X + + THE DINNER AT THE BRAUSIGS' 163 + + CHAPTER XI + + IN SUSPENSE 180 + + CHAPTER XII + + THE HOP-PICKING 184 + + CHAPTER XIII + + THE RAMPARTS OF OBERNAI 216 + + CHAPTER XIV + + THE LAST EVENING 232 + + CHAPTER XV + + JOINING THE REGIMENT 238 + + CHAPTER XVI + + IN THE FOREST OF THE MINIÈRES 255 + + + + + THE + CHILDREN OF ALSACE + + + + +CHAPTER I + +A FEBRUARY NIGHT IN ALSACE + + +The moon was rising above the mists of the Rhine. A man who was +coming down from the Vosges by a path--a good sportsman and great +walker whom nothing escaped--had just caught sight of her through +the slope of forest trees. Then he at once stepped into the shadow +of the plantations. But this single glance through the opening, at +the night growing more and more luminous, was sufficient to make him +realise afresh the natural beauty amidst which he lived. The man +trembled with delight. The weather was cold and calm--a slight mist +rose from the hollows. It did not bring with it yet the scent of +jonquils and wild strawberries, but only that other perfume which +has no name and no season--the perfume of rosin, of dead leaves, of +grass once again grown green, of bark raised on the fresh skin of +the trees, and the breath of that everlasting flower which is the +forest moss. The traveller breathed in this smell which he loved; he +drank it in great draughts, with open mouth, for more than ten +strides, and although accustomed to this nocturnal festival of the +forest, to these lights of heaven, to these perfumes of earth, to +these rustlings of silent life, he said aloud: "Bravo, Winter! +Bravo, the Vosges! They have not been able to spoil you." And he put +his stick under his arm in order to make still less noise on the +sand and pine-needles of the winding path. Then turning his head: + +"Carefully, Fidèle, good friend. It is too beautiful." + +Three steps behind him trotted a spaniel, long-limbed and lean, with +a nose like a greyhound, who seemed quite grey, but who by daylight +was a mixture of fire-and-coffee-and-milk colour, with fringes of +soft hair marking the outline of his paws, belly, and tail. The +beast seemed to understand his master, for he followed him without +making any more noise than the moon made in passing over the tops of +the pine-trees. + +Soon the moonlight pierced through the branches; breaking up the +shade or sweeping it away from the open spaces, it spread out across +the slopes, enveloped the trunks of trees, or studded them with +stars, and quite cold, formless, and blue, created out of these same +trees a new forest, which daylight never knew. It was an immense +creation--quick and enchanting. It took but ten minutes. Not a +tremor foretold it. M. Ulrich Biehler continued his downward path, a +prey to growing emotion, stooping sometimes to get a better view of +the undergrowth, sometimes bending over the ravines with beating +heart, but watching with head erect, like the roebucks when about to +leave the valleys for the upland pastures. + +This enthusiastic traveller, still young in mind, was, however, not +a young man. M. Ulrich Biehler, called M. Ulrich throughout the +countryside, was sixty years old, and his hair and beard, almost +white, proclaimed his age; but there had been more of the sap of +youth in him than in most, just as some possess more bravery or more +beauty, and something of this youthfulness he had retained. He lived +in the middle of the mountain of Sainte Odile, exactly twelve +hundred feet in the air, in a forest-house without any pretension +to architecture, and without lands of any sort except the sloping +meadow on which it stood, and at the back was a very small orchard, +ravaged periodically by hard winters. He had remained faithful to +this house, inherited from his father, who had bought it for a +holiday residence only, and here he spent the whole year alone, +although his friends, like his lands, were plentiful in the plains. +He was not shy of men, but he did not like to give up his own way of +living, consequently there were some fanciful stories told about +him. They said that in 1870 he had gone through the whole campaign +wearing a silver helmet, from the crest of which hung, instead of +horsehair, the hair of a woman. No one could say if this legend were +history. But twenty good people from the plains of Alsace could +affirm that there was not among the French Dragoons a more +indefatigable horseman, a bolder scout, a more tender companion in +misery, or one more forgetful of his own suffering, than M. Ulrich, +proprietor of Heidenbruch, in the mountain of Sainte Odile. + +He had remained French under German rule. That was at once his joy +and the cause of the many difficulties which he tried to surmount or +to endure as a set-off for the favour they showed him in allowing +him to breathe the air of Alsace. He knew how to make himself +respected in the rôle of a man vanquished, tolerated, and watched. +There must be no concession which would show forgetfulness of the +dear French country, but there must be no provocation; he had no +taste for useless demonstration. M. Ulrich travelled much in the +Vosges, where he possessed forests here and there, which he looked +after himself. His woods had the reputation of being among the best +managed in Lower Alsace. His house, shut up for thirty years because +of mourning, had, however, a reputation for comfort and refinement. +The few persons, French or Alsatians, who had crossed the threshold +spoke of the graciousness of the host and the art with which he made +his guests welcome. Above all, the peasants loved him, those who had +gone through the war with him, and even their sons, who took off +their hats when M. Ulrich appeared at the corner of their vineyard +or of their lucerne-field. + +They recognised him a long way off because of his slim, tall figure +and his habit of wearing only light clothes, which he bought in +Paris, and invariably chose in shades of brown, varying from the +dark brown of the walnut to the light brown of the oak. His pointed +beard, very well kept, added length to a face which had but little +colour and few wrinkles; his mouth smiled readily under his +moustaches, and his prominent nose, with its fine outline, showed +purity of race; his kind, intelligent grey eyes would quickly become +haughty and defiant if one spoke of Alsace; and the wide brow, which +imparted a touch of dreaminess to this face of a fighting man, +seemed larger still because of two bare patches extending into the +thick growth of stiff short hairs. + +Now, on this particular evening M. Ulrich had returned from visiting +the wood-cutting going on in the mountains of the Valley of the +Bruche, and his servants were not expecting him to go out again, +when after dinner he said to his servant, the old Lisa, who was +waiting at table: + +"My nephew, Jean, arrives to-night at Alsheim, and no doubt if I +waited till to-morrow I should see him here, but I prefer to see him +down there, and to-night. So I am starting. Leave the key under the +door, and go to bed." + +He had immediately whistled for Fidèle, taken his stick and gone +down the path, which entered the wood at some fifty paces below +Heidenbruch. M. Ulrich was clad, according to his custom, in a loose +coat and trousers of dead-leaf colour and a velvet shooting-cap. He +walked quickly, and in less than half an hour he found himself at a +place where the path joined a wider alley, made for pedestrians and +for the pilgrims of Sainte Odile. The place was mentioned in the +guide-books, because for a hundred yards one could look down on the +course of a swift stream which lower down the plain flowed through +the village of Alsheim; and especially because in an opening of the +ravine in the angle formed by two slopes of the mountains, one could +see, in daylight, a corner of Alsace--villages, fields, meadows--and +very far away a vague streak of silver, which was the Rhine, and +beyond that the mountains of the Black Forest--blue as flax and +rounded as the loops of a garland. In spite of the night, which +limited his vision, M. Ulrich, on arriving in the alley, looked in +front of him, through force of habit, but saw only a triangle of +steel-coloured darkness in the upper part of which real stars shone, +and lower down gleamed luminous points the same size as the stars, +lightly veiled and surrounded with a halo--the lamps and candles of +the village of Alsheim. The traveller thought of his nephew, whom he +was presently to embrace, and asked himself: "Whom am I going to +find? What has he become after three years' absence, and three years +in Germany?" + +It was only a momentary pause. M. Ulrich crossed the alley, and +wishing to go the shortest way, passed under the branches of a +forest of great beech-trees, which sloped steeply down towards a fir +plantation, where he could regain the road. Some dead leaves still +trembled at the ends of the lower branches, but the greater number +had fallen on those of the preceding year. They had not left an inch +of the soil uncovered, and as thin as silk themselves, and quite +pale, they looked like a pavement of extremely smooth light-coloured +flagstones: the trunks, marbled with moss, regular as columns, rose +to a great height at the top, very high up, the tips leant towards +each other, and their tenuous branches touched each other, outlined +the arch, and let the light pass through. A few bushes broke the +harmony of the lines. About a hundred yards lower down, the barrier +of green trees seemed to form the solid wall of this ruined +cathedral. + +Suddenly M. Ulrich heard a slight noise, which another man would +probably not have noticed: it was in front of him, among the green +firs towards which he was advancing. It was the sound of a stone +rolling down the slopes, faster and faster, striking against +obstacles and rebounding. The noise grew fainter and fainter and +ended with a detonation, sharply distinct, which proved that the +stone had reached the pebbly bottom of the hollow and split. The +forest had again become silent, when a second stone, much smaller +still, to judge by the sound it called forth, also began to roll +along in the shadow. At the same time the dog's hair stood up, and +he came back growling to his master. + +"Be quiet, Fidèle," he said. "They must not see me!" + +M. Ulrich thrust himself behind the trunk of a tree, understanding +that a living being was coming up across the wood, and guessing who +was going to appear. Indeed, making a hole in the black curtain of +pine-trees, he now saw the head, the two forelegs, and soon the +whole body of a horse. A white, hurried breath escaped from its +nostrils and smoked in the darkness. The animal was making immense +efforts to climb the steep slope. With straining muscles its +forefeet doubled up like hooks, its belly all but on the ground, it +advanced by jerks, but almost noiselessly, sinking into the moss and +the thick mass of vegetation heaped on the soil, and hardly +displacing anything but the leaves, which slipped one over the other +with a murmur as of dropping water. It carried a pale-blue horseman +bending over the animal's neck and shoulders, and holding his lance +almost horizontally, as if an enemy were near. The breath of the man +mingled with the breath of the horse in the cold night air. They +advanced, showing by their bearing the difficulty of the upward +struggle. Soon the traveller distinguished the yellow cord on the +rider's tunic, the black boots beneath the dark breeches, the +straight sword hanging at the saddle-bow, and he recognised a +horseman of the regiment of Rhenish Hussars garrisoned at Strasburg; +then nearer still he was able to distinguish on the black-and-white +flag of the lance a yellow eagle, indicating a non-commissioned +officer; he saw under the flat cap a beardless face, ruddy and +perspiring, with red-brown, fierce and restless eyes, a face +buffeted by the horse's mane in motion, and frequently turning to +the right, and he named under his breath Gottfried Hamm, +quartermaster in the Rhenish Hussars, and son of Hamm the +police-constable of Obernai. The man passed by, brushing against the +tree behind which M. Ulrich was hiding; the shadow of his body and +of his horse stretched across the feet of the Alsatian and on to the +neighbouring moss: they left in their wake an odour of harness and +of perspiration. + +At the moment when he passed the tree he turned his head again +towards the right. M. Ulrich looked in the same direction, which was +where the greatest length of the beech-wood could be seen. Thirty +yards farther on he discovered a second horseman coming up the same +track, then a third, who had become no more than a grey silhouette +between the columns of beech-trees and then, judging by the shadowy +movements, farther on still, he divined that there were other +soldiers and other horses climbing the mountain. Suddenly there was +a flash in the depths of the wood, as if a glowworm were flying by. +It was an order. All the men took one step to the right, and, +forming in single file, silently, without uttering a word, +continued their mysterious manoeuvre. The shadows moved for an +instant in the depths of the forest; the murmur of crushed and +falling leaves became more and more indistinct, then ceased, and the +night seemed once more to be empty of life. + +"A formidable enemy," said M. Ulrich half aloud, "who is kept in +training day and night! There was certainly an officer down there on +the path. It was in his direction they were all looking. He raised +his sword, bright in the moonlight, and those nearest saw it. They +all turned. How little noise they made! All the same, I could have +finished off two of them--if we had been at war." + +Then, noticing that his dog was now quietly looking at him with nose +in air and tail wagging, he added: + +"Yes, yes, they are gone. You don't like them any more than I do." + +Before continuing his way, he waited to make sure that the Hussars +would not return in his direction. He did not like meeting German +soldiers. These encountered hurt the sore and suspicious pride of +the conquered man; they hurt him through his fidelity to +France--through his love, which always dreaded a new war--a war, the +date of which he saw with astonishment recede and recede. He would +sometimes go a long way round in order to avoid a troop on the march +on the high roads. Why had those Hussars come to disturb his descent +to Alsheim? Always these manoeuvres, always this thought of the West +away down there, to which they clung with such tenacity; always this +beast of prey who prowls supple and agile on the summit of the +Vosges, and who watches the moment for descending. + +M. Ulrich went down the beech-wood slopes, his head bent, his mind +full of sad memories, which a word had been sufficient to call +up--less than a word even--for alas! mingled with them, and ready to +rise again out of the past, was all the youth of the man. He was +careful to make no noise, keeping his dog behind him, and not +caressing him when the poor beast rubbed his nose against his +master's hand as if to say, "What is the matter then? Are they not +gone?" + +In a quarter of an hour, by the wider road which he re-entered at +the end of the beech-wood, M. Ulrich gained the edge of the forest. +A cooler, stronger breeze blew through the oak and hazel copses +which bordered the plain. He stopped and listened towards the right, +saying, with a displeased shrug of the shoulders: + +"That is how they will come back! Not a soul will have heard them! +For the moment let us forget them and go and say 'How do you do?' to +Jean Oberlé." + +M. Ulrich went down a last bit of short, steep path. A few more +steps and the screens of undergrowth and brushwood which hid the +view were passed. He saw the entire sky unveiled, and below him, in +front, to the left and to the right, something of a softer, more +misty blue, the land of Alsace. The smell of the fields and of +plants wet with the dew, rose from the soil like a harvest of the +night. The wind wafted it, the cold wind, the familiar passer-by on +this plain, the vagabond companion of the Rhine. One could +distinguish no detail in the shadow where Alsace slept, except at a +distance of a few hundred yards, where lines of roofs clustered +about a round grey belfry ending in a steeple. That was the village +of Alsheim. M. Ulrich hastened on and soon found the course of the +stream again, now more rapid than ever, the bank of which he had +skirted in the mountain; walked along by it, and saw stand out, high +and massive, in its park of trees despoiled by winter, the first +house of Alsheim--the house of the Oberlés. + +It was built on the right of the road, from which it was separated, +first by a white wall, then by a brook which ran through the domain +more than two hundred yards farther, providing the water necessary +for the engines, and then flowing, enlarged and cunningly directed, +among the trees, to its outlet. M. Ulrich went through the large +gate of wrought iron which opened on to the road, and passing by the +lodge-keeper's cottage, leaving to the right the timber-yard full of +piled-up wood, of cris-crossed planks, of poles, and of sheds, he +took the left avenue, which wound between clumps of trees and the +lawn, and reached the flight of steps before a two-storied house, +with dormer windows, built of the red stone of Saverne and dating +from the middle of the century. It was half-past eight. He went +eagerly up to the first floor and knocked at the door of a room. + +A young voice answered: + +"Come in!" + +M. Ulrich had not time to take off his shooting-cap. He was seized +round the neck, drawn forward, and embraced by his nephew, Jean +Oberlé, who said: + +"Good evening, Uncle Ulrich! Ah! How glad I am! What a good idea!" + +"Come, let go of me! Good evening, my Jean! You have just arrived?" + +"I got here at three o'clock this afternoon. I should have come to +see you to-morrow, you know!" + +"I was certain of it! But I could not wait so long. I simply had to +come down and see you. It is three years since I saw you, Jean! Let +me look at you!" + +"At your leisure," said the young man, laughing. "Have I changed?" + +He had just pushed a leathern arm-chair up to his uncle, and sat +down facing him, on a sofa covered with a rug and placed against the +wall. + +Between them there was a table, on which burned a little oil lamp of +chased metal. Near by through the window, whose curtains were drawn +aside, the park could be seen all motionless and solitary in the +moonlight. M. Ulrich scrutinised Jean with a curiosity at once +affectionate and proud. He had grown--he was a little taller than +his uncle. His solid Alsatian face had taken on a quiet firmness and +more pleasing lines. His brown moustache was thicker, his easy +gestures were now those of a man who has seen the world. He might +have been mistaken for a Southerner because of the Italian paleness +of his shaven cheeks, of his eyes encircled with shadow, because of +his dark hair which he wore parted at the side, and because of his +pale lips opening over fine healthy teeth, which he showed when he +spoke or smiled. But several signs marked him a Child of Alsace. The +width of his face across the cheek-bones, his eyes green as the +forests of the Vosges, and the square chin of the peasants of the +valley. + +He had inherited some of their characteristics, for his great +grandfather had guided the plough. He had their sturdy horseman's +body. The uncle also guessed, by the youthfulness of the glance +which met his, that Jean Oberlé, the man of twenty-four, whom he was +now looking at once more, was not very different morally from him +whom he had known formerly. + +"No," he said, after a long pause, "you are the same!--only you are +a man--I was afraid of greater changes." + +"And why?" + +"Because, my boy, at your age especially there are certain journeys +which are crucial tests. But first, where do you come from, +exactly?" + +"From Berlin, where I passed my _Referendar_ examination." + +The uncle laughed a jerky laugh, which he repressed quickly, and +which was lost in his grey beard. + +"Let us call that the _Licence en droit_ examination--if you kindly +will." + +"Most willingly, uncle." + +"Then give me a fuller explanation and one more up-to-date, for you +must have had your diploma in your pocket more than a year. What +have you done with your time?" + +"It's very simple. The year before last I passed my examination, as +you know, in Berlin, so finishing my law studies. Last year I worked +with a lawyer till August. Then I travelled through Bohemia, +Hungary, Croatia, and the Caucasus--with father's permission. I took +six months over it. I returned to Berlin to get my student's luggage +and to pay some farewell visits--and here I am." + +"Well, and your father? In my haste to see you again I have not +asked after him. Is he well?" + +"He is not here." + +"What! Was he obliged to be absent on the very evening of your +return?" + +Jean answered with a little bitterness: + +"He was obliged to be present at a great dinner at the Councillor +von Boscher's. He has taken my sister. It is a very grand reception, +it seems." + +There was a short silence. The two men smiled no longer. They felt +between them--quite near--the supreme question, imposing itself upon +them after a three minutes' conversation, that exasperating and +fatal question which cannot be avoided, which unites and divides, +which lurks beneath all social intercourse, honours, mortifications, +and institutions, the question which has kept Europe under arms for +thirty years. + +"I dined alone," said Jean, "that is to say, with my grandfather." + +"Not much of a companion, poor man. Is he not always so depressed, +and so very infirm?" + +"But his mind is very much alive, I assure you!" + +There was a second silence, after which M. Ulrich asked, +hesitatingly: + +"And my sister? Your mother? Is she with them?" + +The young man nodded an affirmative. + +The elder man's grief was so intense that he turned away his eyes so +that Jean might not see all the suffering they expressed. He raised +them by chance to a water-colour by that master of decorative art, +Spindler, hanging on the wall, and which represented three beautiful +Alsatian girls amusing themselves swinging. Quickly he looked his +nephew straight in the face, and, his voice broken with emotion, +said: + +"And you? You, too, could have dined with the Councillor von +Boscher, considering how intimate you are with these Germans. Did +you not wish to follow your parents?" + +"No." + +The word was said decidedly, simply. But M. Ulrich had not got the +information he sought. Yes, Jean Oberlé had certainly become a man. +He refused to blame his family, to voice any opinion which would be +an accusation of the others. His uncle continued with the same +ironical accent: + +"Nevertheless, my nephew, all the winter through your Berlin +successes were dinned into my ears. They did not spare me. I knew +you were dancing with our fair enemies. I knew their names." + +"Oh, I beg you," said Jean seriously, "do not let us joke about +these questions--like people who dare not face them and give their +opinion. I have had a different education from yours, it is true, +uncle--a German education. But that does not diminish my love for +this country; on the contrary...." + +M. Ulrich stretched his hand across the table and pressed that of +Jean. + +"So much the better," he said. + +"Did you doubt it?" + +"I did not doubt it, my child--I did not know. I see so many things +that pain me--and so many convictions surrendered." + +"The proof that I love our Alsace is shown by my intention to live +in Alsheim." + +"What!" said M. Ulrich, stupefied. "You give up the idea of entering +the German Administration--as your father desires you should do? It +is grave--a serious thing, my friend, to rob him of his ambition. +You were the subject of the future. Does he know?" + +"He suspects; but we have not yet had any explanations on the +matter. I have not had time since my return." + +"And what will you do?" + +The youthful smile reappeared on the lips of Jean Oberlé. + +"I shall cut wood, as he does, as my grandfather Phillipe does; I +shall settle among you here. When I travelled in Germany and in +Austria, after my examination, it was chiefly that I might study the +forests, the saw-mills, and the factories like our own. You are +weeping?" + +"Not quite." + +M. Ulrich was not weeping, but he was obliged to dry his wet eyelids +with the tip of his finger. + +"It would be for joy, in any case, my dear boy. Oh, for a true and +great joy. To see you faithful to what I love best in the world. To +keep you with us--to see you determined not to accept appointments +and honours from those who have violated your country.... Yes, it +was the dream I dared no longer dream.... Only, quite frankly, I +cannot understand it. I am surprised. Why are you not like your +father, or like Lucienne, who have so openly rallied to the enemy? +You studied law in Munich, in Bonn, in Heidelberg, in Berlin; you +have just passed four years in Germany, without speaking of your +college years. How did you avoid becoming German?" + +"I am less so than you." + +"That is hardly possible." + +"Less than you, because I know them better. I have judged them by +comparison. Well, they are our inferiors." + +"Well, I _am_ pleased. We hear nothing but the opposite of this. In +France, above all, the praise of the conquerors of 1870 continues +without intermission." + +The young man, touched by M. Ulrich's emotion, leaned no longer on +the sofa, but bending forwards, his face lit up by the lamp, which +made his green eyes appear more brilliant, said: + +"Do not mistake me, Uncle Ulrich. I do not hate the Germans, and in +that I differ from you. I even admire them, for in some things they +are admirable. Among them I have friends I esteem greatly. I shall +have others. I belong to a generation which has not seen what you +have seen, and which has lived differently--I have not been +conquered!" + +"Happily, not!" + +"Only the more I know them, the more I feel myself different from +them; I feel I am of another race, with another category of ideals +into which they do not enter, which I find superior, and which, +without knowing why, I call 'France.'" + +"Bravo, Jean, bravo!" + +The old dragoon officer bent forward--he also was quite pale--and +the two men were only separated by the width of the table. + +"What I call France, uncle, what I have in my heart, like a dream, +is a country where there is a greater facility for thought." + +"Yes----" + +"For speech----" + +"That's it!" + +"For laughter." + +"How right you are!" + +"Where souls have infinite shades of colour! A country that has the +charm of a woman one loves, as it were a still more beautiful +Alsace." + +Both had risen, and M. Ulrich drew his nephew towards him, and +pressed that fervent head against his breast. + +"Frenchman!" said he, "Frenchman to the marrow of your bones, and in +every drop of blood in your veins! My poor boy!" + +The young man continued, his head still resting on the older man's +shoulder: + +"That is why I cannot live over yonder--across the Rhine--and why I +shall live here!" + +"Well might I say 'poor boy'!" answered M. Ulrich. "All is +changed--alas! Even here in your home. You will suffer, Jean, with a +nature like yours. I understand everything now--everything." + +Then letting his nephew go: + +"How glad I am I came to-night. Sit down there quite close to me. We +have so much to say to each other--Jean, my Jean!" + +They sat down side by side, happy, on the sofa. M. Ulrich stroked +his pointed beard into its habitual well-groomed neatness. He +recovered from his emotion, and said: + +"Do you know that by speaking of France as we have spoken this +evening, we have committed misdemeanours such as I delight in? It is +not allowed. If we had been out of doors and Hamm had heard us, we +should have been speedily dealt with--there would have been an +official report!" + +"I met him this afternoon." + +"And I saw the son pass by in the depths of the wood just now. He is +a non-commissioned officer in the Rhenish Hussars--the regiment +which will soon be yours. Is that the carriage I hear?" + +"No." + +"Listen, then!" + +They listened, gazing out of the window at the park, which was lit +up by the full high moon; at the lawn in the shape of a lyre with +its two white avenues, at the clumps of trees, and farther on the +tile roofs of the saw-mill. Not a sound could be heard save the fall +of the brook at the factory sluice, a monotonous sound which seemed +now near, now far, according to the direction and strength of the +freshening wind which was now blowing from the north-east, "from the +Cathedral platform," as Uncle Ulrich said, thinking of Strasburg. + +"No; what you hear," said Jean Oberlé, after listening for a while, +"is the noise of the sluice. Father told the coachman to go to +Molsheim to wait for the eleven-thirty train. We have time to chat." + +They had time, and they made good use of it. They began to speak +softly, without haste or difficulty, like those who have recognised +that they agree on essentials and who can now safely open up all +other questions, even the smallest. They spoke of the year's +voluntary service Jean had been allowed to postpone until he was +twenty-four, and of that new life he was going to begin at +Strasburg--of the ease with which he could come nearly every Sunday +to Alsheim. Then, this dear name having been repeated, uncle and +nephew took pleasure in their recollections of the country, first of +Alsheim, then of Sainte Odile, of the forest-dwelling of +Heidenbruch, of Obernai, of Saverne, where the uncle had forests, of +Guebwiller, where he had relations. It was Alsace they evoked. They +thoroughly understood one another. They smoked, their legs crossed, +seated one in each corner of the sofa, letting their words flow +freely, and laughing often. Their conversation was so prolonged that +the Black Forest cuckoo clock hanging over the door struck midnight. + + +"Do you suppose we have disturbed your grandfather?" asked M. +Ulrich, getting up, and pointing with his hand to the wall which +separated the young man's room from that of the sick man. + +"No," said Jean; "he hardly sleeps at all now--I am sure it has +pleased him to hear me laugh. As my family left me at five o'clock I +spent a good deal of my time with him, and I watched him closely. He +hears and understands everything. He recognised your voice, I am +sure, and perhaps he has caught a word here and there." + +"That will have pleased him, my boy. He belongs to the very old +Alsace, that country which seems almost fabulous to you, and to +which I also belong, although I am much younger than M. Oberlé. It +was wholly French, that Alsace, and not a man of that time has +changed. Look at your grandfather--look at old Bastian. We are the +generation who suffered. We represent grief--we others. Your father +embodies resignation." + +"And I?" + +Uncle Ulrich looked at the young man, with his far-seeing eyes, and +said: + +"You--oh, you are Romance." + +They would have smiled, both of them, but they could not, as if that +word had been too perfectly accurate, which is not always the case +with human judgments--as if they felt that Fate was there in this +room, invisible, who repeated to them at the bottom of their hearts +at the same time: "Yes, it is true--this one is Romance." The grief +which was oppressing them was only to be explained by the imminence +of life's mystery. It faded away. M. Ulrich reached out his hand to +his nephew, more gravely than he would have done if that word had +not escaped him, which he did not regret, but which remained present +with him. + +"Good-bye, dear Jean. I would rather not wait for my +brother-in-law. I do not know what attitude I should take up towards +him. All you have told me would embarrass me. You will wish him good +night for me. I will go home through the woods by moonlight. What a +pity I have not my gun with me and the good luck to come across a +brace of grouse in the fir wood." + +To reach the staircase he took some careful steps on the carpet in +the passage. + +"Uncle," said Jean, in a low tone, "if you would go to my +grandfather I am sure he would be pleased--I am sure he is not +sleeping." + +Uncle Ulrich, who was walking in front, stopped and retraced his +steps. Jean turned the handle of the door near which he was, and +going first into the room, said, in a lowered voice: + +"Grandfather, I bring you a visitor--Uncle Ulrich--who wishes to see +you." + +They were in the semi-darkness of a large room, the curtains of +which had been drawn, and a nightlight, in transparent china, placed +at the end of the room on the left between the closed window and a +bed which occupied the corner, was the sole light. On the table +beside the bed, in the little luminous halo which surrounded the +nightlight, was a small crucifix of copper, and a gold watch, the +only shining objects in the room. In the bed an old man was sitting +rather than lying, his shoulders covered with a grey wool crossover, +his back and head supported by pillows, his hands hidden under the +sheets, which still kept the folds of the linen press. A tapestry +riband, serving as bell-cord and finishing in a fringe, reached to +the middle of the bed. The man who was sleeping or waking there was +impotent. Life with him was withdrawing more and more within. He +walked and moved with difficulty. He no longer spoke. Under his +thick, pale cheeks his mouth moved only to eat and to say three +words--three cries--always the same: "Hunger, Thirst. Go away!" A +sort of senile laziness allowed his jaw to hang, the jaw that had +commanded many men. M. Ulrich and Jean went to the middle of the +room without his giving the least sign that he was conscious of +their presence. This poor human ruin was, however, the same man who +had founded the factory at Alsheim, who had raised himself from the +condition of a little country proprietor, who had been elected +_protesting_ deputy, who had been seen and heard in the Reichstag, +claiming the unrecognised rights of Alsace and demanding justice of +Prince Bismarck. Intelligence was watching, imprisoned, like the +flame which lit up the room that night; but it expressed itself no +longer. In this uninterrupted dream what men and things must pass +before the mental vision of him who knew the whole of Alsace, who +had gone through it in every direction, who had drunk of its white +wines at all the tables of the rich and the poor; traveller, +merchant, forester, and patriot! And it was he--this wrinkled bald +head, this lowering face, these heavy eyelids, between which a slow, +sad eye slipped to and fro like a billiard ball in the immovable +slit of a bell. However, the two visitors had the impression that +his gaze rested on them with an unusual pleasure. + +They kept silence so as to let the old man savour the sweetness of a +thought they would never, never know. Then Uncle Ulrich went near +the bed, and, placing his hand upon the arm of Philippe Oberlé, +bending down slightly to be nearer his ear and to more easily meet +his eyes, which were raised with difficulty: + +"We have talked a good deal, M. Oberlé, your grandson and myself. He +is a good fellow--your Jean!" + +A movement of the whole upper part of the body slowly changed the +position of the head of the old man, who was trying to see his +grandson. + +"A good fellow," continued the forester, "whose stay in Berlin has +not spoiled him. He has remained worthy of you--an Alsatian, a +patriot. He does you honour." + +Though there was only the tiny floating light in the room, Uncle +Ulrich and Jean thought they perceived a smile on the face of the +old man, the answer from a soul still young. + +They quietly withdrew, saying: + +"Good night, M. Oberlé. Good night, grandfather." + +The flame of the nightlight flickered, displacing lights and +shadows; the door was shut, and the interrupted dream continued in +the room, where hardly anything had entered since sunset save the +hours struck in the belfry of the church of Alsheim. M. Ulrich and +his nephew parted at the foot of the staircase. The night was cold, +the grass all white with frost. + +"Good time for walking!" said M. Ulrich; "I shall expect you at +Heidenbruch." + +He whistled for his dog, and stroking its red-brown head, said: + +"Take me home, for I am going to dream all the time of what that boy +told me!" + +Scarcely had he gone some few hundreds of yards--the sound of his +footstep could still be heard on the road going up towards the Wood +of Urlosen--when in the calm of the night Jean caught the sound of +the trotting horses coming from the Obernai district. The noise of +their shoes striking the metalled road sounded like flails on a +threshing-floor; it was a rural sound, and not disturbing; it broke +no rest. Fidèle, who was barking furiously towards the edge of the +forest, must have had other reasons to show her teeth and give +tongue. Jean listened to the carriage coming nearer. Soon the noise +grew less and less, then became deadened, and he knew that the +carriage had passed between the walls of the village, or at least +had entered the circle of orchards which made Alsheim in the summer +a nest of apple-trees, cherries, and walnuts. Then it swelled and +sounded clear like a train coming out of a tunnel. The gravel +scrunched at the end of the avenue. Two lamps turned and passed +rapidly across the park; the grass, the shrubs, the lower trunks of +trees, arose abruptly out of the darkness and as abruptly sank back +into it again, and the brougham stopped before the house. Jean, who +had remained at the top of the staircase, went down and opened the +door. A young girl got out at once; her face was rosy, and she was +wrapped all in white--white mantilla, coat of white wool, and white +shoes. In passing, almost in the air, she bent to the right, just +touched Jean's forehead with a kiss, and half opened two lips heavy +with sleep. + +"Good night, little brother." + +And picking up her skirt with a loose grasp, with wavering +movements, her head already on the pillow as it were, she went up +the stairs and disappeared into the vestibule. + +"Good evening, my son," said the authoritative voice of a man. "You +have waited for us; you were wrong. Come quickly, Monica, the horses +are very hot. Auguste, you will give them twelve litres to-morrow. +You would have done better to have gone with us, Jean. It was all +very nice. M. von Boscher asked twice about you." + +The person who spoke thus, now to one and now to the other, had had +time to get out of the carriage, to shake hands with Jean, to turn +towards Madame Oberlé, still seated in the back of the carriage, to +go half-way up the flight of steps, to inspect with the eye of a +connoisseur the two black horses, whose wet backs looked as if they +had been rubbed with soap. His grey whiskers framed a full and solid +face; his overcoat was unbuttoned, showing the open waistcoat and +the shirt, where three Rhine stones shone; his oratorical hand only +appeared a moment. After having given his opinion and his orders, +Joseph Oberlé--vigilant master who forgot nothing--quickly raised +his double chin and fixed his eyes on the end of the enclosure, +where the pyramids of felled trees were resting, to see if there +were any signs of fire visible, or if any shadow prowled round the +saw-mill; then, nimbly mounting the second flight of steps two at a +time, he entered the house. His son had answered nothing. He was +helping Madame Oberlé out of the carriage, taking from her her +gloves and fan, and asking: + +"You are not so very tired, are you, mother darling?" + +Her dear eyes smiled, her long mouth said: + +"Not too tired; but it is not for me, now, my dear. You have an old +mother!" + +She leaned on the arm of her son--from a mother's pride more than +from necessity. There was infinite sadness in her smile, and she +seemed to ask Jean, at whom she looked while going up the steps, +"You forgive me for having gone there? I have suffered." + +She was wearing a black satin dress. She had diamonds in her hair, +still black, and a collar of blue fox on her shoulders. Jean thought +she looked like an unhappy queen, and he admired the elegance of her +head, of her walk, and her fine carriage. She was of an old Alsatian +family, and he felt himself the son of this woman with a pride he +showed only to her. + +He accompanied her, giving her his arm all the time so as to have +the joy of being nearer to her, and to stop her on nearly every step +of the staircase. + +"Mamma, I have spent an excellent evening. It would have been +delicious if only you had been there! Imagine, Uncle Ulrich came at +half-past eight, and he only set out for home at midnight, just +now." + +Madame Oberlé smiled a melancholy smile and said: + +"He never stops as long as that for us. He keeps away." + +"You mean to say that he keeps away! I will bring him back to you." + +She stopped in her turn, looked at this son, whom she had not seen +since the afternoon, and smiled more gaily. + +"You love my brother?" + +"Better than I used to. I seem to have just discovered him." + +"You were too young before." + +"And how we have talked! We agree on all points." + +The gentle maternal eyes sought those of her child in the twilight +of the staircase. + +"Oh, all?" she asked. + +"Yes, mamma, on all!" + +They had arrived at the top of the stairs. She placed her gloved +finger on her mouth. She withdrew her arm which she had placed in +that of her son. She was at the door of her room, facing M. Philippe +Oberlé's room. Jean kissed her, withdrew a little, returned to her, +and pressed her once again to his heart silently. + +Then he took a few steps down the passage, looked again at this +woman dressed in black, and whom mourning suited so well--so simple +with her drooping white hands and her erect head, so firm of +feature, so gentle in expression. + +He murmured gaily: + +"Saint Monica Oberlé, pray for us!" + +She did not seem to hear him, but she remained, her hand on the +door-handle without entering, as long as Jean could see her, Jean, +who was going backwards step by step, farther away, into the shadows +of the passage. + +He entered his room, his heart joyful, his mind full of thoughts, +all those thoughts of the past evening coming back now with swift +flight in the solitude of the present. Feeling that he would not +sleep at once, he opened the window. The cold air blew steadily from +the north-east. The mist had fled. From his room Jean could see, +beyond the wide strip of cultivated hilly ground, the forests where +Shadow all night long wound and unwound her folds, away to the +heights crowned here and there by a spiked cluster of ancient woods, +which broke the line of hills and wreathed itself about in stars. He +tried to find the house of M. Ulrich. And in thought he saw again +him who ought to be arriving home, when voices began to sing on the +edge of the forest. A shiver of pleasure seized the nerves of the +young man, who was a passionate musician. The voices were beautiful, +young, and in tune. There were more than twenty of them certainly, +perhaps thirty or fifty. He missed the words because of the +distance. It was like the sound of an organ in the night. They flung +out to the wind of Alsace a song of a spirited rhythm. Then three +distinct words reached Jean's ears. He shrugged his shoulders, +irritated with himself for not having understood at once. It was a +chorus of German soldiers coming back from the manoeuvre of those +Rhenish Hussars M. Ulrich had met coming down the mountain. +According to custom, they sang to keep themselves awake, and because +there was in their songs the power of the word Fatherland. The +horses' hoofs accompanied the melody like muffled cymbals. The words +escaped and vibrated: + + "Stimmt an mit hellem hohen Klang, + Stimmt an das Lied der Lieder. + Des Faterlandes Hochgesang, + Das Waldthal hall es wieder." + +Jean would have been glad to stop the song. How many times, +however, and in all the German Provinces, had he not heard the +soldiers sing? Why should he feel sad at the song of these men? Why +did the words enter into his soul so painfully, although he knew +them and could repeat them from memory? When some two hundred yards +from the village they became silent. Only the clatter of hoofs +continued drawing nearer to Alsheim and echoing above it. Jean +leaned forward to see the horsemen pass in the little market town. +He could see them through a large opening in the wall surrounding +the park, secured by an iron gate just in front of the house--a +moving mass in a brown dust that the wind blew back, leaning like +barley beards in the ear. The men were not to be distinguished from +each other, nor the horses. Jean thought, with a secret and +increasing pain, "How many there are!" + +At Berlin, at Munich, at Heidelberg, they only aroused an idea of +strength without any immediate aim or object. The enemy had not been +specially singled out; it was everything opposed to the greatness of +the German Empire. Jean Oberlé had more than once admired the march +of regiments and the wonderful power of the man who commanded so +many men. But here on the frontier, on the ground still bloody with +the last war, there were memories which showed only too well who was +aimed at and threatened. The sight--the noise--of the soldiers made +him dream of butcheries, of death, and of the fearful mourning which +remains. They were passing between the houses. The noise of the +squadrons, of men and beasts shook the windows. The little town +seemed asleep. Neither the soldiers nor their leaders noticed +anything; but in many of the houses a mother woke and sat up in her +bed, shivering; a man stretched out his fist and cursed these +conquerors of past days. God alone knew the drama. They passed by. +When the last squadron had finished throwing shadows across the +road, between the two pillars of the gate, Jean thought he saw, in +the dust that was settling, a horseman facing the house. Was the +horse refusing to advance? No; he was at rest. The horseman must be +an officer--something golden placed in several rows across his +breast sparkled. He did not move, firm in his saddle, young +certainly, he gazed in front of him. This lasted scarcely a minute. +Then he lowered the sabre he held in his hand, and having saluted, +put spurs to his horse, which rushed away. The scene had been so +quick that Jean might have thought it an illusion, if the gallop of +the beast had not sounded in the village street. + +"Some Teutonic joke," he thought--"a way this officer has found of +saying that the house pleases him! Thanks!" + +The regiment had already left the village and ridden away to the +wide plain. The houses had gone to sleep once more. The wind blew +towards the green Vosges. In the opposite quarter, far away now, +like a religious hymn, rose again the song of the German soldiers, +who were celebrating the German Fatherland whilst marching towards +Strasburg. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE EXAMINATION + + +On the following day the morning was far advanced when Jean left his +room and appeared on the flight of steps built of the red stone of +Saverne like the house, which opened on to the park in two flights +of long steps. He was dressed in shooting clothes--of which he was +fond--gaiters of black leather, breeches and coat of blue wool, with +a hat of soft felt, in the ribbon of which he stuck a grouse +feather. From the steps he asked: + +"Where is my father?" + +The man whom he addressed, the gardener, busy raking the avenue, +answered: + +"Monsieur is in the office at the saw-mill." + +The first thing that Jean Oberlé saw on raising his eyes was the +Vosges mountains, clothed with forests of pines, with trails of snow +in the hollows, and with low, rapid clouds hiding the peaks. He +trembled with joy. Then having gazed at the lowest mountain slopes, +at the vineyards, and then the meadows, as if to impress on his +memory all the details of these places found again after a long +absence, and above all with the added satisfaction of remaining +among them, his eyes fastened on the red roofs of the saw-mill, +which made a barrier at the end of the Oberlé property, on the +chimneys, on the high building where the turbines were, to the right +on the course of the mountain stream of Alsheim, and nearer on the +timber-yard whence the factory got its supplies, on the heaps of +wood from trees of all sorts--beams, planks, which rose in pyramids +and enormous cubes, beyond the winding alleys and the clumps of +trees, some two hundred yards from the house. Jets of white steam in +many places escaped from the roof of the saw-mill, and rested on the +north wind like the clouds up above. + +The young man went to the left, crossed the park, formerly planted +and designed by M. Philippe Oberlé, and which was now beginning to +be a freer and more harmonious corner of nature, and turning towards +the piles of oak trunks, elms, and pines, went to knock at the door +of the long building. + +He entered the glass pavilion which served the master for a +workroom. He was engaged in reading the day's letters. Seeing his +son appear, he put the papers on the table, made a sign with his +hand which meant "I expected your visit--sit down"--and moving his +arm-chair, he said: + +"Well, my boy! What have you to say to me?" + +M. Joseph Oberlé was a ruddy man, quick and authoritative. Because +of his shaven lips, his short whiskers, the correctness of his +clothes, the easiness of his words and manners, he had sometimes +been taken for an old French magistrate. The mistake did not arise +with those who thought thus. It had been made by circumstances which +had taken M. Joseph Oberlé in spite of himself from the way wherein +he had intended to go, and which should have led him to some public +office in the magistrature or the administration. The father, the +founder of the dynasty, Philippe Oberlé, son of a race of peasant +proprietors, had founded at Alsheim in 1850 this mechanical +saw-mill, which had rapidly prospered. He had become in a few years +rich and powerful, very much beloved, because he neglected no means +to that end; increasingly influential, but without at all +foreseeing the events which would one day induce him to put his +influence at the service of Alsace. + +The son of this industrial workman could hardly escape the ambition +of being a public functionary. That is what happened--his education +had prepared him for it. Taken early from Alsace, pupil for eight +years at the Lycée Louis le Grand, then law student, he was at +twenty-two years old attached to the office of the Prefect of +Charente, when the war broke out. Retained for some months by his +chief, who thought it would please his friend the great manufacturer +of Alsace if he sheltered the young man behind the walls of the +prefecture of Angoulême; then on his demand incorporated tardily in +the Army of the Loire, Joseph Oberlé marched much, retired much, +suffered much from cold, and fought well on rare occasions. When the +war was finished he had to make his choice. + +If he had consulted his personal preferences only, he would have +remained French, and he would have continued to follow an +administrative career, having a taste for authority and few personal +opinions on the quality of an order to be transmitted. But his +father recalled him to Alsace. He implored him not to leave the work +begun and prospering. He said: "My industry is become German by +conquest; I cannot leave the instrument of my fortune and your +future to perish. I detest the Prussians, but I take the only means +which I have of continuing my life usefully. I was a Frenchman, I +become an Alsatian. Do the same. I hope it will not be for long." + +Joseph Oberlé had obeyed with real repugnance--repugnance at +submitting to the law of the conqueror, repugnance at living in the +village of Alsheim, lost at the foot of the Vosges. He had even +committed at this time imprudences of speech and attitude which he +regretted now. For the conquest had lasted; the fortunes of Germany +were strengthened, and the young man, associated with his father +and become the master of a factory, had felt the meshes of an +administration similar to the French administration, but more +harassing, stricter, and better obeyed, knotting itself and drawing +closer round him. He saw that on every occasion, without any +exception, the German authorities would put him in the wrong; the +police, the magistrates, the functionaries established for public +services which he used daily, the commission of public roads, the +railways, the water supply, the forests, the customs. The +malevolence which he met with on all sides and in all departments of +German administration, although he had become a German subject, was +aggravated and had become quite a danger to the prosperity of the +house of Alsheim, when, in 1874, M. Philippe Oberlé, giving to his +son the direction of the saw-mill, had yielded to the insistences of +that poor forsaken country, which wanted to make of him, and did +make him, the representative of her interests at the Reichstag, and +one of the protesting deputies of Alsace. + +This experience, the weariness of waiting, the removal of M. +Philippe Oberlé, who spent a part of the year at Berlin, modified +sensibly the attitude of the young head of the industrial +enterprise. His first fervour, and that of others, grew less. He saw +the anti-German manifestations of Alsatian peasants becoming rarer +and more prudent. He hardly did any business with France; he no +longer received visits from French people, even those made from +interested and commercial motives. France, so near by distance, +became like a walled-in country, shut up, and whence nothing more +came to Alsace, neither travellers nor merchandise. The newspapers +he received left him in no doubt as to the slow abandonment which +certain French politicians counselled under the name of wisdom and +concentration. + +In ten years M. Joseph Oberlé had used up, till he could no longer +find a trace in himself, all that his temperament allowed him of +resistance to oppose to an established power. He was rallied. His +marriage with Monica Biehler, desired and arranged by the old and +ardent patriot who voted in the Reichstag against Prince Bismarck, +had had no influence on his new ideas and attitude, at first secret, +soon suspected, then known, then affirmed, then scandalously +published by M. Joseph Oberlé. He gave pledges to the Germans, then +hostages. He overstepped the boundary. He went farther than +obedience. The foremen of the factory, old soldiers of France, +admirers of M. Philippe Oberlé, companions of his struggle against +the Germanisation of Alsace, bore with difficulty the attitude of +the new master and blamed him. One of them in a moment of impatience +had said to him one day, "Do you think we are so particularly proud +to work for a renegade like you?" He had been discharged. His +comrades immediately had taken his part, interceded, talked, and +threatened a strike. "Well, do it," the master had said; "I shall be +delighted. You are all quarrelsome fellows; I shall replace you by +Germans!" They did not believe in the threat, but when a fresh +crisis arose M. Joseph Oberlé carried it into execution a little +later, that he might not be accused of weakness, which he feared +more than injustice, and because he thought he could gain some +advantage by replacing the Alsatians, continual grumblers, by +workmen from Baden and Wurtemburg who were better disciplined and +more easily managed. A third of the employés at the saw-mill had +thus been replaced. A little German colony had been established to +the north of the village, in the houses built by the master, and the +Alsatians who remained had to bend before the argument of daily +bread. That happened in 1882. Some years later, they learned that M. +Oberlé had sent his son Jean to be educated in Bavaria at the Munich +gymnasium. In the same way he sent off his daughter Lucienne, +placing her in the charge of the mistress of the most German school +in Baden-Baden, the Mündner boarding-school. This last measure +roused public opinion most of all. They were furious at this +repudiation of Alsatian education and influence. They pitied Madame +Oberlé thus separated from her son and deprived, as if she had been +unworthy, of the right of bringing up her own daughter. To all those +who blamed him the father replied, "It is for their good. I have +spoiled my life; I do not wish them to spoil theirs. They will +choose their road later when they have been able to make +comparisons. But I will not have them from their very youth +catalogued, pointed at, and inscribed on the official list as +Alsatian pariahs." + +Sometimes he added: "You do not understand, then, all the sacrifice +that I am making! I am sparing my children these sacrifices; I am +devoting myself to them. But that does not mean that I am not +suffering." + +He did suffer in fact, and so much the more that the confidence of +the German administration was hard to gain. The reward of so much +effort did not seem enviable. True, those in office began to +flatter, to draw nearer, to seek out M. Joseph Oberlé, a precious +conquest, of which many district directors had boasted in high +places. But they watched him, whilst loading him with invitations +and kind attentions. He felt the hesitation, the mistrust, scarcely +disguised, sometimes even emphasised by the new masters he wished to +please. Was he safe? Had he taken the side of the Annexation without +any mental reservation? Did he sufficiently admire the German +genius, German civilisation, German commerce, the German future? One +had to admire so much and so many things! + +The answer, however, became more and more affirmative. There was the +acknowledged desire to make his son, Jean, enter the German +magistracy, and there was the systematic continuation of this kind +of exile imposed on the young man. When his classical studies were +finished and his final examination passed with success at the end of +the scholastic year, 1895, Jean spent his first year of law studies +at the University of Munich; he divided the next year between Bonn +and Heidelberg; then took his licentiate's degree at Berlin, where +he went through the Referendar Examination. At last, after a fourth +year, when as a licentiate in law he entered the office of a lawyer +at Berlin, after long travel in foreign countries, the young man +came back to his home to rest before joining a regiment. + +Truly the plan had been thoroughly carried out. In the first years +of his student life, in his holidays even, excepting some days given +to his family, his time had been given to travelling. During the +last years he had not even appeared in Alsheim. + +The end of it was that the administration no longer suspected him. +Besides, one of the great obstacles to a public reconciliation +between the functionaries of Alsace and M. Joseph Oberlé had +disappeared. The old protesting deputy, seized by the illness which +became chronic, retired from political life in 1890. From that +moment dated, for the son, the smiles, the promises, the favours so +long solicited. M. Joseph Oberlé recognised in the development his +affairs had taken--in the Rhenish country and even beyond it--in the +diminution of the official reports directed against his employés, or +against himself in cases of contravention, in the signs of deference +which the small officials showed him--formerly the most arrogant of +all, in the ease with which he had ruled disputable points, obtained +authorisations, altered the rules in divers points--in all these +signs, as well as in others, he recognised that the governmental +mind, present everywhere, incarnate everywhere in a multitude of +men of gold lace--was no longer against him. + +More definite advances were made to him. The preceding winter, while +Lucienne, who had returned from the Mündner school, pretty, witty, +charming, was dancing in the German salons of Strasburg, the father +was talking with the representatives of the Empire. One of them, the +prefect of Strasburg, Count Kassewitz, acting probably in accordance +with superior orders, had let drop that the Government would see, +without displeasure, M. Joseph Oberlé present himself as candidate +for the deputyship in one of the districts of Alsace, and that the +official support of the administration would be given to the son of +the old protesting deputy. + +This prospect filled M. Oberlé with joy. It had revived the ambition +of this man who found himself up to then repaid but badly for the +sacrifices of self-respect, friendships, and memories, which he had +had to make. It gave new energies and a definite object to this +official temperament, depressed by circumstances. M. Oberlé saw his +justification in it, without being able to reveal it. He said to +himself that, thanks to his energy, to his contempt for Utopia, to +his clear sight of what was possible and what was not, he could hope +for a future for himself--a participation in public life--a part he +had believed to be reserved for his son. And henceforward it would +be the answer that he would make to himself; if ever a doubt entered +his mind, it would be his revenge against the mute insults offered +him by some backward peasants, who forgot to recognise him in the +streets, and by certain citizens of Strasburg or Alsheim, who +scarcely, or no longer, saluted him. + +He was therefore now going to receive his son in a frame of mind +very different from that of the past. To-day, when he knew himself +in full personal favour with the Government of Alsace-Lorraine, he +was less set on his son carrying out to the letter the plan that he +had traced at first. Jean had already assisted his father, as +Lucienne was assisting him. He had been an argument, and one of the +causes of this long-expected change of the governmental attitude. +His collaboration was still going to be useful, but not necessary; +and the father, warned by certain allusions and a certain reticence +in the last letters written from Berlin by his son, did not feel so +irritated when he thought that perhaps he would not follow the +career in the German magistracy so carefully prepared for him, and +would give up his last three years of terms and his State +examinations. Such were the reflections of this man, whose life had +been guided by the most unadulterated egotism, at the moment when he +was preparing to receive his son's visit. For he had seen Jean and +had watched him coming across the park. M. Oberlé had built at the +extreme end of the saw-mill a sort of cage or footbridge, from which +he could survey everything at once. One window opened on to the +timber yard, and allowed him to follow the movements of the men +occupied in stowing away and transporting the wood. Another, +composed of a double glazed framework, placed the book-keepers under +the eye of their master, ranged along a wall in a room like the +master's room; and by a third, that is to say by a glass partition, +which separated him from the workshop, he took in at a glance the +immense hall where machines of all kinds, great saws in leather +bands, cogged wheels, drills, and planes, were cutting, boring, and +polishing trunks of trees brought to them on sliding grooves. Round +him the low woodwork painted water-green; electric lamps in the +shape of violets, the call-buttons placed on a copper plaque which +served as a pediment to his work bureau, a telephone, a typewriter, +light chairs painted white, spoke of his taste for bright colours, +for convenient innovations, and for fragile-looking objects. + +Seeing his son enter, he had turned towards the window overlooking +the park; he had crossed his legs, and placed his right elbow on the +desk. He examined curiously this tall, thin, handsome man, his son, +who sat down facing him, and he smiled. To see him thus, leaning +back in his arm-chair, and smiling his own mechanical and irrelevant +smile, by only judging from the full face framed by two grey +whiskers, and the gesture of his raised right hand, touching his +head and playing with the cord of his eyeglass, it would be easy to +understand the mistake of those who took M. Oberlé for a magistrate. +But the eyes, a little closed on account of the bright light, were +too quick and too hard to belong to any but a man of action. They +gave the lie to the mechanical smile of his lips. They had no +scientific curiosity, worldly or paternal; they sought simply a way, +like those of a ship's captain--in order to pass on. Scarcely had M. +Oberlé asked, "What have you to tell me?" than he added, "Have you +spoken with your mother this morning?" + +"No!" + +"With Lucienne?" + +"Neither; I have just come from my room." + +"It is better so. It is better for us to make our plans together, we +two, without any one interfering. I have allowed you to return and +to stay here precisely that we may arrange your future. Firstly, +your military service in the month of October, with the fixed +determination--am I right?"--and he dwelt on the following +words--"to become an officer of the reserve?" + +Jean, motionless, with head erect and straight look, and with the +charming gravity of a young man who speaks of his future and who +keeps a sort of quiet hold on himself which is not quite natural to +him: + +"Yes, father, that is my intention." + +"The first point is then settled--and afterwards? You have seen the +world. You know the people among whom you are called to live. You +know that with regard to the German magistracy the chances of +succeeding increased some time ago, because my own position has been +considerably bettered in Alsace?" + +"I know it." + +"You know equally well that I have never wavered in my desire to see +you follow the career which would have been mine if circumstances +had not been stronger than my will." + +As if this word had suddenly excited in him the strength to will, +the eyes of M. Oberlé were fixed, imperious and masterful, on those +of his son, like the claws of a bird of prey. He left off playing +with his eyeglass, and said quickly: + +"Your last letters indicated, however, a certain hesitation. Answer +me. Will you become a magistrate?" + +Jean became slightly pale, and answered: + +"No!" + +The father bent forward as if he were going to rise, and without +taking his eyes off him whose moral energy he was weighing and +judging at that moment: + +"Administrator?" + +"Neither. Nothing official." + +"Then your law studies?" + +"Useless." + +"Because?" + +"Because," said the young man, trying to steady his voice, "I have +not the German spirit." + +M. Oberlé had not expected this answer. It was a disavowal. He +started, and instinctively looked into the workshop to make sure +that no one had heard or even guessed at such words. He met the +raised eyes of many workmen, who thought he was supervising the +work, and who turned away at once. + +M. Oberlé turned again to his son. A violent irritation had seized +him. But he understood that it was best not to let it be seen. For +fear that his hands should show his agitation, he had seized the two +arms of the arm-chair in which he was seated, bent forward as +before, but now considering this young man from head to foot, +considering his attitude, his clothes, his manner, this young man +who was voicing ideas which seemed like a judgment on the conduct of +his father. After a moment of silence, his voice broken, he asked: + +"Who has put you against me? Your mother?" + +"No one," said Jean Oberlé quickly. "I have nothing against you. Why +do you take it like that? I say simply that I have not the German +spirit. It is the result of a long comparison, and nothing else." + +M. Joseph Oberlé saw that he had shown his hand too much. He +withdrew into himself, and putting on that expression of cold irony +with which he was accustomed to disguise his true sentiments: + +"Then, since you refuse to follow the career which I destined for +you, have you chosen another?" + +"Without doubt, with your consent." + +"Which?" + +"Yours. Do not be mistaken with regard to what I have just told you. +I have lived without a quarrel for ten years in an exclusively +German centre. I know what it has cost me. You ask me the result of +my experience. Well, I do not believe that my character is supple +enough, or easy-going enough if you like, to do more than that, or +to become a German official. I am sure that I should not always +understand, and that I should disobey sometimes. My decision is +irrevocable. And, on the contrary, your work pleases me." + +"You imagine that a manufacturer is independent?" + +"No; but he is more independent than many are. I studied law so +that I should not refuse to follow without reflection, without +examination, the way you pointed out to me. But I have profited by +the travels which you suggested, every year." + +"You may say which I imposed upon you; that is the truth, and I am +going to explain my reasons." + +"I have profited by them to study the forest industry wherever I +could--in Germany, in Austria, in the Caucasus. I have given more +thought and consideration to those questions than you might suppose. +And I wish to live in Alsheim. Will you allow me to?" + +The father did not answer at first. He was trying on his son an +experiment to which he deliberately submitted other men who came to +treat with him about some important affair. He was silent at the +moment when decisive words were to be expected from him. If the +questioner, disturbed, turned away to escape the look which seemed +to be oppressive, or if he renewed the explanation already made, M. +Joseph Oberlé classed him among weak men, his inferiors. Jean bore +his father's look, and did not open his mouth. M. Oberlé was +secretly flattered. He understood that he found himself in the +presence of a man completely formed, of a very resolute, and +probably inflexible spirit. He knew others like him in the +neighbourhood. He secretly appreciated their independence of temper, +and feared it. With the quickness of combination and organisation +habitual to him, he perceived very clearly the industry of Alsheim +directed by Jean, and the father of Jean, Joseph Oberlé, sitting in +the Reichstag, admitted among the financiers, the administrators, +and the powerful men of Germany. He was one of those who know how to +turn his mistakes to some advantage, just as he managed to get +something from the factory waste. This new vision softened him. Far +from being angry, he let the ironical expression relax which he had +put on while speaking of his son's project. With a movement of his +hand he pointed to the immense workshop, where, without ceasing, +with a roar which slightly shook the double windows, the steel +blades entered into the heart of the old trees of the Vosges, and +said, in a tone of affectionate scolding: + +"So be it, my son. It will give joy to my father, to your mother, +and to Ulrich. I agree that you put me in the wrong on one point +with regard to them, but in one point only. Some years ago I should +not have allowed you to refuse the career which seemed to me the +best for you, and which would have saved us all from difficulties +which you could not take the measure of. At that moment you were not +able to judge for yourself. And further, I found my work, my +position, too precarious and too dangerous to pass it on to you. +That has changed. My business has increased. Life has become +possible for me and for you all, thanks to the efforts, and perhaps +to the sacrifices, for which those about me are not sufficiently +grateful. To-day I admit that the business has a future. You wish to +succeed me? I open the door for you immediately! You will go through +the practical part of your apprenticeship in the seven months which +remain before you join your regiment. Yes, I consent, but on one +condition." + +"Which?" + +"You will not mix yourself up with politics." + +"I have no taste for politics." + +"Ah, excuse me," continued M. Oberlé with animation; "we must +understand one another, must we not? I do not think you have any +political ambition for yourself; you are not old enough, and perhaps +you are not of the right stuff. And that is not what I forbid--I +forbid you to have anything to do with Alsatian chauvinism; to go +about repeating, as others do, on every occasion--'France, France'; +to wear under your waistcoat a tricolour belt; to imitate the +Alsatian students of Strasburg, who, to recognise and encourage one +another, and for the fun of it, whistle in the ears of the police +the six notes of the Marseillaise 'Form your battalions.' I won't +have any of those little proceedings, of those little bravadoes, and +of those great risks, my dear fellow! They are forbidden +manifestations for us business men who work in a German country. +They go against our efforts and interests, for it is not France who +buys. France is very far away, my dear fellow; she is more than two +hundred leagues from here, at least one would think so, considering +the little noise, movement, or money which come to us from there. Do +not forget that! You are by your own wish a German manufacturer; if +you turn your back on the Germans you are lost. Think what you +please about the history of your country, of its past, and of its +present. I am ignorant of your opinions on that subject. I will not +try to guess what they will be in a neighbourhood so behind the +times as ours at Alsheim; but whatever you think, either try to hold +your tongue, or make a career for yourself elsewhere." + +A smile stole round Jean's turned-up moustache, while the upper part +of his face remained grave and firm. + +"You are asking yourself, I am sure, what I think about France?" + +"Let us hear." + +"I love her." + +"You do not know her!" + +"I have read her history and her literature carefully, and I have +compared: that is all. When one is oneself of the nation, that +enables one to divine much. I do not know it otherwise, it is true. +You have taken your precautions." + +"What you say is true, though at the same time you intended to +wound----" + +"Not at all." + +"Yes, I have taken my precautions, in order to free your sister and +you from that deadly spirit of opposition which would have made your +lives barren from the beginning, which would have made you +discontented people, powerless, poor; there are too many people of +that sort in Alsace, who render no service to France or to Alsace, +or to themselves, by perpetually furnishing Germany with reasons for +anger. I do not regret that you make me explain myself as to the +system of education which I desired for you, and which I alone +desired. I wished to spare you the trial I have borne, of which I +have just spoken to you: to fail in life. There is still another +reason. Ah, I know well that credit will not be given me for that! I +am obliged to praise myself in my own family. My child, it is not +possible to have been brought up in France, to belong to France +through all one's ancestry, and not to love French culture." + +He interrupted himself a moment to see the impression this phrase +produced, and he could see nothing, not a movement on the impassible +face of his son, who decidedly was a highly self-controlled man. The +implacable desire for justification which governed M. Oberlé, made +him go on: + +"You know that the French language is not favourably looked upon +here, my dear Jean. In Bavaria you had a literary and historical +education, better from that point of view than you would have had in +Strasburg. I was able to desire, without prejudicing your masters +against you, that you should have many extra French lessons. In +Alsace, you and I would both have suffered for that. Those are the +motives which guided me. Experience will show whether I was +mistaken. I did it in any case in good faith, and for your good." + +"My dear father," said Jean, "I have no right to judge what you have +done. What I can tell you is that, thanks to that education I have +received, if I have not an unbounded taste or admiration for German +civilisation, I have at least the habit of living with the Germans. +And I am persuaded that I could live with them in Alsace." + +The father raised his eyebrows as if he would say, "I am not so sure +of that." + +"My ideas, up to now, have made me no enemy in Germany; and it seems +to me that one can direct a saw-mill in an annexed country with the +opinions I have just shown you." + +"I hope so," said M. Oberlé simply. + +"Then you accept me? I come to you?" + +For answer the master pressed his finger on an electric button. + +A man came up the steps which led from the machine hall to the +observatory that M. Oberlé had had built, and opened the port-hole, +and in the opening one saw a square blond beard, long hair, and two +eyes like two blue gems. + +"Wilhelm," said the master in German, "you will make my son +conversant with the works, and you will explain to him the purchases +we have made for the past six months. From to-morrow he will +accompany you in your round of visits to where the fellings and +cuttings are being carried out in the interests of the firm." + +The door was shut again. + +That young enthusiast, the elegant Jean Oberlé, was standing in +front of his father. He held out his hand to him and said, pale with +joy: + +"Now I am again some one in Alsace! How I thank you!" + +The father took his son's hand with a somewhat studied effusion. He +thought: + +"He is the image of his mother! In him I find again the spirit, the +words, and the enthusiasm of Monica." Aloud he said: + +"You see, my son, that I have only one aim in view, to make you +happy. I have always had it. I agree to your adopting a career quite +different from the one I chose for you. Try now to understand our +position as your sister understands it." + +Jean went away, and his father, a few minutes later, went out also. +But while M. Joseph Oberlé went towards the house, being in haste to +see his daughter, the only confidante of his thoughts, and to report +the conversation he had just had with Jean, the latter crossed the +timber yard to the left, passed before the lodge, and took the road +to the forest. But he did not go far, because the luncheon hour was +approaching. By the road that wound upward he reached the region of +the vineyards of Alsheim, beyond the hop-fields which were still +bare, where the poles rose tied together, like a stack of arms. His +soul was glad. When he came to the entrance of a vineyard which he +had known since his earliest childhood, where he had gathered the +grapes in the days of long ago, he climbed on to a hill which +overlooked the road and the rows of vines at the bottom. In spite of +the grey light, in spite of the clouds and the wind, he found his +Alsace beautiful, divinely beautiful--Alsace, sloping down very +gently in front of him, and becoming a smooth plain with strips of +grass and strips of ploughed land, and whence the villages here and +there lifted their tile roofs and the point of their belfries. +Round, isolated trees--leafless because it was winter--resembled dry +thistles; some crows were flying, helped by the north wind, and +seeking a newly sown spot. + +Jean raised his hands, and spread them as if to embrace the expanse +of land stretching out from Obernai, which he saw in the farthest +undulations to the left, as far as Barr, half buried under the +avalanche of pines down the mountain-side. "I love thee, Alsace, and +I have come back to thee!" he cried. He gazed at the village of +Alsheim, at the house of red stone which rose a little below him, +and which was his; then at the other extremity of the pile of +houses, inhabited by the workmen and peasants, he marked a sort of +forest promontory which pushed out into the smooth plain. It was an +avenue ending in a great group of leafless trees, grey, between +which one could see the slopes of a roof. Jean let his eyes rest a +long time on this half-hidden dwelling, and said: "Good day, +Alsatian woman! Perhaps I am going to find that I love you. It would +be so good to live here with you!" + +The bell rang for luncheon, rang out from the Oberlés' house, and +recalled him to himself. It had a thin, miserable sound, which gave +some idea of the immensity of free space in which the noise vanished +away, and the strength of the tide of the wind which carried it away +over the lands of Alsace. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE FIRST FAMILY MEETING + + +Jean turned slowly towards this bell which was calling him. He was +full of joy at this moment. He was taking possession of a world +which, after some years, had just been opened to him and pointed out +as his place of habitation, of work, and of happiness. These words +played on his troubled mind deliciously. They pursued each other +like a troop of porpoises, those travellers on the surface, and +other words accompanied them. Family life, comfort, social +authority, embellishments, enlargements. The house took to itself a +name--"the paternal home." He looked at it with tenderness, +following the alley near the stream; he went up the steps with a +feeling of respect, remembering that they had been built by the +grandfather to whom the house still belonged, as also all the +grounds except the saw-mill and the timber yard. + +After having gone across the entrance hall, which extended from the +front to the back of the house, he opened the last door on the left. +The dining-room was the only room which had been "done up" according +to the directions and the taste of M. Joseph Oberlé. Whilst one +found elsewhere--in the drawing-room, the billiard-room, and the +other rooms--the furniture bought by the grandfather, of yellow or +green Utrecht velvet and mahogany, "My Creation," according to the +expression of M. Joseph Oberlé, showed a complete absence of line. +Colour took the place of style. The walls were covered with +wainscoting of veined maple, blue-grey, purple in places, ash-grey, +and pink-grey, covering half the height of the room. Above this, and +reaching to the small beams, were four panels of stretched cloth, +decorated with designs of smooth felt representing irises, +hollyhocks, verbena, and gladioli. Everywhere, as far as possible, +the straight line had been modified. The door mouldings described +curves which rambled madly like stalks of tropical bindweed without +any apparent reason. The framework of the large window was curved. +The chairs of bent beechwood came from Vienna. The whole had no +character, but a charm of softened light, and a remote resemblance +to the vegetable kingdom. One would have taken it for the +dining-room of a newly married couple. + +The four usual table companions Jean was going to meet there hardly +corresponded to this joyous picture, and there was no harmony +between them and the decorations of the room. They invariably sat in +the same places, round the square table, according to the +established order of deep affinities and antipathies. + +The first to the left of the window, the nearest to the glass, which +shed on her the reflection of its levelled edges, was Madame Monica +Oberlé, tall and slender, with a face that had been rounded and +fresh, but was now pale, lined, and thin. She gave the impression of +a being accustomed only to hear around her the words "You are +wrong." Her short-sighted eyes, very gentle, glanced at the guests +who were introduced to her with a smile always ready to withdraw and +fade away. They only paused after they had looked about for a little +time, when nothing had repulsed or misunderstood them. Then they +revealed a clear intelligence, a very kind heart, become a little +shy and sad, but still capable of illusions and outbursts of youth. +No one could have had a more careless youth, nor one that seemed a +less fitting preparation for the part she had to play later. She was +then called Monica Biehler, of the ancient family Biehler of +Obernai. From the top of her father's house, whose fortified +gable-end rises on the ramparts of the little town, she saw the +immense plain all round her. The garden full of trimmed box and +pear-trees, and hawthorn, where she played, was only separated by an +iron railing from the public promenade built on the old wall, so +that the vision of Alsace was printed each day on this child's soul, +and at the same time love of her country, so happy then--love of its +beauty, its peace, and its liberty, of its villages, whose names she +knew, whose rosy bunches of grapes she could have pointed out among +the harvest fields. Monica Biehler knew nothing else. She only left +Obernai to go with all the family to spend two summer months in the +lodge at Heidenbruch, in the Forest of Sainte Odile. Only once did +she happen to cross the Vosges, the year before her wedding, to make +a pilgrimage to Domrémy in Lorraine. Those had been three days full +of enthusiasm. Madame Oberlé remembered those three days as the +purest joy of her life. She would say: "My journey in France." She +had remained simple; she had kept, in her very retired life at +Alsheim, the easy fears, but also the sincerity--the secret boldness +of her youthful affection for the country and for the country +people. She had therefore suffered more than another would have done +in her place, in seeing her husband draw near to the German party in +Alsace, and finally join it. She had suffered in her Alsatian pride, +and still more in her maternal love. For the same cause which +separated her morally from her husband, her children were taken from +her. The lines on her face, faded before its time, could each have +borne a name, that of the grief which had scored them there: the +line of despised goodness, the line of useless warnings, the line of +her insulted country, of separation from Jean and Lucienne, of the +uselessness of the treasure of love she had stored up for them +during her single and married life. + +Her bitterness had been the greater because Madame Oberlé had no +illusions as to the true motives which guided her husband. And this +he had divined. He was humiliated by this witness whom he could not +deceive, and whom he could not help esteeming. She personified for +him the cause which he had abandoned. It was to her he spoke when he +felt the need of justifying himself, and he did so whenever he had +the chance. It was against her that his anger rose, against her mute +disapproval. Never once in twenty years had he been able to get her +to agree--not by one word--that Alsace was German. This timid woman +yielded to force but she did not approve of it. She followed her +husband into German society; there she bore herself with such +dignity that one could neither deceive oneself as to her attitude, +nor bear a grudge against her for it. There she safeguarded more +than appearances. A mother, separated from her children, she had +not separated herself from her husband. They still used the +twin-bedsteads in the same room. They had continual scenes, +sometimes on one side, sometimes acrimonious and violent on both +sides. Nevertheless Madame Oberlé understood that her husband only +hated her clear-sightedness and judgment. She hoped she would not +always be in the wrong. Now that the children were grown up she +believed that some very important decisions would have to be made +with regard to them, and that by her long patience and by her +numerous concessions she had perhaps gained the right to speak then +and be heard. + +Near her, and at her right, the grandfather, M. Philippe Oberlé, +had always sat. For some years, five minutes before the time of the +meal the dining-room door would open, the old man would come in, +leaning on the arm of his valet, trying to walk straight, clothed in +an anomalous garment of dark wool, his red ribbon in his +button-hole, his head weary and bent, his eyelids nearly closed, his +face swollen and bloodless. They placed him in a large chair with +arms upholstered in grey; they tied his table napkin round his neck, +and he waited, his body leaning against the chair-back, his hands on +the table--hands pale as wax, in which the knotted blue veins were +distinctly visible. When the others arrived M. Joseph Oberlé shook +him by the hand; Lucienne threw him a kiss and a number of words +audibly spoken in her fresh young voice; Madame Oberlé bent down and +pressed her faithful lips on the old man's forehead. He thanked her +by watching her sit down. He did not look at the others. Then he +made the sign of the cross, she and he alone, being a son of that +old Alsace which still prayed. And served by this neighbour so +silently charitable, who knew all his tastes, his shame of a certain +clumsiness, and who forestalled his wishes, he began to eat, slowly, +with difficulty moving his relaxed muscles. His dreamy head remained +leaning against the chair. His head alone was watching in a body +nearly destroyed. It was the theatre where, for the pleasure and +pain of one alone, there passed before his mental vision the +forebears of those whose names were mentioned before him. He did not +speak, but he remembered. Sometimes he drew from his pocket a +schoolboy's slate and pencil, and he wrote, with an uncertain +writing, two or three words, which he made his neighbour read; some +rectification, some forgotten date, his approval or disapproval to +join in with the words just spoken on the other side of the table. +Generally they knew when he was interested by the movement of his +heavy eyelids. It was only for a moment. Life sank again to the +depth of the prison whose bars she had tried to shake. Night closed +in once more round those thoughts of his, unable to make themselves +intelligible. And in spite of being accustomed to it, the sight of +this suffering and of this ruin weighed on each of the members of +the assembled family. It was less painful to strangers who sat for +one evening at the Alsheim table, for the grandfather on those days +did not try to break the circle of darkness and death which +oppressed him. Until these last years M. Joseph Oberlé had always +continued to present his guests to his father, up to the day when he +wrote on his slate: "Do not present any one to me, above all, no +Germans. Let them acknowledge my presence: that will be enough." The +son had kept the habit--and it was a touching thought on the part of +this selfish man--to give every evening an account of the business +of the factory to the old chief. After dinner, smoking in the +dining-room, while the two women went into the drawing-room, he told +him all about the day's mail, the consignments, and the purchases of +wood. Although M. Philippe Oberlé was now only the sleeping partner +of the business he had founded, he was under the illusion that he +was advising and directing still. He heard talk of the maples, pines +and firs, oaks and beeches among which he had breathed for fifty +years. He thought much of the "conference," as he called it, as the +only moment in the day in which he appeared himself, to himself, and +as some one of importance in the lives of others. Except for that he +was only a shadow, a dumb soul present, who judged his house, but +rarely gave voice to his decision. + +His son on some important question disagreed with him. Seated at +table just opposite his father, M. Joseph Oberlé could make a show +of addressing himself to his wife and daughter only; during the +whole of the meal he could avoid seeing the fingers which moved +impatiently or which wrote to Madame Oberlé, but he was not the man +to keep off painful subjects. Like all those who have had to make a +great decision in their lives, and who have not taken it without a +profound disturbance of their conscience, he was always reverting to +the German Question. Everything gave him a pretext to begin it, +praise or blame--various facts, political events announced in the +morning's newspaper, a visiting card brought by the postman, an +order for planks received from Hanover or Dresden, the wish +expressed by Lucienne to accept an invitation to some ball. He felt +the need of applauding himself for what he had done, like defeated +generals who want to explain the battle, and to demonstrate how the +force of circumstances had compelled them to act in such or such a +manner. All the resources of his fertile mind were brought to bear +on this case of conscience, on which he declared himself a long time +resolute, and which aroused no more discussion, either on the part +of the sick grandfather or on that of the depressed wife, who had +decided to keep silence. + +Lucienne alone approved and supported her father. + +She did it with the decision of youth, which judges without +consideration the grief of old people, the memories and all the +charm of the past, without understanding, and as if they were dead +things to be dealt with by reason only. She was only twenty, at once +very proud and very sincere; she had an artless confidence in +herself, an impetuous nature, and a reputation for beauty only +partly justified. Tall, like her mother, and, like her, well made, +she had her father's larger features more conformed to the usual +Alsatian type--with a tendency to thicken. All the lines of her body +were already formed and fully developed. To those who saw her for +the first time, Lucienne Oberlé gave the impression of being a +young woman rather than a young girl. Her face was extremely open +and mobile. When she listened, her eyes--not so large as, and of a +lighter green than, her brother's, her eyes and her mouth equally +sharp when she smiled--followed the conversation and told her +thoughts. She dreamed little. Another charm besides the vivacity of +her mind explained her social success: the incomparable brightness +of her complexion, of her red lips, the splendour of her fair hair, +with its shining tresses of blonde and auburn intermingled, so +abundant and so heavy that it broke tortoise-shell combs, escaped +from hairpins, and hung down behind in a heavy mass and obliged her +to raise her brow, which was enhaloed by the light from it, and gave +to Lucienne Oberlé the carriage of a proud young goddess. + +Her Uncle Ulrich said to her, laughing: "When I kiss you, I think I +am kissing a peach growing in the open air." She walked well; she +played tennis well; she swam to perfection, and more than once the +papers of Baden-Baden had printed the initials of her name in +articles in which they spoke of "our best skaters." + +This physical education had already alienated her from her mother, +who had never been more than a good walker, and was now only a fair +one. But other causes had been at work and had separated them more +deeply and more irrevocably from each other. Doubtless it was the +entirely German education of the Mündner school, more scientific, +more solemn, more pedantic, more varied, and much less pious than +that which her mother had received, who had been educated partly at +Obernai, and partly with the nuns of Notre-Dame, in the convent of +the rue des Mineurs in Strasburg. But above all it was owing to the +acquaintances she made, and her surroundings. Lucienne, ambitious +like her father, like him bent on success, entirely removed from +maternal influence, entrusted to German mistresses for seven years, +received in German families, living among pupils chiefly German, +flattered a little by everybody--here because of the charm of her +nature, there for political motives and unconscious proselytism, +Lucienne had formed habits of mind very different from those of old +Alsace. Once more at home, she no longer understood the past of her +people or her family. For her, those who stood up for the old state +of things or regretted it--her mother, her grandfather, her uncle +Ulrich--were the representatives of an epoch ended, of an +unreasonable and childish attitude of mind. At once she placed +herself on her father's side against the others. And she suffered +from it. It depressed her to be brought into such close contact with +persons of this sort, whom the Mündner school and all her worldly +acquaintances of Baden-Baden and Strasburg would look upon as behind +the times. For two years she had lived in an atmosphere of +contradiction. For her family she felt conflicting sentiments; for +her mother, for example, she felt a true tenderness and a great pity +because she belonged to a condemned society and to another century. +She had no confidants. Would her brother Jean be one? Restless at +his arrival, almost a stranger to him, desiring affection, worn out +with family quarrels, and hoping that Jean would place himself on +the side she had chosen, that he would be a support and a new +argument, she at once desired and feared this meeting. Her father +came to tell her of the conversation he had had with Jean. She had +said--cried out rather--"Thank you for giving me my brother!" + +They were all four at table when the young man entered the +dining-room. The two women who were facing each other and in the +light of the window, turned their heads, one sweetly with a smile +that said, "How proud I am of my child!"; the other leaning back on +her chair, her lips half open, her eyes as tender as if he had been +her betrothed who entered, desirous to please and sure of pleasing +him, saying aloud: "Come and sit here near me, at the end of the +table. I have made myself fine in your honour! Look!" and kissing +him, she said in a low tone, "Oh, how good it is to have some one +young to say good morning to!" She knew she was pleasant to look +upon in her bodice of mauve surah silk trimmed with lace insertion. +It also gave her real pleasure to meet this brother whom she had +only seen for a moment last night, before catching the train to +Strasburg. Jean thanked her with a friendly glance and seated +himself at the end of the table between Lucienne and his mother. He +unfolded his table napkin, and the servant Victor, son of an +Alsatian farmer, with his full-moon face and eyes like a little +girl's, always afraid of doing something wrong, approached him, +carrying a dish of _hors-d'oeuvre_, when M. Joseph Oberlé, who had +just finished writing a note in his pocket-book, stroked his +whiskers and said: + +"You see Jean Oberlé here present, you my father, you Monica, and +you Lucienne. Well, I have a piece of news to give you concerning +him. I have agreed that he shall live definitely at Alsheim and +become a manufacturer and a wood merchant." + +Three faces coloured at once; even Victor, shaking like a leaf, +withdrew his _hors-d'oeuvre_ dish. + +"Is it possible?" said Lucienne, who did not wish to let her mother +see that she had already been told of the arrangement. "Will he not +finish his referendary course?" + +"No." + +"After his year's service he will come back here for always?" + +"Yes; to stay with us always." + +The second moment of emotion is sometimes more unnerving than the +first. Lucienne's eyelids fluttered quickly and became moist. She +laughed at the same time, tender words trembling on her red lips. + +"Oh," said she, "so much the better. I don't know if it is in your +own interest, Jean, but for us, so much the better." + +She was really pretty at that moment, leaning towards her brother, +vibrating with a joy which was not feigned. + +"I thank you," said Madame Oberlé, looking gravely at her husband to +try to guess what reason he had obeyed; "I thank you, Joseph; I +should not have dared to ask it of you." + +"But you see, my dear," answered the manufacturer, bending towards +her, "you see, when proposals are reasonable I accept them. Besides, +I am so little accustomed to be thanked that for once the word +pleases me. Yes; we have just had a decisive conversation. Jean will +accompany my buyer to-morrow and visit some of our cuttings in work. +I never lose time--you know that." + +Madame Oberlé saw the awkward hand of the grandfather stretch +towards her. She took the slate which he held and read this line: + +"That is the final joy of my life!" + +There was no sign of happiness on this face, expressionless as a +mask, none, if not perhaps the fixedness with which M. Philippe +Oberlé looked at his son, who had given back a child to Alsace and a +successor to the family. He was astonished, and he rejoiced. He +forgot to eat, and all at the table were like him. The servant also +forgot to serve; he was thinking of the importance he would have in +announcing in the kitchen and in the village: "M. Jean has decided +to take the factory! He will never leave the country again!" For +some minutes in the dining-room of grey maple each of the four +persons who met there every day had a different dream and passed a +secret judgment; each had a vision, which was not divulged, of +possible or probable consequences which the event would have +relative to him or herself; each felt disturbed at the thought that +to-morrow might be quite different from what had been imagined. +Something was falling to pieces--habits, plans, a rule accepted or +submitted to for years. It was like a disorder, or a defeat mixed +with joy at the news. + +The youngest of all was the first to regain her freedom of mind. +Lucienne said: + +"Are we not going to have lunch because Jean lunches with us? My +dear, we are just like what we were before you came, not every day, +but sometimes--mute beings who think only for themselves. That is +quite contrary to the charms of meeting again. We are not going to +begin again. Tell me?" + +She began to laugh, as if from henceforward misunderstandings had +disappeared. She joked wittily about silent meals, about the parties +at Alsheim that finished at nine o'clock, the rare visits, and the +importance of an invitation received from Strasburg. And everybody +tacitly encouraged her to speak ill of the past, abolished by the +resolution of this man, thoroughly happy, master of himself, who was +watching and studying his sister with astonished admiration. + +"Now," she said, "all is going to change. From now to October we +shall be five instead of four under the roof of Alsheim. Then you +will do your service; but that only lasts a year--and besides, you +will have leave?" + +"Every Sunday." + +"You will sleep here?" asked Madame Oberlé. + +"I should think so--on Saturday nights." + +"And a nice uniform. Do you know," continued Lucienne, "that Attila +tunic, cornflower colour, braided with yellow, black boots; but +above all I like the full dress sealskin busby, with its plume of +black-and-white horsehair--and the white frogs. It is one of the +handsomest uniforms in our army." + +"Yes, one of the handsomest in the German army," Madame Oberlé +hastened to correct, wishing to make amends for the unlucky words of +her daughter, for the grandfather had made a gesture with his hand +as if to rub out something from the cloth. + +M. Joseph Oberlé added, laughing: + +"And equally one of the dearest. I am giving you a nice present, +Jean, in leaving you to choose the Rhenish Hussars, No. 9, as your +regiment. I shall not get off for less than eight thousand marks." + +"Do you think so? As expensive as that?" + +"I am sure of it. Only yesterday, at the Councillor Von Boscher's, +before two officers, I mentioned the amount which I thought exact, +and no one contradicted me. Officially, the one year's service man +in the infantry should spend two thousand two hundred marks; in +reality he spends four thousand. In the artillery he should spend +two thousand seven hundred, and spends five thousand; in the cavalry +the difference is still more; and when people maintain that you can +finish the business with three thousand six hundred marks they are +making fun of you. You must reckon seven or eight thousand marks. +That is what I contend, and what I uphold." + +"The regiment is admirably made up, father," interrupted Lucienne. + +"A good deal of fortune in fact...." + +"A good deal of nobility also, mixed with the sons of the rich +manufacturers on the banks of the Rhine." + +A quick smile of intelligence passed between Lucienne and her +father. Jean was the only one who noticed it. Scarcely had the young +girl had time to straighten her lips when she said: + +"The volunteer places in the regiment are taken up so quickly that +it is necessary to apply early in order to get one." + +"I spoke to your colonel three months ago," said M. Oberlé. "You +will be recommended to several of the chiefs." + +Lucienne chimed in giddily: + +"You will be able to bring some here; it would be amusing!" + +Jean did not answer. Madame Oberlé blushed, as she often did when a +word too much had been said before her. Lucienne was laughing again, +when the grandfather stopped eating, and painfully, by jerks, each +of which must have been painful, turned his sad, white head towards +his grand-daughter. The eyes of the old Alsatian must have spoken a +language very easy to translate, for the young girl ceased laughing, +made a gesture of impatience as if she said, "Oh! I did not remember +that you were here," and bent towards her father to offer him some +Wolxheim wine, but really to escape the reproach she felt weighing +on her. + +The three others, M. Joseph Oberlé, Jean, and his mother, as if they +were agreed not to prolong the incident, began to talk of the +service, men at the St. Nicolas barracks, but hurriedly, multiplying +their words and their signs of interest with useless gestures. + +No one dared raise his head in the direction of the grandfather. M. +Philippe Oberlé continued to stare with his look as implacable as +remorse, at his grand-daughter, guilty of a giddy and regrettable +speech. The meal was shortened owing to the general awkwardness, +which had become almost unbearable, when M. Philippe Oberlé, begged +by his daughter-in-law to forget what Lucienne had said, had +answered "No," and refused to eat further. + +Ten minutes later, Lucienne went into the alleys of the park, to +rejoin her brother, who had gone out before and was lighting a +cigar. Hearing her approach behind him, he turned round. She was no +longer laughing. She had put on no hat, in spite of the wind, which +disarranged her hair; but having thrown a shawl of white wool round +her shoulders, no longer trying to charm but become all at once +passionate and domineering, she ran up to him. + +"You saw it? It is intolerable!" + +Jean lit his cigar, clasping his hands to protect the lighted match, +then throwing away the glowing vesta. + +"Without doubt, but one must learn to put up with it, little one." + +"There is no little one," she interrupted quickly, "there is a +grown-up one, on the contrary, who wants to have a clear explanation +with you. We have been separated for a long time, my dear, we must +learn to know each other, for I hardly know you and you do not know +me. I am going to help you--don't be afraid--I came for that." + +He had a look of admiration for this fine creature violently moved, +who had deliberately come to him; then, without losing his calmness, +feeling that his part and his man's honour commanded him to be judge +and not to get excited in his turn, he began to walk along by the +side of Lucienne, in the alley which ran between a clump of trees on +one side and the lawn on the other. + +"You can speak to me, Lucienne--you may be sure...." + +"Of your discretion? I thank you. I do not want any this morning. I +came simply to explain to you my way of thinking on a certain point, +and I am not going to make any mystery about it. I repeat that it is +intolerable. You may say nothing here about Germany or the Germans, +if it is not something bad. As soon as one has a word of praise or +only of justice for them mamma bites her lips, and grandfather makes +a disgraceful scene and shames me in front of the servants, as +happened just now. Is it a crime to say to a volunteer: 'You will +bring us some officers to Alsheim'? Can we prevent you serving your +turn in a German regiment, in a German town, commanded by officers +who, in spite of being Germans, are not the less men of the world?" + +She walked nervously, and with her right hand twisted a gold chain +which she wore on her mauve bodice. + +"If you knew, Jean, what I have suffered by this want of liberty in +the house, to find our parents so different from what they have had +us trained to be. For I ask, why did they give it to me?" + +The young man took the cigar he was smoking from his lips: + +"Our education, Lucienne? It was only our father who wished it." + +"He alone is intelligent." + +"Oh, how can you speak like that of your mother?" + +"Understand clearly," she answered, embarrassed. "I am not of those +who hide one half of their thoughts and who make the others +unrecognisable because of the flowery language they are wrapped up +in. I love mamma very much more than you think, but I judge her +also. She is possessed of intelligence as regards household affairs; +she is refined; she has some little taste for literature, but she +cannot deal intelligently with general questions. She does not see +farther than Alsheim. My father has understood far better the +position which is given us in Alsace; he has been enlightened by his +intercourse, which is very wide and of all kinds, by his commercial +interest and by his ambition...." + +And as Jean made a questioning movement: "What ambition do you +mean?" + +Lucienne continued: "I surprise you; yes, for a young girl, as you +said, I seem audacious and even irreverent. Is it not true?" + +"A little." + +"My dear Jean, I am only anticipating your own judgment--only +hindering you from losing time in comparative psychological studies. +You have just come home, I left school two years and a half ago. I +am letting you benefit by my experience. Well, there is no doubt +about it: our father is ambitious. He has all that is necessary for +success. A will of iron for his inferiors, much flexibility +_vis-à-vis_ others, wealth, a quickness of mind which makes him the +superior of all the manufacturers or German officials we meet here. +I prophesy you that now that he is in favour with the Stadthalter +you will not be long in seeing him a candidate for the Reichstag." + +"That is impossible, Lucienne." + +"Perhaps; but it will come to pass, nevertheless; I am sure of it. I +do not say that he will stand for Obernai, but for some place in +Alsace, and he will be elected, because he will be supported by the +Government and he will settle the price.... Perhaps you did not give +this a place in your calculations when you decided to return to +Alsheim? I know I upset your ideas. You will have many such +disturbances. What you must know, my dear Jean"--she laid stress on +the word "dear"--"is that the home of the family is not an amusing +one. We are irremediably divided." + +Jean and Lucienne were silent for a moment, because the lodge was +quite near; then they turned towards the lawn and took the second +alley, which led to the house. + +"Irremediably? You believe this?" + +"It would be childish to doubt it. My father will not change and +will not become French again, because that would be to give up his +future for ever, and many commercial advantages. Mamma will not +change, because she is a woman, and because to become a German +would be to give up a sentiment which she thinks very noble. You +surely do not aim at converting grandfather? Well then?" + +She stopped and faced Jean. + +"Well, my dear, as you cannot bring peace into the family by +gentleness, bring it by being strong. Do not imagine you can remain +neutral. Even if you would, circumstances will not permit it. I am +sure of that. Join with me and father, even if you do not think as +we do in everything. + +"I have sought you out to implore you to be on our side. When mamma +understands that her two children think her wrong she will defend +her childhood's memories less energetically; she will advise +grandfather to abstain from demonstrations like those of to-day, and +our meals will be less like combats at close quarters. We shall +command the situation. It is all that we can hope for. Will you? +Papa told me, quickly this morning, that your tenderness for the +Germans was not a lively one. But you do not hate them?" + +"No." + +"I only ask for tolerance and a certain amount of consideration for +them--that is to say, for us who see them. You have lived ten years +in Germany; you will continue to do here what you did there. You +will not leave the drawing-room when one of them comes to see us?" + +"Of course not. But you see, Lucienne, even if I act differently +from mamma, because my education has made me put up with what is +odious to her, I cannot blame her. I can find the most touching +reasons why she should be what she is." + +"Touching?" + +"Yes." + +"I find them unreasonable." + +Jean's green eyes and Lucienne's lighter ones questioned one another +for a moment. The two young people, both grave, with an expression +of astonishment and defiance, measured each other and thought: "Is +it she I saw just now so smiling and so tender?" "Is it really he +who resists me, a brother brought up like me, and who ought to yield +to me, if it were only because I am young and he is glad to see me +again?" She was displeased. This first meeting had placed in +opposition the paternal violence which Lucienne had inherited and +the inflexible will which the mother had transmitted to her son. It +was Lucienne who broke the silence. She turned to continue the walk, +and shaking her head: + +"I see," she said. "You imagine that you will have a confidante in +mamma, a friend to whom you can open your heart fully? She is worthy +of all respect, my dear. But there again you are mistaken. I have +tried. She is, or thinks she is, too miserable. All you tell her +will immediately serve her as an argument in her own quarrel. If you +wished, for example, to marry a German----" + +"No, no; but no." + +"I am only supposing. Mamma would go at once to find my father, and +would say to him: 'Look at this! It is horrible! It is your fault! +Yours!' And if you wished to marry an Alsatian our mother would at +once take advantage of it and say: 'He is on my side, against you, +against you.' No, my dear, the real, true confidante at Alsheim is +Lucienne." + +She took Jean's hand, and without ceasing to walk she looked up at +him, her face beaming with life and youthfulness. + +"Believe me, let us be frank with each other. You do not know me +well. You have travelled so much. I astonish you. You will see that +I have great faults. I am proud and selfish, hardly capable of +making sacrifices; something of a flirt, but I have no roundabout +ways. Lately, when I was looking forward to your arrival, I +promised myself a lasting joy, the joy of having your youth near +mine to understand it. I will tell you all that is important in my +life, all that I am resolved to do--I have no one here whom I can +trust absolutely. You cannot know what I have suffered. Will you?" + +"Oh yes." + +"You will tell me your thoughts, but above all I shall have spoken +to you. I shall not suffocate, as I have often done in this house. I +shall have many things to tell you. It will be some way of regaining +the intimacy we have almost lost, and will give us a little tardy +fraternal companionship. What are you thinking about?" + +"About this poor house." + +Lucienne lifted her eyes above the slate roof which rose in front. +She wished to say, "If you knew how sad it really is," then she +embraced her brother, and said: + +"I am not so bad as you think me, brother, nor so ungrateful to +mamma. I am going to find her to talk about your return. She +certainly wants to speak of her happiness to some one." + +Lucienne left her brother, turning again to smile at him, and +walking as a goddess might, with steps free and finely poised, with +her hand replacing the pins which held up her hair so badly, +disarranged as it was by the walk and blown about by the wind, she +took the fifty steps which separated her from the staircase, and +disappeared. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE GUARDIANS OF THE HEARTH + + +When Lucienne left Jean he had turned round the house, crossed a +semicircular court formed by stables and coach-houses, then a large +kitchen-garden surrounded by walls, and opening a private door at +the end on the right he found himself in the country, behind the +village of Alsheim. His first joy at his return had already lessened +and faded. He heard again sentences which had sunk into the depths +of his soul; their very accent came back to him with the appearance +and the gesture of the one who had uttered them. + +He thought of the "sad house" there quite close to the wall which +enclosed the grounds, and it pained him to remember what an entirely +different idea he had formed years ago of the welcome which awaited +him at Alsheim, and the almost religious emotion he had felt far +away, in the towns and on the roads of Europe and the East, when he +thought, "My mother, my father, my sister! My first day at home +after my father has said yes!" The first day had begun. It had not +been, up to the present, worthy of this old-time dream. + +Even the weather was bad. Before him the plain of Alsace, smooth, +scarcely marked with some lines of trees, stretched out to the foot +of the Vosges, covered with forests which made their height appear +less than it was. The north wind, blowing from the sea, filling all +the valley with its continuous wailing, chased the dark clouds from +the sky, broken and heaped together like furrows in fields, clouds +full of rain and hail, which would dissolve in compact masses to +fall in the south, on the side of the Alps. It was cold. + +Meanwhile Jean Oberlé, having looked to the left, from the side +where the land declined a little, perceived the avenue ending in a +little wood, which he had seen in the morning, and he felt again +that his youth called to _her_. He made sure no one was watching him +from the windows of his home, and he took the path which turned +round the village. + +It was really only a track traced by people going to, and coming +from work. It followed very nearly the zigzag line made by the +sheds, the pig-styes, the stables, the barns, the low boundaries +commanded by the manure-heaps, fowl-houses, all the back buildings +of the dwellings of Alsheim, which had on the other side, on the +road, their principal façade, or at least a white wall, a cart-door, +and a great mulberry-tree overflowing the edge of it. The young man +walked quietly on the beaten track. He passed the church which, +almost in the centre of Alsheim, raised its square tower, surmounted +by a slate roof in the form of a steeple, with a metal point, and +came to the centre of a group of four enormous walnut-trees, serving +as landmarks, as ornament and shelter to the last farm in the +village. There began the property of M. Xavier Bastian, the mayor of +Alsheim, the old friend of M. Joseph Oberlé, a man of influence, +rich and patriotic, and to whose house Jean was going. The sound of +flails could be heard in the neighbouring yard. It must be the fine, +big sons of the Ramspacher, the Bastians' tenants. One had served +his time in the German army, the other was going to join his +regiment in the month of November. They were threshing under the +barn in the old style. Every autumn, every winter, when the miller's +store of corn diminished, and when the weather was bad outside, they +spread out some sheaves in the shelter, and their flails struck +blithely and galloped like colts let loose in high grass. Nothing +had stopped the tradition. + +"Isn't my Alsheim old?" said Jean to himself. Although he was very +anxious not to be recognised, he approached the latticed door which +opened on to the fields on this side, and if he did not see the +workers, hidden by an unharnessed cart, he saw again with a friendly +smile the yard of the old farm, a kind of road bordered with +buildings which were only apparently framework with a little earth +between the wooden beams, a demonstration of the everlasting +strength of the chestnut which had furnished the jambs, the raising +pieces, the wooden balconies, and the framework of the windows. No +one heard him, no one saw him. He went on his way and his heart +began to beat violently. For immediately after the farm of the +Ramspachers, the path fell, at right angles, to an avenue of +cherry-trees leading from the village to the house of M. Bastian. It +was not probable that in this bad weather the Mayor would be far +from home. In a few moments Jean would speak with him; he would meet +Odile; he would find some means of knowing if she were betrothed. + +Odile. All Jean's early childhood was full of that name. The +daughter of M. Bastian had formerly been the playfellow of Lucienne +and of Jean when the evolution of M. Oberlé had not been affirmed +and known in the country-side; a little later she had become the +charming vision which Jean saw again at the Munich Gymnasium when he +thought of Alsheim; the young, growing girl, whom one saw in the +holidays, on Sundays in church, whom one saluted without +approaching when Monsieur or Madame Oberlé were present, but also +the passer-by of the grape harvest and of the woods, and the walker +who had a smile for Lucienne or for Jean met at the turn of a road. +What secret enchantment did this girl of Alsheim possess, brought up +entirely in the country, except for two or three years passed with +the nuns of Notre-Dame in Strasburg, not worldly--less brilliant +than Lucienne, more silent and more grave? The same, no doubt, as +the country where she was born. Jean had left her, as he had left +Alsace, without being able to forget her. He had forbidden himself +to see her during his last short stay in Alsheim, in order to prove +himself and to find out if truly the memory of Odile would resist a +long separation, studies, and travels. He had thought: "If she +marries in the interval, it will be a proof that she has never +thought of me, and I shall not weep for her." She had not married. +Nothing showed that she was engaged. And certainly Jean was going to +see her again. + +He preferred not to go down the wild cherry avenue, celebrated for +its beauty, which guarded the Bastians' property. The people of the +little town, the few workers in the neighbouring country, although +they were few, would have recognised the manufacturer's son going to +the Mayor of Alsheim's. He followed the trimmed blackthorn hedge, +which bounded the alley, walking on the red earth or on the narrow +border of grass left by the plough at the edge of the ditch. Behind +him the noise of the flails in the barn followed him, fading in the +distance and scattered by the wind. Jean asked himself: "How shall I +approach M. Bastian? How will he receive me? Bah! I arrive; I am +supposed to be ignorant of much!" + +Two hundred yards to the south of the farm the avenue of wild +cherries ended, and the grove, which one saw from so far off, +bordered the sown fields. The wood was composed of fine old trees, +oaks, planes, and elms, at this time bare of leaves--under which +evergreen trees had grown up: pines, spindletrees, and laurels. Jean +continued to follow the hedge as it curved across a field of lucerne +to a rustic gate, with worn paint and half rotten, which rose +between two jambs. A piece of sandstone thrown across the ditch +served as a bridge. The laurel-trees growing out over the fence of +blackthorn on each side of the upright posts, closed in the view at +two yards. When Jean came near, a blackbird flew off, uttering a +warning note. Jean remembered that to enter one had only to pass +one's hand through the hedge and to lift an iron hook. So he opened +the door, and, a little uneasy at his audacity, grazed from his coat +to his gaiters by the overgrown branches of an alley far too narrow +and hardly ever entered, he came out on to a sanded space, passed +several clumps of shrubs edged with box, and arrived at the house on +the far side from Alsheim. Here there were plane-trees more than a +hundred years old, planted in a semi-circle, which sheltered a tiny +lawn and spread their branches over the tiles of an old, low, squat +house, from which two balconies projected, topped with overhanging +roofs. Store-rooms, presses, barns, and a bee-hive formed the +continuation of the master's house, where abundance, good nature, +and the simplicity of the old Alsatian homely spirit were in +evidence. Jean, kept back for a moment by the irresistible +attraction of these places, once so familiar to him, looked at the +plane-trees, the roof, a window with a balcony on which ivy grew. He +was going to take the few steps which separated him from the +half-open door, when on the threshold a tall man appeared, and +recognising the visitor made a sign of surprise. It was M. Xavier +Bastian. No man of sixty years of age in the division of Erstein was +more robust or of a more youthful turn of mind. He had wide +shoulders, a massive head, as wide below as above, quite white hair, +divided in short locks overlapping each other, his cheeks and the +upper lip shaven, the nose large, the eyes fine and grey, the mouth +thickset, and on his countenance the sort of prepossessing pride of +those who have never known fear of anything. He wore the long +frock-coat to which many notable Alsatians remained faithful, even +in the villages such as Alsheim, where the inhabitants have no +special costume or any memory of having had any. + +Seeing Jean Oberlé, whom he had often dandled on his knees, he made +a movement of surprise. + +"Is it you, my boy?" he said, in the dialect of Alsace, which he +mostly used, and with which he was more familiar than with French. +"What has happened to bring you here?" + +"Nothing, M. Bastian, if not that I have just come home." + +He held out his hand to the old Alsatian, who took it, pressed it, +and suddenly lost that gaiety which had been in his welcome, for he +thought: "It is now ten years since your father last came here, ten +years that your family and mine have been enemies." But he only +said, in answer to himself, and as if doing away with an objection: + +"Come in all the same, Jean; there is no harm for once." + +But the gladness of the first meeting was gone, and did not return. + +"How did you know that I was on your land?" asked Jean, who did not +understand. "Did you hear me?" + +"No; I heard the blackbird. I thought it was my servant, whom I have +sent to Obernai to get the lamps of my victoria mended. Come into +the hall." + +He thought, with a feeling of regret and reprobation: "As your +father used to come in when he was worthy." + +In the corridor to the left he opened a door, and both went into the +"big room," which was at the same time the dining-room and the +reception-room of this rich citizen, heir of lands and of the +traditions of a long series of ancestors, who had only left the +house at Alsheim for the cemetery. Nearly all the picturesque +furniture which one still meets with in the old houses of rural +Alsace had disappeared from the dwelling of M. Bastian. No more +carved cupboards; no more chairs of solid wood, with the backs cut +in the shape of hearts; no clock in its painted case; no more little +weights at the windows. The few chairs in the big, square, light +hall, the table, the cupboard, and the big chest, on the top of +which was the cast of a Pietà not known to fame, were all of +polished walnut. The only thing that was old was the historical +stove of faience, bearing the signature of Master Hugelin of +Strasburg, and of which M. Bastian was as proud as if it had been a +treasure. About two-thirds down the room, between the stove and the +table, a woman of about fifty was sitting, dressed in black, rather +stout, having regular, thick features, bands of grey hair, the +forehead almost without lines, fine long eyebrows, and eyes as dark +as if she had come from the south, calm and dignified, which she +lifted first to Jean and then to her husband as if to ask, "How does +he come here?" + +She was sewing the hem of an unbleached linen sheet, which fell +about her in big folds. Seeing Jean enter, she dropped it. She +remained dumb with surprise, not understanding how her husband could +bring to her the son, educated in Germany, of a renegade father, +traitor to Alsace. During the war she had had three brothers killed +in the service of France. + +"I met him coming to see me," M. Bastian said, as if to excuse +himself, "and I begged him to enter, Marie." + +"Good day, madame," said the young man, who was hurt by the +astonishment and coolness of Madame Bastian's first glance, and who +had stopped in the middle of the hall. "Old memories brought me +here." + +"Good day, Jean." + +The words died away before reaching the walls, papered with old +peonies. One could hardly hear them. The silence which followed was +so cruel that Jean grew pale, and M. Bastian, who had shut the door, +and who, a little behind Jean, was scolding gently, with a shake of +the head, those beautiful, severe eyes of the Alsatian woman, which +did not lower themselves, intervened, saying: + +"I have not told you, Marie, that I saw our friend Ulrich this +morning in our vineyards of Sainte Odile. He spoke to me of this +boy's return to Alsheim. He assured me that we ought to congratulate +ourselves that we are going to see his nephew settle in the country. +He told me that he was one of ours." + +The silent lips of the Alsatian wore a vague smile of incredulity, +which died as the words died. And Madame Bastian again began to sew. + +Jean turned round, pale, as yet more miserable than irritated, and +said in a low voice to M. Bastian: + +"I knew that our two families were divided, but not to such an +extent as they evidently are. I left Alsheim some time ago. You will +excuse me for having come." + +"Stay, stay! I will explain to you. Believe me that we have nothing +against you, no animosity whatever, neither one nor the other." + +The old man placed his hand on Jean's arm in a friendly manner: + +"I do not want you to go like that. No; since you are here I will +not let you say that I have sent you away without doing the +honours. The thought would weigh heavy on me. I will not!" + +"No, M. Bastian, I ought not to be here. I am in the way; I cannot +stay one instant." + +He moved to go away. The solid hand of the old Mayor of Alsheim +fastened round the wrist he held. His voice rose and became harsh. + +"Presently. But do not at least refuse the civility I am accustomed +to show to all who come here. It is the custom of the country and of +the house. Drink with me, Jean Oberlé, or I shall repudiate you, and +we shall not even recognise each other." + +Jean remembered that no house in the country round Barr or Obernai, +not even the oldest and richest, possessed better recipes for making +beam-tree-berry brandy or cherry brandy, or elderberry wine, or wine +made with dried grapes, or spring drinks. He saw that the old Mayor +of Alsheim would be deeply hurt by a refusal, and that the offer was +a means of showing his cordiality without disavowing in words, or in +thought, the mother, queen, and mistress of the big house, who +continued to ignore the guest, because the guest was the son of +Joseph Oberlé. + +"So be it," he said. + +Then M. Bastian called, "Odile!" + +The hands that held the linen, near the stove, rested on the folds +of her black dress, and for half a minute there were three human +beings, each with very different thoughts, who awaited her who was +going to enter at the end of the room, on the right, near the great +walnut cupboard. She came out of the shadow of a neighbouring room +and advanced into the light, while Jean controlled his feelings and +was saying to himself, "I did well to remember her!" + +"Give me the oldest brandy that we have," said the father. + +Odile Bastian had at first smiled at her father, whom she saw near +the door, then she had, with a movement of her brown eyebrows, shown +her astonishment, without displeasure, when she recognised Jean +Oberlé near him; then the smile had disappeared when she saw her +mother, bending over her work-table, dumb and holding herself aloof +from what was going on around her. Then her bosom heaved, the words +she was going to say were arrested before reaching her lips; and +Odile Bastian, too intelligent not to guess the affront, too much a +woman to emphasise the secret trouble, had simply and silently +obeyed. She had sought a key in the drawer of a chest, had gone to +the big cupboard, and raising herself on the tips of her toes, one +hand leaning on one of the doors at the top of the piece of +furniture, her head thrown back, she ransacked the depths of the +hiding-place. + +She was just the same girl, but more developed, who had lived in +Jean's memory for years, and who had followed him over the world. +Her features were not regular. But in spite of that she was +beautiful, with a strong, glowing beauty. She seemed like the +statues of Alsace, which one sees on monuments and in French +souvenir pictures, like those daughters of rich and warlike blood, +wrathful and daring, while near them a more feminine Lorraine weeps +sadly. She was tall; there were no hollows in her full cheeks, +curving to a chin as firm and pink. It is true she did not wear the +wide bows of black ribbon which make two wings on the head, but that +only accentuated the unusual, the exceptional beauty of her hair, +which was of the colour of ripe corn, of a perfectly dull, even +tint, bound in bands round her temples and there twisted and raised +on her head. Her eyebrows were of the same colour, long and finely +marked, and the lashes, and even the eyes, slightly apart, where +dwelt a soul at rest, were deep and passionate. In a moment M. +Bastian had on a stand two glasses of cut crystal and a big-bellied +black bottle. He took the bottle in one hand and with the other he +drew out, without shaking it, a cork which swelled out as it left +the neck, being damp as sapwood in spring time. At the same time a +smell of ripe fruit was diffused under the beams of the room. + +"It is fifty years old," said he, pouring a little of the liqueur +into each of the glasses. + +He added seriously, "I drink to your health, Jean Oberlé, and to +your return to Alsheim!" + +But Jean, without answering directly, and with every one silent, and +looking at Odile, who had withdrawn to the cupboard, and who, +standing erect against it, was also looking at and studying her old +playfellow returned to his native country, said: + +"I drink to the land of Alsace!" + +By the tone of the words, by the gesture of the hand raising the +little sparkling glass, by the look fixed on the end of the room, +some one understood that the land of Alsace was here personified and +present. The tall, beautiful daughter of the Bastians remained +motionless, leaning against the cupboard, which framed her in its +yellowish shadow. But her eyes had the brightness that wheat has +when it waves at a breath of wind in the sunshine, and without +turning her head, without ceasing to look straight in front of her, +her eyelids slowly lowered and shut, saying thank you! + +And that was all. + +Madame Bastian had not even looked up. Odile had said not a +word--Jean bowed and went out. + +The old Mayor of Alsheim rejoined him outside. + +"I will go with you to the other end of my garden," he said, "for it +is better for us--for you--and for your father, that you should not +be seen coming down the avenue. You will seem to be coming from the +fields." + +"What a strange country this has become!" said the young man in an +angry tone. "Because you do not hold the same opinions as my father +you cannot receive me, and when I leave you I must do so secretly, +and after having had to submit to the insult of a silence which was +hard to bear. I can tell you that!" + +He spoke loudly enough to be heard from the house, from which he was +only a few steps away. The usual paleness of his complexion was more +noticeable, and emotion contracted the muscles of his neck and jaws, +and all his face had a tragic expression. + +M. Bastian led him on. + +"I have another reason for taking you that way," he said, "it will +be longer, and I have things to explain to you." + +They took a path that was not gravelled, which went by the +plane-trees, passed a kitchen garden and then crossed a little wood. + +"You do not understand, dear boy," said M. Bastian, in a voice which +was firm without being harsh, "because you have not yet really lived +among us. It has not changed; what you see dates back for thirty +years." + +Through an opening in the trees they saw a little bit of the plain, +with the belfry of Barr in the distance, and the blue Vosges +mountains above and beyond. + +"Formerly," continued M. Bastian, pointing vaguely to the country, +"our Alsace was just one family. Big and little knew each other and +lived happily together. You know that even now I make no difference +between rich and poor, between a citizen of Strasburg and a +wood-cutter from the mountain. But what is done is done--we have +been torn away, against our will, from France, and treated brutally +because we did not say 'Yes.' We cannot revolt--we cannot drive +away our masters, who know nothing about our hearts or our lives. +But we do not admit them to our friendship, neither them nor those +amongst us who have taken the side of the stronger." + +He stopped speaking for a moment, not wishing to say all that he +thought on this subject, and went on, taking Jean's hand. + +"You are very angry with my wife because of her reception of you; +but you are not the cause of it, neither is she. Until the doubt +which rests on you is lifted, you are he who was educated in +Germany, and the woman you have just seen is this country. +Reflect--you must not bear a grudge against her. We have not all +been faithful to Alsace, we men; and the best of us have compromised +and have more or less recognised the new master. Not so the +women--Ah! Jean Oberlé, I have not the courage to disclaim them even +when you whom I love so well are the subject. Our Alsatian women are +not insulting you in any ordinary way when they do not receive you; +they are defending their country, they are carrying on the war." The +old man had tears in his red and wrinkled eyes. + +"You will know me later," said Jean. + +They were at the end of the little park before a wooden door as +mouldy as the other. M. Bastian opened it, shook the young man's +hand and stayed a long time at the end of the wood watching Jean go +away and get smaller on the plain, his head bent against the wind, +which was still blowing, and more violently. + +Jean was troubled to the depth of his soul. + +Between him and each family in this old country he felt he was going +to find his father. He was suffering from having been born in the +house towards which he was going. He saw the image of Odile as the +only sweet thing of this first day, and her eyes were slowly, slowly +closing. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +COMPANIONS OF THE ROAD + + +The winter did not allow M. Oberlé's ideas about the professional +education of Jean to be carried out exactly. The snow which remained +on the summits of the Vosges, without being thick, made travelling +very difficult. So Jean paid only two or three visits to the +wood-cutting centres situated near Alsheim and in the Vosges +valleys. The excursions to more distant places were put off for a +warmer season. But he learned to cube a pine or a beech without +making a mistake, to value it according to the place it occupied in +the forest, according to the height of the trunk below the branches, +the appearance of the bark, which indicated the health of the tree, +and by other calculations into which a kind of divining quality +enters, which cannot be taught anywhere, and which makes the expert. +His father initiated him into the working of the factory and the +management of the machines, the reading of agreements, and the +traditions of fifty years kept up by the Oberlés regarding sale and +carriage contracts. He put him into relationship with two officials +of the administration of the forests of Strasburg, who showed +themselves very ready to be of service, and proposed to Jean to +explain to him personally the new forest legislation, of which he +still knew but little. "Come," said the younger, "come to see me at +my office, and I will tell you more things you will find it useful +to know than you will learn in books. For the law is the law, but +the administration is another thing." + +Jean promised to profit when occasions offered themselves. But +several weeks went by without his having the time to go to the town. +Then March came in mildly and melted the snows. In a week, and much +earlier than usual, the brooks swelled to overflowing, and the high +peaks of the Vosges and Sainte Odile which one could see from +Alsheim, which had had their slopes and paths white with snow, +appeared in their summer robes of dark and pale green. + +The walks round Alsheim were going to be exquisite and such as the +young man had pictured to himself in his youthful memories. The +home, without being a model of family unity, had witnessed no +repetition of the painful scene which occurred the day after Jean's +return. In each camp words were noted and deeds observed, which +would one day become arguments and subjects of reproach and +discussion, but just now there was a sort of truce brought about by +different causes. + +In M. Joseph Oberlé it was the desire not to be wrong in his son's +eyes; for his son was going to be useful, and he did not wish to be +accused of provocation. In Lucienne it was the diversion which the +presence of her brother had brought into her life, and the interest, +not yet exhausted, that she took in his tales of travel and student +life. In Madame Oberlé it was fear of making her son suffer, and of +alienating him by letting him see the family feuds. Nothing had +really changed. There was only a superficial gaiety, an appearance +of peace, a truce. But although Jean felt that the agreement of the +hearts and minds around him was not real, he enjoyed it because he +had spent long years in moral solitude. + +The worries and clashing of interests came from elsewhere, and were +not wanting. Nearly every day Jean had occasion to go through the +village of Alsheim, which was built on each side of three roads +forming a fork, the handle of which was the mountain side, and the +two prongs towards the plain. At the bifurcation was the tavern, the +Swan, which took up a corner of the church square. A little farther +on, on the left road leading to Bernhardsweiler, dwelt the German +workmen engaged by M. Joseph Oberlé, and lodged in little houses all +alike, each with a little garden in front. So that in whatever part +of Alsheim he showed himself, the young man could not help reading, +in the faces and gestures of those he met, different opinions, and +all equally distressing. The Germans and their wives--the workmen, +better disciplined and more tame-spirited than the Alsatians, +fearing all authority without respecting it, quartered in a corner +of Alsheim by the hatred of the population on which they hoped to +take vengeance some day, when they should be the more numerous, +having with the other inhabitants no ties of origin, family, +customs, or religion--could only have indifference or hostility for +the master, which were badly disguised by the salutations of the +men, and the furtive smiles of the women. + +But many of the Alsatians were less under restraint. It was enough +that Jean had entered the business and that he was seen constantly +with his father, for their disapproval to extend to him. He saw +himself covered with a prudent contempt, the kind that little people +can always express towards powerful neighbours. The forest workmen, +the labourers, the women, and even the children pretended not to see +him when he passed, others withdrew into their houses; others, the +old ones especially, watched the rich man come and go as if he had +been from another country. Those who showed the most signs of +respect were the tradesmen or the employés, or the relations of the +employés of the house. And Jean found it difficult to bear the +reopening of this wound each time he left the park. + +On Sunday, at church, in the whitewashed nave, he waited for the +coming of Odile. To reach the seat reserved for her family for +years, which was the first on the Epistle side, she had to pass near +Jean. She passed, with her father and her mother, without any of +them appearing to know that Jean was there, and M. Oberlé, and +Lucienne. She only smiled at the end of Mass, when she came down the +aisle, but she smiled at whole rows of friendly faces, at women, old +men, at big boys who would have died for her, and at the children of +the choir, the chanters of the "Concordia," who scampered off by the +sacristy door, to be able to salute, surround, and welcome at the +door the daughter of M. Bastian, the Alsatian girl, the friend, the +beloved of all this poor village; she did not give away more money +than Madame Oberlé, but they knew that there was no division in her +house, no treachery, and that the only difference between it and the +other houses in the valleys and mountains of Alsace was its wealth. +What did she think of Jean? She, whose eyes never spoke in vain, did +not look at him. She who used to speak to him in the roads now said +nothing. + +The first month of Jean's new life passed away like this in Alsheim. +Then spring was born. M. Joseph Oberlé waited two days and then, +seeing the buds of his birch-trees burst in the sunshine, he said to +his son on the third day: + +"You are a good enough apprentice now to go alone and inspect our +timber-yard in the Vosges. You will get ready to start. This year I +have made exceptional purchases. I have cuttings as far as the +Schlucht, and to visit them you will have to visit nearly all the +Vosges. I give you no instructions, only observe, and bring me a +report, in which you will note down your observations of each of our +cuttings." + +"When shall I start?" + +"To-morrow, if you like--the winter is over." M. Oberlé said that +with the assurance of a man who has had need to know the weather +like a peasant, and who knows it. He had, before speaking, ordered a +list to be prepared of the cuttings of wood bought by the house +either from the German State or from the Communes, or from private +people, with the detailed directions on the position they occupied +in the mountains, and he gave this list to Jean. + +There were a dozen cuttings distributed over the whole length of the +Vosges, from the valley of the Bruche on the north to the mouth of +the Schlucht. + +The next day Jean put a little linen and a change of shoes in a bag, +and without telling any one of his intention hurried to the +mountain, and up to the lodge of Heidenbruch. + +The square house, with green shutters, and the meadow, and the +forest all round the clearing, were smoking as if a fire had +devoured the heath and grass, and left the beech and pines intact. +Long wreaths of mist seemed to emanate from the soil, and to grow +tenuous, and uniting, lose themselves in the low clouds, which +glided along, rising from the valleys and going up the slopes +towards the invisible monastery of Sainte Odile. The humidity +penetrated to the very depths of the forests. It was everywhere. +Drops of water shone on the pine needles, streamed in threads down +the bare trunks of the beeches, polished the pebbles, swelled the +many mosses, and travelling over the land, and flowing on dead +leaves, went to swell the brooks, whose cadenced song could be heard +on all sides--the grasshopper of winter whose song never ceases. + +Jean went up to the middle of the wooden palisade painted green, +which surrounded Heidenbruch, passed through the gate, and in the +front of the lodge called out gaily to the windows closed because of +the fog, "Uncle Ulrich." + +A cap appeared behind the window panes, the cap of an Alsatian woman +who takes care of her big black ribbons--and under the cap there was +the smile of an old friend. + +"Lise, tell uncle!" + +This time the last window to the left opened, and the refined face, +the eyes of a watcher, the pointed beard of M. Ulrich Biehler were +framed between two shutters thrown back against the white wall. + +"Uncle, I have at least a dozen wood-cutting places to visit. I +begin this morning, and I come to take you for a companion, to-day, +to-morrow, and every day...." + +"Twelve journeys in the forest," answered his uncle, who leaned, his +arms crossed, on the window sill, "this is a fine ending to Lent! My +compliments on your mission!" He looked at his nephew in +walking-clothes, his strong, masculine face raised in the fog; he +was thinking that one could have sworn that he was a French officer, +and then, carried away by his imagination, he forgot to say whether +or not he would accompany his morning visitor. + +"Come, uncle," continued Jean. "Come! Don't refuse me! We will sleep +in the inns; you will show me Alsace." + +"I walked seven leagues yesterday, my friend!" + +"We will only do six to-day." + +"You really want me to come?" + +"An absence of three years, Uncle Ulrich, think of that, and a whole +education to go through!" + +"Well! I won't refuse you, Jean; I am too delighted that you should +have thought of me. I have even a second reason for agreeing to the +journey and to thank you for it. I will tell you presently." + +He shut the window. In the silence of the woods Jean heard him call +the old valet, who was second in command in Heidenbruch. + +"Pierre! Pierre! Ah! there you are! We are going for twelve days +into the mountains. I take you with me. You will pack my bag; put it +on your back with my nephew's bag. Take your shoes with the nails, +your stick, and you will go in front to the halting-place, while +Jean and I go to visit the cuttings. Do not forget my waterproof, +nor my pocket medicine chest." + +Going into the house, the young man saw Uncle Ulrich, full of +business and radiant, pass him, open the drawing-room door, go to +the wall, take down a long object in copper on two nails, and go +quickly upstairs again. + +"What are you taking away, uncle?" + +"My telescope." + +"Such an old one." + +"I cling to it, my friend; it belonged to my great uncle, General +Biehler. It saw the back of the Prussians at Jena!" + +Half an hour later, in the meadow on the slope in front of the house +was M. Ulrich, gaitered like Jean, with a soft hat, the telescope +slung over his shoulder, his dog gambolling round him; old Pierre +very dignified and solemn, carrying on his mountaineer's shoulders a +great pack wrapped in linen and fastened by straps; then Jean +Oberlé, bending over a staff-officer's map, which the others knew by +heart, discussing the two ways to go--the way of the baggage and the +way of the walkers. The discussion was short. The servant went on in +front, bearing to the left to reach the village where they would +sleep, while the uncle and nephew took a path to the middle of the +mountain--in a north-easterly direction. + +"So much the better that it is a long way," said M. Ulrich, when +they gained the shade of the wood. "So much the better. I wish it +were for a lifetime. Two people who understand one another and go +through the forest--what a dream!" + +He half shut his eyes, as painters do, and breathed in the mist with +pleasure. + +"Do you know," he added, in the way he would have confided to him +something delightful, "Do you know that we have had spring here for +three days? There it is--that's my second reason!" + +The forester said with enthusiasm what the manufacturer had said +without admiration. By the same signs he recognised that a new +season had begun. With his stick he pointed out to Jean the pine +buds, red like arbutus berries; the bursting bark on the beech +trunks, the shoots of wild strawberries running along the stones. In +the uncovered pathways the north wind still blew, but in the +hollows, the combes, the sheltered spots, one felt, in spite of the +fog, the first warmth of the sun, which goes to the heart and makes +men tremble, that warmth which touches the germ of the plants. + +That day, and during those which followed, uncle and nephew lived +under wood. They understood one another perfectly, whether they +spoke fully on any subject or were silent. M. Ulrich knew the forest +and the mountains by heart. He enjoyed this opportunity which had +been given him to explain the Vosges and to discover his nephew. +Jean's ardent youthfulness often amused him and recalled bygone +times. The instincts of the forester and hunter, slumbering in the +young man's heart, were ripening and strengthening. But he had also +his rage, his revolts, his juvenile threatening words, against which +the uncle protested but feebly, because he really approved of them. + +The plaint of Alsace rose to his ear for the first time, the +complaining cry the stranger does not hear and the conqueror only +half listens to, but can never understand. For Jean did not only +observe the forest; he also observed the people of the forest, from +the merchants and the officials, feudal lords on whom depend a +multitude almost past numbering, down to woodcutters, jobbers, +fellers, carters, charcoal burners, down even to wanderers, +shepherds, and swineherds, pedlars of dead wood, freebooters, +poachers, myrtle gatherers, who also gather mushrooms and wild +strawberries and raspberries. + +Introduced by Uncle Ulrich, or passing by in his shadow, he aroused +no suspicions. + +He talked freely with the people--in their words, their silence, and +in the atmosphere in which he lived day and night, he absorbed unto +himself the very soul of his race. Many did not know France, among +the young ones, and could not have said if they loved her, but even +those had France in their veins. They did not get on with the +German. A gesture, a look, an allusion, showed the secret disdain of +the Alsatian peasant for his conqueror. The idea of a yoke was +everywhere, and everywhere there was antipathy against the master +who only knew how to govern by fear. Other young men of the families +with traditions, instructed by their parents in the history of the +past, faithful without any precise hope, complained that the poor of +the mountain and plain were denied justice and subjected to +annoyances if they were suspected of the crime of regretting France. +They spoke of the tricks played by way of revenge on the custom +officers, on the police, on the forest guard--proud of their green +uniform and of their Tyrolese hat--the stories of smuggling and +desertion, of the Marseillaise sung in the taverns with closed +doors, of fêtes on French land, of perquisitions, domiciliary visits +and pursuits, of the comic or tragic duel, useless and exasperating, +between the strength of a great country and the mind of a small +one. When the latter suffered, its thoughts, inherited from +ancestors, through habit and from affection, went over the +mountains. + +There were also the old folk, and it was M. Ulrich's delight to make +them talk. When on the roads, and in the villages, he saw a man of +fifty years or more, and he knew him to be an Alsatian, it was +seldom that he himself was not recognised and that a mysterious +smile did not prepare the question for the Master of Heidenbruch: + +"Come, is this not another friend--a child of our family?" + +If M. Ulrich, by the expression of the face, by the movement of the +eyes, by a little fear sometimes, felt that his conclusion was +justified, he added in a low voice: + +"You--you have the face of a French soldier!" + +Then there were smiles or tears, sudden shocks to the heart, which +changed the expression of the face pallors, flushings, pipes taken +from the corner of the lips, and often, very often, a hand raised, +turned palm outwards, touching the brim of the felt hat, thus making +the military salute, as long as the two travellers were in sight. + +"Do you see him?" said Uncle Ulrich, quite softly; "if he had a +bugle he would play 'La Casquette.'" + +Jean Oberlé never ceased talking of France. He asked when he came to +the top of a mountain ridge: "Are we far from the frontier?" He made +the uncle tell him what Alsace was like under the "gentle +rule"--what liberty was enjoyed by each and all, how the towns were +administered? What difference was there between the French +gendarmes--whom M. Ulrich mentioned with a friendly smile as good +fellows, not too hard on the poor--and these German gendarmes, +common informers, brutal, always officious and full of zeal, whom +the whole of the Alsace of to-day hated? What was the name of that +prefect of the First Empire who placed by the roadsides of Lower +Alsace benches of stone of two tiers so that the women going to +market could sit down, and place at the same time their load above +them? "The marquis de Lezay Marnésia, my boy." + +"Tell me the story of our artists, of our deputies in the old days, +of our bishops. Tell me what Strasburg was like in your youth, and +what a sight it was when the military band played at Contades?" + +M. Ulrich, with the joy of living over again which mingles with all +our memories, remembered and related. While climbing and descending +the intersections of the Vosges he went through the history of +French Alsace. He had only to let his ardent heart speak, and it +made him weep. It also made him sing, with the gaiety of a child, +the songs of Nadaud, of Béranger, La Marseillaise, or the old Noels, +which he sang to the pointed arches of the forest. + +Jean took such a passionate interest in these evocations of old +Alsace, and he so naturally entered into the hatreds and revolts of +the present that his uncle, who was at first pleased at it as a sign +of good family, ended by growing uneasy. One evening, when they had +given alms to an old teacher, deprived of the right of teaching +French, and reduced to misery because she was too old to get a +German diploma, Jean's anger had carried him away. + +"My dear Jean," said the uncle, "you must be careful not to go too +far. You have to live with Germans." + +Since then M. Ulrich had avoided returning so often to the question +of the annexation. But alas! it was the whole of Alsace, it was the +landscape, the descending road, the sign of some shop, the women's +dress, the type of men, the sight of soldiers, the fortifications at +the top of a hill, a finger-post, the different items in a +newspaper bought in the Alsatian inn where they had dined in the +evening--it was every hour of the day which called their minds back +to the condition of Alsace, a nation conquered but not assimilated. +In vain did M. Ulrich answer more carelessly and quickly--he could +not hinder Jean's thought from travelling the road to the unknown. +And when they climbed together a neck of the Vosges, the elder man +saw with pleasure and apprehension Jean's eyes travel to seek the +horizon on the west, and gaze there as at some loved face. Jean did +not look so long at the east or the south. + +A fortnight was employed in visiting the forest of the Vosges, and +during this time M. Ulrich came back to Heidenbruch only twice for +some hours. The separation took place only on Palm Sunday, in a +village of the Valley of Münster. + +It was evening--the hour when the valleys of the German side of the +mountains were quite blue, and there was only a strip of light on +the last pines which surrounded the shade. M. Ulrich Biehler had +already said good-bye to this nephew, his dearest friend. + +The servant had taken the train that same morning for Obernai, M. +Ulrich, the collar of his cloak turned up because the cold was +piercing, had just whistled to Fidèle and was leaving the inn, when +Jean, in his blue hunting-costume, without a hat, came down the +flight of steps. + +"Again good-bye," he said. + +And as the uncle, very upset, and not wishing to show it, made a +sign with his hand to avoid words which might be tremulous-- + +"I will go with you to the last house of the village," continued +Jean. + +"Why, my boy, it is useless to prolong----" + +His head turned towards his uncle, and his uncle, looking down the +road, Jean began to walk. He commenced in his cajoling young voice: + +"I am inexpressibly sorry to leave you, Uncle Ulrich, and I must +tell you why. You understand before one says twenty words. You do +not contradict aggressively: when you are not of my opinion, I know +it by your mouth, which makes the point of your white beard +rise--that is all. You are kind. You do not get angry, and I feel +you are very decided. Other people's ideas all seem familiar to +you--you are able to answer them so easily; you are respected by the +weak. I was not accustomed to that on the other side of the Rhine." + +"Bah! bah!" + +"I even appreciate your fears about me." + +"My fears?" + +"Yes. Do you think that I did not see that there is another question +which interests me intensely, and of which you have not spoken to me +for six days?" + +This time Jean did not see his uncle's profile; he saw his full +face, and its expression was a little anxious. + +"My boy, I did that purposely," said M. Ulrich. "When you questioned +me, I told you what we were and what we are. And then I saw that I +must not insist too much, because you would be full of grief. You +see, grief is good for me; but for you, youth, it is better that you +should start off like the horses which have not yet run a race, and +only carry a very slight weight." + +The last house was passed. They were in the country, between a +stream strewn with many boulders, and a steep slope which joined the +forest up above. + +"Too late," said Jean Oberlé, holding out his hand and stopping, +"too late; you have said too much, Uncle Ulrich. I feel I belong to +the older times, as you do. And so much the worse, as to-morrow I +go up to the Schlucht. I shall see her--I shall say good day to our +country of France!" + +He laughed as he uttered these words. M. Ulrich shook his head once +or twice to scold him, but without answering, and he went away into +the mist. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE FRONTIER + + +The next day Jean started in the morning on foot to go to the +cutting bought by the House of Oberlé, which was situated on the +crest of the mountains, enclosing the valley, to the left of the +neck of the Schlucht, in the forest of Stosswihr. The way was +long--the soil made slippery by a recent shower; besides, Jean lost +several hours in going round a great rock he ought to have climbed. +The afternoon was well advanced when he came to a wood cabin at the +place where the road ended: just the time to talk to the German +foreman who directed, under the supervision of the forest +administration, the felling and transport of the firs; and the young +man, continuing his climb, passed the workmen from the timber-yard +coming down before the end of the day, to regain the valley. The +sun, still splendid, was about to disappear on the other side of the +Vosges. Jean was thinking with a beating heart of the frontier now +quite near; however, he would not ask the way of the men who saluted +him in passing, for he prided himself on hiding his emotions, and +his words might have betrayed him before this gang of woodcutters +released from work, and curious at the meeting. He entered the +cutting they had just left. Around him the pine-trees, branchless +and despoiled of their bark, were lying on the slopes, which they +seemed to light up by the whiteness of their trunks. They had +rolled--and stopped--one could not see why. At other times they had +made a barrier and placed themselves pell-mell like spilikins on a +game board. In the high forest there only remained one workman, an +old man dressed in dark clothes who, kneeling, tied up in his +handkerchief, a store of mushrooms he had gathered. When he had +finished tying the ends of the red stuff with his clumsy fingers he +got up, pushed his woollen cap well on to his head, and began to +descend, with long strides over the moss, his mouth open to the +odour of the forests. + +"Ah," said Jean, "one minute, my man." + +The man between two immense pine trunks, himself the colour of the +bark, turned his head. + +"Which is my nearest way to get to the neck of the Schlucht?" + +"Go down by the waterfall, the way I go, and then turn up again. But +do not go up there another two hundred yards, for then you go down +into France; you will find paths which will lead you to the +Schlucht. Good evening!" + +"Good evening!" + +The words rang out, soon lost in the vast silence. But one of them +went on speaking to Jean Oberlé's heart: "You will go down into +France." He was in a hurry to see her, this mysterious France, which +held such a large place in his dreams, in his life--she, who had +destroyed the unity of his family because the older members, some of +them at least, remained faithful to her charms. France, for whom so +many Alsatians had died and for whom so many others were waiting and +whom they were loving with that silent love which makes hearts sad. +So near him--she from whom he had been so jealously kept--she for +whom Uncle Ulrich, M. Bastian, his mother, his grandfather Philippe, +and thousands and thousands of others said a prayer every night! + +In a few minutes he had reached the top and begun his descent on the +other side. But the trees formed a thick curtain round him. And he +began to run to find a road and a free space to see France. He took +pleasure in sliding down and letting himself almost fall, head +foremost, seeking the desired opening. On this side of the mountain +the sun was touching the earth; here and there the air was still +warm; but the pines always made a wall. + +"Halt!" cried a man, showing himself suddenly, and coming out from +behind the trunk of a tree. Jean went on running some steps--carried +away by the impetus. Then he came back to the customs official who +had called to him. Then the man, who was a brigadier, young and +squat, with defective eyes, a little wild, two locks of yellow hair +framing the thick-set face--the real type of a man of the Vosges, +looked at the young man and said: + +"Why the devil did you run? I thought you were a smuggler." + +"I was trying to find a place to see a landscape in France...." + +"Does that interest you? You are from the other side?" + +"Yes." + +"Not a Prussian all the same?" + +"No; an Alsatian." + +The man smiled slightly and said, "That is better!" + +But Jean continued without taking up the conversation, and as if he +had forgotten his question, to look at this poor officer of France, +his face, his uniform, and to photograph them on his mind. The +officer seemed amused at his curiosity and said, laughing: + +"If it is a view you are after, you have only to follow me. I have +one which the Government offers me to complete my treatment." + +They both began to laugh, looking straight into each other's eyes +quickly--less for what the customs officer had said than because of +a certain sympathy which they felt for each other. + +"We have no time to lose," said the brigadier, "the sun is dying +down." + +They went on under the vault of pines, turning round a cliff of bare +rocks on which were planted at some distance two posts marking the +spot where Germany ended and where France began, and at the end +point, which was like a spur in the green, on a straight platform, +which had its bed down in the forest, they found a watch-house of +heavy planks of pines nailed on to the beams. From there one could +see an immense landscape, which went on and on, sloping down--as far +as human eye could see. In this moment and in the setting sun a pale +golden light bathed the terraced lands, forests, villages, and +rivers, the lakes of Retournemer and Longemer, softening the +reliefs, and casting a colour like that of corn on uncultivated +lands covered with heath. Jean remained standing, drinking in the +picture to intoxication, and kept silence, while his emotion +increased. He felt that the whole depth of his soul was full of joy. + +"How beautiful it is!" he said. + +The brigadier of customs, who was observing him from the corner of +his eye, was flattered by the other's unstinted praise of his native +district and answered: + +"It is tiring, but in summer it is good to walk--for those who have +the time. People come from Gérardmer, and from Saint Dié and +Remiremont and from farther still. Many people come from over +there----" + +Over his shoulder, with his thumb reversed and turned backwards, he +pointed to the country beyond the frontier. + +Jean was shown in which direction lay the three towns of which the +Custom House official had spoken. But he only followed his own +thought with attention. What delighted him was the clearness of the +air, and the idea of the illimitable, of the sweetness of life and +of fertility which came to his mind at the sight of the French land. +It was all he knew of France, what he had read, and what he had +heard his mother, grandfather, and uncle Ulrich talk about, what he +had pictured to himself, memories buried deep in his mind, which +rose again suddenly like millions of grains of corn to the call of +the sun. + +The brigadier was seated on a bench, along the side of the hut; he +had taken his short pipe from his pocket and was smoking. + +When he saw the visitor turn towards him, his eyes full of tears, +and seat himself on the bench, he guessed Jean's feelings; for +Jean's admiration of the picturesque had escaped him, but the tears +of regret at once made the brigadier grave. Those were from the +heart, and a sublime equality united the two men. However, as he did +not dare to question he stiffened his neck, until the muscles were +visible, and began to study the horizon silently. + +"What part of France do you come from?" asked Jean. + +"About five leagues from here, in the mountain." + +"Have you served your time in the army?" + +The brigadier took his pipe from his mouth and his hand quickly +touched the medal hanging on his breast. + +"Six years," said he--"two furloughs. When I left I was a sergeant, +with this medal, which I brought back from Tonquin. A fine time when +it is finished." He spoke like travellers who prefer the remembrance +of a journey but all the same have not disliked it. And he +continued: + +"With you, they say it is harder." + +"Yes." + +"I have always heard it said Germany is a great country, but the +officer and the soldier are not relatives as in France." + +The sun was going down; the great golden landscape became tawny in +places and purple in shadow. This purple spread with the rapidity of +racing clouds on shadowed slopes and veiled plains--how Jean Oberlé +would have loved to see you again in strong light! He asked: + +"Do you ever see any deserters?" + +Those who pass the frontier before their service begins are naturally +not known, only the soldiers serving in the Alsace-Lorraine regiments +and who desert in uniform. "Yes; I have seen several poor fellows who +had been too severely punished or whose tempers were too proud. You +will say that some desert from our side too, and it is true; but then +they are not so many----" + +Shaking his head and looking tenderly at the sleeping forests: + +"When one belongs to this side, you see, one can speak ill of it, +but one is not satisfied elsewhere. You do not know the country, +sir, and yet to look at you one would swear you belonged to it." + +Jean felt himself getting red; his throat was dry; he could not +answer. And the man, thinking that he had taken a liberty, said: + +"Excuse me, sir; one never knows whom one meets; and it is better +not to talk about these things. I must continue my rounds and go +down again." + +He was going to salute in military fashion; Jean took his hand and +pressed it. + +"You are not mistaken, my friend," he said. + +Then, feeling in his pocket, he held out his cigar-case to him. + +"Come, take a cigar!" + +And then, with a kind of childish joy, he emptied his case into the +hand which the Custom House official held out. + +"Take them all; you will give me pleasure. Do not refuse me!" + +It seemed as if he wanted to give something to France. + +The brigadier hesitated for a moment, and closed his hand over them, +saying: + +"I will smoke them on Sunday. Thank you, sir! Good-bye!" + +He saluted quickly, and was lost to sight almost immediately in the +firs that clothe the mountains. Jean heard his footsteps growing +fainter in the distance. Above all, he heard echoing in his soul, +and with indescribable emotion, the words of this unknown man. + +"You belong to us." "Yes, I belong here; I feel it, I see it; and +that explains to me so many things in my life." + +The shadow descended. + +Jean saw the land darkening. He thought of those of his family who +had fought there, round the villages submerged by the night, so that +Alsace should remain united to that great country stretched out +before him. "Sweet country--my country--every one has tender words +for her; and I, why did I come? Why am I as moved as if she were +living before me?" + +In a little while, on the fringe of the sky just where the blue +began, rose the evening star. Alone, faint but dominating as an +idea. + +Jean rose; the night was becoming quite dark, and he took the path +which follows the crest of the hills; but he could not take his eyes +from the star. Walking all alone in the deep silence, on the summit +of the divided Vosges, he said to the star and to the shadow +beneath: + +"I belong to you; I am happy to have seen you. It frightens me to +love you as I do!" + +Soon he reached the frontier, and by the magnificent road crossing +the Schlucht, went back again into the German-land. + +The following day, the Tuesday of Holy Week, he was again at +Alsheim, and handed to his father the report he had drawn up. Every +one welcomed his return with such evident pleasure that he was very +much touched by it. The evening after the "conference" between the +old grandfather and the manufacturer, and at which Jean was present, +since he had just returned from visiting the cuttings, Lucienne +called her brother to the fire before which she was warming herself +in the large yellow drawing-room. Madame Oberlé was reading near the +window; her husband had gone out, the coachman having informed him +that one of the horses had gone lame. + +"Well!" asked Lucienne. "What is the most beautiful thing you saw?" + +"You." + +"No, do not joke; tell me, the most beautiful thing during your +journey?" + +"France!" + +"Where?" + +"At the Schlucht. You cannot imagine the emotion it made me feel. It +was a shock--like a revelation. You do not seem to understand me." + +She answered in an indifferent manner: + +"Yes; I am delighted that you were pleased. It ought to be a very +fine excursion at this time of the year. The first spring flowers, +are there not? And the breeze in the woods? Ah, my dear boy, there +is so much convention in all that!" + +Jean did not go on. She it was who continued, and in a confidential +voice, which she modulated, and made marvellously musical: + +"Here we've had grand visits--oh, visits which nearly cost a scene. +Imagine, two German officers came last Wednesday in a motor car to +the lodge, and asked permission to see the saw-mills. Happily they +were in mufti. The Alsheim people only saw two gentlemen like any +others. Very fashionable; an old one--a commandant, and a young one +with a grand air, and accustomed to society. If you had seen him bow +to papa! I was in the park. They bowed to me too, and visited the +whole of the works, personally conducted by our father. While this +was going on that idiot Victor informed grandfather, who showed he +was annoyed when we came in. I ought to have run away, it appears. +As the gentlemen did not enter the house--'my house,' as grandfather +says--his irritation did not last long. However, there was a +sequel----" + +Lucienne laughed a little stifled laugh. + +"My dear, Madame Bastian did not approve of me." + +"You were then present during their visit to the works, when these +gentlemen----" + +"Yes." + +"All the time?" + +"My father kept me. In any case, I do not see how that should affect +the Mayor's wife. But I had such a cold bow from her, my dear, last +Sunday at the church door. Do you care about the Bastians' bows?" + +"Yes; in the same way that I care for the greetings of all good +people." + +"Good people--yes; but they do not know what life is! To be blamed +by them is just the same to me as if I were to be blamed by an +Egyptian mummy come to life for the purpose. I should answer: 'You +do not understand anything about it; go and wrap yourself up again.' +Is it not strange that you do not think as I do--you, my brother?" + +Jean stroked the hand which was raised in front of him to make a +screen. + +"Even mummies can judge of certain things of our time, my +darling--the things which are of all times." + +"Oh! how serious you are. Come now, where was I wrong? Was it in +going for a walk? In not looking away? In answering a greeting? In +obeying my father, who told me to come and stay?" + +"No; assuredly not!" + +"What harm have I done?" + +"None. I have danced with many German girls. You can acknowledge an +officer's greeting." + +"Then I did right?" + +"As a fact, yes. But there are so many sorrows around us--real +sorrows, and so noble. You must remember that they all come to life +again at a word, or a gesture." + +"I shall never consider that. Since what I do is not wrong, no one +shall ever stop me. Do you hear?" + +"That is where we differ, Lucienne. It is not so much in our ideas; +it is in a whole range of feelings which your education prevents you +from possessing." + +He kissed her, and the conversation wandered to different topics. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE EASTER VIGIL + + +The weather had settled fine. Jean found the plain of Alsace in full +spring glory. + +However, he only felt a faint and mixed pleasure in the sight he had +longed for. He came back from this excursion more upset than he +cared to own to himself. It had revealed to him the opposition of +the two nations--that is to say, of two minds, the persistent memory +of many of the poor, and the difficulty they found to make a +livelihood which their prudent and even hidden opinions created for +them. He understood better now how difficult a part his would be to +play in the family, at the works, in the village, in Alsace. + +The pleasure he felt the morning after his return at his father's +congratulations on the report of the forest cultivation by the House +of Oberlé made only a short diversion in the midst of this worry. He +tried in vain to appear quite happy, and he duly deceived those +whose interest it was to be deceived. + +"My Jean," said his mother, kissing him as he was going to sit down +to breakfast, "I think you look splendid. The strong Alsheim air +agrees with you, and also being near your poor mamma!" + +"Fancy that!" said Lucienne, "and I thought him very gloomy!" + +"Business," explained M. Joseph Oberlé, turning towards the window +where his son was sitting, "cares of business. He has handed me a +report, on which I must congratulate him publicly; it is very well +drawn up, very clear, and the result of which will be that I shall +economise, in four places at least, in the transport of my trees. +You understand, father?" + +The grandfather made a sign with his head. But he finished writing +something on the slate, and showed it to his daughter-in-law. + +"Has he already seen the country weep?" + +Madame Monica rubbed the sentences out quickly with her fingers. The +others looked at her, and all were uneasy, as if there had been some +painful explanation between them. + +Jean again experienced that intimate sorrow for which there is no +remedy. All the afternoon he worked in the office at the saw-mills, +but he was distracted and dreamy. He reflected that Lucienne would +go away one day, and that nothing would be altered; that the +grandfather might disappear also, and that the division would still +go on. All the plans that he had had when far away, the hope of +being himself a diversion, of bringing peace, of uniting them or of +giving them an appearance of union: all that appeared childish to +him now. He saw that Lucienne had spoken truly when she made fun of +his illusions. + +No, the evil was not in his family, it was in the whole of Alsace. +Even if no one of his name lived at Alsheim, Jean Oberlé would meet +at his door, in the village, among his workmen, his clients, and his +friends the same annoyance at certain moments, always the same +question. Neither his will nor any will like his could deliver his +race, either now or later. + +In this melancholy mood the idea of seeing Odile again, and making +her love him, came back to him and took possession of his mind. Who +else besides Odile could make life at Alsheim acceptable to him, and +bring back his scattered and suspicious friends, and re-establish +the name of Oberlé in the esteem of "Old Alsace"? He saw now that +she was more than a pretty woman towards whom his youthful heart +went out in song; he saw in her peace and dignity, and the only +strength possible in the difficult future which awaited him. + +She was the brave and faithful creature whom he needed here. + +How to tell her? How to find an opportunity to speak freely to her, +without the risk of being surprised, and troubling this orderly and +jealous family? Evidently not at Alsheim. Then where should he +arrange to meet her? And how could he forewarn her? + +Jean thought of this all the evening. + +The next day, Maundy Thursday, was the day on which in Catholic +churches the Tomb would be decorated with flowers, branches of +trees, materials, and torches placed in ledges, where the faithful +hasten to adore the Host. It was beautiful weather, clear, even too +clear for the time of year, when clearness calls up mist or rain. + +After he had talked with his mother and Lucienne in M. Philippe +Oberlé's room--it was the first time that he had felt that his home +held a family--Jean went towards the orchards, which are behind the +houses of Alsheim, and followed the road which he had taken a few +weeks ago to call on the Bastians. But a little beyond the +Ramspachers' farm he took the path which up to there ran at right +angles to the avenue, and was now parallel with it, and with it +joined the village road. He came out on to a piece of waste land, +used for carts by many farmers on the plain. The neighbouring fields +were deserted. The road was partially screened by a bank of earth +planted with hazel-trees. Jean walked along the quick-set hedge +which ran round the Bastians' property, approached the village, and +came back again. He waited. He hoped that Odile would soon come into +the path on the other side of the hedge to go to the Alsheim church +to pray at the Tomb. + +The remembrance of former meetings, at the same place and on the +same day, had come into his mind, and had decided him. As he began +the walk for the third time he saw what he had not seen at first. + +"How wonderful," he said to himself. "The road was made for her!" + +At the end of the avenue, for more than two hundred yards in front, +the fence, the clumps of trees, a small portion of the long roof +appeared in a marvellous frame. + +The old cherry-trees had flowered all together in the same week with +the almond-trees and the pear-trees. The pear-trees blossom in +clusters, the almond-trees in stars; as for the wild cherry-trees, +from the forest transplanted to the plain--they blossom into white +distaffs of bloom. + +Round the substantial branches, swollen and coloured red with sap, +thousands of white corollas like a drift of snowflakes, trembled on +their fragile stalks, and so thick were they that in many places one +could not see the branch itself. Every tree cast its flowery +spindles in all directions. So many of the cherry-trees were old +that from one side of the avenue to the other the points of the +flowering branches touched and intermingled. A swarm of bees covered +them with hovering wings. A subtle odour of honey floated in waves +down the avenue, and was wafted on the wind far away to the plain, +to the fields, to the scarcely covered ground surprised by this +feeling of spring. There were no trees in the large open valley +which could vie with these for splendour--only to the right--and +quite close, the four walnut-trees of the Ramspachers had begun to +show their leaves, and seemed with their heavy branches to be +enamels encrusting the farm walls. + +The minutes passed by--the petals of the cherry-blossoms fell in +showers. And lo, here is a woman stooping to unlatch the gate--it is +she! She stands erect, and walks onwards in the middle of the path, +between its two borders of grass--quite slowly, for she is gazing +upwards. She is looking at the white blossoms which are open. The +idea of a bride's wedding wreath, an idea so familiar to young +girls, passes through her mind. Odile does not smile, only her face +beams with an uplifted look, and an involuntary stretching out of +her hands gives the greeting and thanks of her youth to the joyous +earth. + +She goes down towards Alsheim. On her fur cap, on her rounded +cheeks, on her blue cloth dress, the wild cherry-trees shed their +blossoms. She is serious. In her left hand she carries a prayer +book, half hidden in the folds of her skirt. She thinks she is +alone. + +The splendour of the day speaks to her. But there is nothing languid +about her. She is a valiant creature; she is made to face life +bravely. Her eyes, which seek the tree-tops, are alive and masters +of her thoughts, and do not give themselves up to a tempting dream. +She was drawing near, never suspecting that Jean was waiting for +her. The meal-time ended, the usual noises were going on in the +village of Alsheim, rumbling cart-wheels, barking dogs, voices of +men, of children calling to each other, but all softened by the +distance, scattered in the vast aerial space, drowned in the tide of +the wind, as is the noise of a clod of earth which has become loose +and falls into the sea. + +As she came near, Jean took off his hat and stood up a little on +the other side of the hedge. And she who walked between two walls of +blossoms, although she was gazing upwards, turned her head, her +glance still full of the spring which had excited her. + +"Oh, is that you?" she said. + +And she came at once across the strip of grass where the +cherry-trees were planted, up to the place in the hedge where Jean +was. + +"I cannot come to you freely as I used to," he said, "so I came to +wait for you. I have a favour to ask of you...." + +"A favour? And you say that so seriously!" She tried to smile, but +her lips refused. They had both become pale. + +"I am going," said Jean, as if he was making a grave declaration; "I +am going up to Sainte Odile the day after to-morrow--I shall go to +hear the bells ring in Easter. If you also asked for permission to +come----" + +"You have made a vow?" + +He answered: + +"Something like it. I must speak to you--to you alone." + +Odile withdrew slightly. With something of fear in her look she was +trying to find out if Jean was speaking the truth--if she had +guessed aright. He was watching her in an agony of anxiety. They +were motionless, trembling, and so near and yet so far from each +other that one would have said that they were threatening each +other. And in fact both felt that the peace of their lives was at +stake. They were not children, but a man and a woman of a strong and +passionate race. All the powers of their being asserted themselves +and broke through the hackneyed commonplaces of custom, because in +these simple words, "I must speak to you," Odile had heard the +breath of a soul which was giving itself, and which demanded a +return. + +In the deserted avenue the old cherry-trees lifted their white +distaffs of blossom, and in the cup of each flower the spring sun +was resting. + +"The day after to-morrow?" she said, "at Sainte Odile--to hear the +bells ring?" + +She repeated what he had said. But that was to gain time, and to +gaze deeper into those eyes fixed upon her, eyes which looked like +the green depths of the forest. + +There was a great calm in the plain and in the next village. The +wind ceased for a moment--Odile turned away. + +"I will go," she said. + +Neither of them explained themselves further. A covered cart rolled +along the road, not far off. A man shut the gate through which carts +pass to the Bastians' farm. But the great thing was Jean had said +what he had to say. + +In the profound depths of their souls the words echoed and +re-echoed. They were no longer alone. Both had the sacred moment of +their meeting enclosed, as it were, in themselves, and they fell +back on their own thoughts as the earth in the furrows does when the +sowing is done, and the germinating seed is beginning to expand. + +Odile went away. Jean admired the healthy and beautiful woman +disappearing along the road. She walked well, without swinging her +body. Above the white neck, Jean placed in imagination the big black +bows of the Alsatian women who live beyond Strasburg. She no longer +raised her eyes towards the cherry-trees. She let her skirt trail, +and it swept the grass, making a little dust fly, and the petals of +cherry blossoms, which flew about a little in the wind before dying. + + * * * * * + +The day after to-morrow was slow in coming. Jean had said to his +father: + +"Some pilgrims are going up to Sainte Odile on Saturday to hear the +Easter bells. I have never been there at this time. If you do not +mind, it is an excursion I should much like to make." + +He did not mind. + +Jean opened his window when he woke that morning. There was a thick +fog. The fields near the house were invisible. + +"You will not go in this weather?" asked Lucienne, when she saw her +brother come into the dining-room, where she was drinking her +chocolate. + +"Yes, I shall go." + +"You will see nothing." + +"I shall hear." + +"Is it then so extraordinary?" + +"Yes." + +"Then will you take me?" + +She did not wish to go to Sainte Odile. Dressed in a light +morning-gown trimmed with lace, and drinking her chocolate in little +sips, she had no intention whatever of doing anything but stop her +brother on his way and kiss him. + +"Seriously, are you making a kind of pilgrimage up there?" + +"Yes--a kind of----" + +Bending at this moment over her cup, she did not see the quick smile +which accompanied the words. She answered a little bitterly: + +"You know I'm not devout. I fulfil my obligations as a Catholic but +poorly, and the practices of devotion do not tempt me. But you, you +have more faith than I have. I am going to tell you what you ought +to ask for--it will be worth a pilgrimage, I can tell you." She +changed her tone, and her voice became suddenly passionate; she +raised her eyebrows, her eyes were at once self-willed and +affectionate, and she said: + +"You must ask for that miracle of perfection among women who will +live with you here. When I am married and go away life will be +terrible for you here. You will have to bear all alone the misery of +the family quarrels, and the suspicions of the peasants. You will +have no one to pity you. That is the part to play. Ask for some one +strong enough, gay enough, and with a conscience fine enough to do +it, since you would live at Alsheim. You see, my thought is that of +a friend." + +"Of a great friend." + +They kissed each other. + +"Good-bye, Pilgrim, good-bye--good luck!" + +"Good-bye." + +Jean got away. He was soon in the park, turned after passing through +the gate, went through the hop-fields and the vineyards, and so into +the forest. + +The forest was also full of mist. The serried masses of pines, which +took the hill as it were by storm, appeared grey from one bank of +the stream to the other, and were almost immediately lost in a thick +mist without sun and without shadow. + +Jean did not go up the beaten track. He went gaily climbing up the +woods when not too steep, and stopping sometimes to take breath and +to listen if he could not catch above as below, somewhere in the +mysterious and impenetrable mists of the mountain, either the voice +of Odile or the chant of the pilgrims. But no; he only heard the +rushing of water, or perhaps the voice of some one calling to his +dog, or the timid call of some poor peasant of Obernai picking up +dead sticks with his child, in spite of the regulation which allows +wood-picking only on Thursdays. The saucepan must boil on Easter +Sunday! And was not this fog which hid everything a divine +protection against the forest guard? + +Jean experienced great pleasure from this solitary, stiff climb. As +he went up he thought of Odile more and more, and he was more and +more glad that he had chosen this holy place of Alsace in which to +meet her--and this day--doubly affecting. Everywhere around him the +beautiful scalefern which carpets the rocky slopes unfolded its +velvet fronds. On all last year's shoots of honeysuckle there were +little leaves; the first strawberries were in flower, and the first +lilies of the valley. The geraniums, which are so fine in Sainte +Odile, lifted their hairy stalks, and the multitude of whortle +berries and bilberries and raspberries, that is the entire +undergrowth, whole fields of it, began to pour out on the breeze the +perfume of their moving sap. The fog retained these few scents and +kept them in like a net work on the sides of the Vosges. + +Jean came close to Heidenbruch, looked at the green shutters and +went on his way. "Uncle Ulrich," he murmured, "you would be glad if +you saw me, and if you knew where I am going, and with whom, +perhaps, I shall be presently!" Fidèle barked, half asleep, but did +not come. The mountain was again deserted. A buzzard called above +the mist. Jean, who had not been this way since his childhood, +enjoyed the wildness and peacefulness of the place. He reached the +higher part, which is the property of the bishopric of Strasburg, +and followed the "pagan wall" which surrounds the summit for ten +miles, that he might recall his school-boy impressions of long ago. + +At midday he had passed the Männelstein rock and entered the convent +courtyard, built on the mountain top, a crown of old stone placed +above the summit of the pine forests; and there, although there was +no crowd, he found groups of pilgrims, carriages with horses +unharnessed, fastened to the trunks of ancient lime-trees, grown no +one knew how at this altitude, and covering with their branches +nearly the whole enclosure. Jean remembered the way; he went towards +the chapels on the right. He merely passed through the first, which +is painted, but stopped in the second, with elliptical arches +leading to the shrine, where lies the wax figure of the patroness of +Alsace, the Abbess Sainte Odile--so gentle, with her pink face, her +veil, and her golden crozier, her purple mantle lined with ermine. +Jean knelt down: with all the strength of his faith he prayed for +his home, so sadly divided against itself, from which he felt glad +to be away, and that Odile Bastian should not fail to keep this love +tryst, the hour for which was so near at hand. As his was a sincere +soul, he added: "Let our way be made clear to us! May we follow it +together! Let us see all obstacles removed from our path!" + +The whole of Alsace had knelt at the same spot for centuries. + +Then he went out to the refectory, where the nuns had begun to help +the first visitors. Odile was not there. After the lunch, which was +very long, being continually lengthened by the arrival of fresh +pilgrims, Jean went hastily to the foot of the great rock on which +the convent is built, and finding once more the road which comes +from Saint Nabor and passes by Sainte Odile's well, he posted +himself in a thick part of the wood which overlooked a bend in the +road. At his feet was the narrow strip of downtrodden earth, bare of +grass and covered with pine needles, and which seemed hanging in the +air. Far beyond that point the slope of the mountain became so steep +that he could see no farther. In clear weather you could see to +right and left two sunken wooden buttresses, but now the curtain of +white mist hid everything--the abyss, the slopes, and the trees. But +the wind blew and moved the mist, whose thickness, one could feel, +varied from minute to minute. + +It was two o'clock. In an hour the Easter bells would ring. The +people who wanted to hear them could not now be far from the summit, +and in the great silence Jean heard, rising upwards from below, +voices blending round the bend of the wood. Then a phrase whistled: +"_Formez vos bataillons!_" warned him that Alsatian students were +near. Two young men--he who had whistled overtaken by another--came +little by little out of the fog and went towards the abbey. + +Then a young couple passed, the wife dressed in black, her +square-cut bodice showing a white chemise, and wearing a lace cap +like a helmet on her head; the man wore a flowered velvet waistcoat, +a jacket with a row of copper buttons, and a fur cap. + +Weissenburg peasants thought Jean. + +Then he saw florid women from Alsheim and Heiligenstein pass, +chattering, but not showing any trace of Alsatian dress. + +Among them was a woman from the Münster valley, recognisable by her +cap of dark stuff, bound round her head like the handkerchief of the +southerners, and decorated in front with a red rosette. Two minutes +slipped by. A step was heard through the fog, and a priest +appeared--an old, heavy man, who wiped his face as he walked. Two +children, very alert, doubtless the belated children of one of the +women who had already gone by, overtook him, greeting him in +Alsatian with the words, "Praised be Jesus Christ, M. le curé!" + +"For ever and ever!" answered the priest. + +He did not know them; he only spoke to them to answer the old and +beautiful form of greeting. Jean, seated near a pine-tree and half +hidden, heard an old man overtake the priest at the bend of the road +and say, "Praised be Jesus Christ!" + +How many times must that greeting have echoed through the vaults of +the forest! + +Jean looked before him as one in a dream, who sees only vague +figures without attaching any meaning to them. + +He stayed like that a short time. Then a murmur, almost +imperceptible, so faint as to pass almost unheard, weaker than the +twitter of a bird, was borne up on the fog: "Hail, Mary, full of +grace; blessed art thou among women!" Another murmur followed, and +finished with "Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us!" and an +involuntary agitation, a mysterious certainty, preceded the +appearance of two women. + +They were both tall. The elder was an old spinster of Alsheim, whose +face was the colour of the fog, and who lived in the shadow of the +church, which she decorated on feast-days. She looked weary, but she +smiled as she recited the rosary. The younger walked on the right, +at the edge of the path, even with the slope, her proud head raised. +Her fair hair was like a beautiful piece of pine bark, her body, +robust and perfectly proportioned, stood out completely from the +pale screen of cloudy mist which filled the bend of the road. + +Jean did not move, nevertheless the younger woman saw him, and +turned her head towards him. Odile smiled, and without interrupting +her prayer, her eyes, turned towards the summit of the mountain, +said: + +"I will wait for you up there." + +The two women did not slacken their steps. With even steps, upright, +moving slightly the rosaries which they held in their hands by the +swaying of their bodies, they mounted upwards, and were hidden in +the shadow of the old wood. Jean let some moments pass by and +followed the same road. At the turning, where the road becomes +straight and crosses the crest of the mountain to reach the convent, +he saw the two women again. They were walking more quickly, glad to +have arrived, their sunshades open, for the mist, which had not +dispersed, was now warm, and there were splashes of shadow at the +foot of the trees. The sun was going down towards the peaks of the +Vosges and towards the plains of France beyond. + +The pilgrims who had arrived had already made their pilgrimage to +the shrine of Sainte Odile, and were hastening to visit the places +consecrated by pious or profane tradition: Sainte Odile's well, St. +John's well, or by the pagan wall along the goat-path to the Rock of +Männelstein, from where there is generally such a lovely view, to +the tops of the Bloss and the Elsberg, to the ruined castles which +lift their ancient towers among the pines--Andlau, Spesburg, +Landsberg, and others. Jean saw the two women cross the courtyard +and go towards the chapel. He retraced his steps to the beginning of +the wind-swept avenue, along the old building, which reminds one of +the advance works of old forts, and passes through a vaulted porch +used as an entrance. + +Ten minutes later Odile came out of the chapel alone, and guessing +that Jean Oberlé was waiting for her elsewhere rather than in this +courtyard too full of onlookers, took the road leading to the +forest. + +She was dressed in the clothes she had worn on Maundy Thursday, the +same dark dress, but her hat was very simple, very youthful, and +suited her to perfection: a straw, with a wide brim turned up on one +side, and trimmed with a twist of tulle. She carried a summer jacket +on her arm, and a sunshade. Odile walked quickly, with her head +slightly bent, as those walk who are not interested in the road, or +who are either praying or dreaming. When she came near Jean, who was +on the right of the portico, she looked up, and said without +stopping: + +"The woman who came with me is resting. Here I am!" + +"It is good of you to have trusted me!" said Jean. "Come, Odile!" + +He followed, close to her, the avenue planted with sorry trees +distorted by the winter winds. He was so much affected by the +realisation of his dream that he could only think and speak of one +thing: his gratitude to Odile, who was absolutely silent, only +listening to what he did not say--and as full of emotion as he was. + +They left the road at the place where it begins to slope downwards, +and took a path through the forest of lofty pines in serried ranks +which leads round the convent. There was no one there, and Jean saw +that Odile's eyes of the colour of ripe corn, eyes deep and serious, +were turned towards him. There was no sound in the wood save that +from the drops of moisture falling from the leaves. They were quite +close to each other. + +"I asked you to come," said Jean, "so that you should decide what my +life is to be. You were the love of my early youth. I want you to be +my love always!" + +Odile's look was far away, lost in the distance. She trembled +slightly, and said: + +"Have you thought?" + +"Of everything!" + +"Even of that which may separate us?" + +"What do you mean by that? What are you afraid of? Of entering a +disunited family?" + +"No!" + +"You would bring them together, I am sure of it. You would be its +joy and peace. What do you fear--my father's or your father's +opposition because they are now enemies?" + +"That could be got over," said the young girl. + +"Then it is because your mother detests me," said Jean hastily. "She +does hate me, does she not? The other day she was so stiff to me, so +offensive." + +The fair head made a sign of denial. + +"She will be slower in believing in you than my father was, slower +than I was myself. But when she sees that your education has not +changed your mind towards Alsace she will overcome her prejudices." + +After a moment's silence Odile said: + +"I do not think I am making any mistake. To-day's difficulties can +be brushed on one side by you or by me, or by both of us. I am only +afraid of what I do not know, the least thing which to-morrow might +aggravate such a disturbed state----" + +"I understand," said Jean, "you are afraid of my father's ambition?" + +"Perhaps!" + +"We have already suffered much from that. But he is my father. He is +set on keeping me here; he says it every day. When he knows that I +have chosen you, Odile, if he has personal projects which would +prevent our marriage, he will at least put them off. Do not have any +fear; we shall win!" + +"We shall win!" she repeated. + +"I am sure of it, Odile. You will make my life, Odile, which will be +difficult, perhaps impossible, if you were not there. It was for you +that I came back to the country. If I tell you that I have travelled +much, and found no woman who had the charm for me that you have, or +who made the same impression on me--how shall I tell you? The +impression of a mountain stream so fresh and deep! Every time I +think of my future marriage your image comes before my eyes. I love +you, Odile!" + +He took Odile's hand, and she answered, lifting her eyes to the +light coming from above the trees. + +"God is my witness that I love you, too!" + +She thrilled with joy, and Jean felt her hand tremble. + +"Yes," said Jean; and he tried to look into her eyes, which were +still fixed on the distance. + +"We shall overcome everything. We shall overcome the numerous +obstacles arising from this terrible subject: that is all that is +between us." + +"Yes; it is the one and only question in this part of the world." + +"It poisons everything!" + +She stopped, and turned her radiant face full of love to him--of +that beautiful and proud love which he had longed to know and to +inspire. + +"Say rather that it makes everything greater. Our quarrels here are +not village quarrels--we are either for or against a country. We are +obliged to have courage every day, to make enemies every day, every +day to break with old friends who would willingly have remained +faithful to us, but who are not faithful to Alsace. No action of our +lives is indifferent; there is no action that is not an affirmation. +I assure you, Jean, there is nobleness in that." + +"That is true, Odile, my beloved." + +They stopped to enjoy that delicious word to the full. Their souls +were in their eyes, and they looked at each other tremblingly. In +low tones, although there were no onlookers other than the pines +swayed by the wind, they spoke of the future as of a battle already +begun. + +"Lucienne will be on my side," said Jean. "I shall entrust my secret +to her when occasion occurs. She will help me, and I count on her." + +"I count on my father," said Odile; "for he is already well disposed +towards you. But take care not to do anything that would annoy him. +Do not try to see me at Alsheim. Do not try to hurry on the time." + +"That glorious time when you will be mine!" + +They smiled at each other for the first time. + +"I love you so dearly," continued Jean, "that I shall not ask you +for the kiss that you would no doubt give me--I have no right to it. +We do not entirely depend on ourselves, Odile. And then it pleases +me to show you how sacred you are to me. Tell me at least that I +shall take away with me a little of your soul?" + +The lips so near his murmured "Yes!" And almost immediately: + +"Do you hear down there? Is that the first Easter bell?" + +They turned together towards the side where the wood sloped +downwards. + +"No; it must be the wind in the trees." + +"Come," said she: "the bells are going to ring. And if I were not +seen up there when they rang, old Rose would speak of it...." + +Hardly saying a word, she led him to the base of the rock. There +they separated to go back to the Abbey by two different paths. + +"I shall find you again on the terrace," said Odile. + +The daylight was growing blue in the hollows. That was the hour when +waiting for the night does not seem long, and the morrow already +dawns in the dreaming mind. + +In a few minutes Jean had crossed the yard, followed the corridors +of the convent, and opened a door leading to the garden in a sharp +angle at the east of the buildings. There it was that all the +pilgrims to Sainte Odile met to see Alsace when the weather was +clear. A wall, high enough to lean on, runs along the top of an +enormous block of rock, advancing like a spur above the forest. It +overlooks the pines which cover the slopes everywhere. From the +extreme point shut in, like the lantern of a lighthouse, one can see +to the right quite a group of mountains, and in front and to the +left the plain of Alsace. At this moment the fog was divided into +two parts, for the sun was shining on the peaks of the Vosges. All +the cloudy mist which did not reach that waving line of peaks, was +grey and wan; but just above, almost horizontal rays pierced the +mist and coloured it, giving to the second half of the landscape a +look of brightness like luminous foam. And this separation showed +with what quickness the mist came up from the valley towards the +departing sun. The fleecy clouds intermingling, were wafted into the +illumined space, were irradiated, showing thus their incessantly +changing shapes, and the strength of the motion impelling them, as +if the light had summoned their columns to greater heights. + +There was at the entrance of this narrow place, arranged for +pilgrims and visitors, an old man wearing the costume of the old +Alsatians to the north of Strasburg; near him the priest with grey +curly hair whom the children had greeted in the morning on the slope +of Sainte Odile; a step or two farther on were the young Weissenburg +peasants, and at the narrowest spot, squeezed close together on the +wall, were the two students who might have been taken for brothers +on account of their protruding lips and their beards divided in the +middle, one fair, the other chestnut coloured. Both were Alsatians. +They exchanged everyday remarks, as is usual among people who do not +know each other. When they saw Jean Oberlé they turned round, and +they felt themselves suddenly united by a common bond of race which +becomes stronger in the face of a common danger. + +"Is he a German--that one there?" asked a voice. + +The old man who was near the priest cast a glance in the direction +of the garden and answered: + +"No; he wears his moustache in the French fashion and he looks like +one of us." + +"I saw him walking with Mademoiselle Odile Bastian, of Alsheim," +said the young woman. + +The group was reassured, and more so when Jean greeted the priest in +Alsatian and asked: + +"Are the bells of Alsace late?" + +They all smiled, not because of what he had said, but because they +felt at home among themselves without an inconvenient witness. + +Odile came in her turn and leaned against a wall on the right of the +first group. Jean took up a similar position on the other side of +the group. They were suffering from loving so much, from having said +it, and from only being sure of themselves. + +The bells were not late. Their voices were encircled and enclosed by +the rising mists. Suddenly they escaped from the cloudy masses, and +it seemed as if each separate morsel of fog burst like a bubble on +touching the wall and poured out on the summit of the sacred +mountain all the harmony of the pealing bells. "Easter! Easter! The +Lord is risen! He has changed the world and delivered men! The +heavens are opened!" So sang the bells of Alsace. They were ringing +from the foot of the mountain, and from the distance, and from far, +far away, voices of the little bells, and voices of the great bells +of cathedrals; voices which never ceased and from peal to peal were +prolonged in re-echoing reverberations; voices that passed away +lightly, intermittently, delicately, like a shuttle in a loom; a +prodigious choir, whose singers were never visible to each other; +cries of joy from a whole population of churches, songs of the +spring eternal, which rose up from the depths of the misty plain and +mounted to the summit of Sainte Odile to blend into one harmonious +whole. + +The grandeur of this concert of pealing bells silenced the few folk +gathered together up there. The very air prayed. Souls thought of +the risen Christ. Several thought of Alsace. + +"There is some blue sky," said a voice. + +"Some blue up there," repeated a woman's voice, as if in a dream. + +They scarcely heard it, in the roar of sounds which rose from the +valley. Yet all eyes were raised at once. They saw in the sky, +amidst the masses of fog fleeing before the assailing sun, blue +depths opening and opening with bewildering rapidity. And when they +again looked downwards they perceived that the cloud of mist also +was tearing itself to pieces on the slopes. It was the clearing up. +Parts of the forest slipped, as it were, into the divisions made in +the moving fog; then others; then black crevasses, the thickets, and +rocks; then of a sudden the last rags of mist, drawn, thin, +contorted, lamentable, went up in whirling masses, brushed against +the terrace, and disappeared above. And the plain of Alsace appeared +all blue and gold. + +One of those who saw it cried out: + +"How beautiful!" + +All leaned forward to see in the opening of the mountain the plain +growing lighter and lighter as far as eye could see. + +All these Alsatian souls were touched. Three hundred villages of +their own country lay below them scattered about amidst the young +green of the cornfields. They were sleeping to the sound of the +bells. Each was only a rose-red spot. The river, near the horizon, +showed like a bar of dusky silver. And beyond rose stretches of +country, whose shape was vanishing rapidly in the fogs which still +hung above the Rhine. Quite near by, following the slope of the fir +plantations, one saw, on the contrary, the smallest details of the +forest of Sainte Odile. Several points of dark green jutted out into +the valley and mixed with the pale green of the meadows. All was lit +up by reflection from a sky full of rays of light. No bright spot +attracted the eye. As the bells had united their voices, so the +varying shades of the earth had melted into a harmonious unity. The +old Alsatian, who kept his place at the side of the priest, +stretched his arms, and said: + +"I hear the cathedral bells." + +He pointed, away in the distance over the flat country, to the +celebrated spire of Strasburg, which looked like an amethyst the +size of a thumbnail. Now that they could see the rose-red of +villages, they imagined they could recognise the sound of the bells. + +A voice said: "I recognise the sound of the bells of the Abbey of +Marmoutier. How well they chime!" + +"I," said another, "I hear the bells of Obernai!" + +"And I the bells of Heiligenstein." + +The peasant, who came from the neighbourhood of Weissenburg, also +said: + +"We are too far off to hear what the bells of Saint George of +Haguenau are ringing. However, listen, listen; there--now." + +The old Alsatian repeated seriously: + +"I hear the cathedral!" and he added: "Look up there again!" + +They could all see that the clouds had ascended to the regions of +the sunbeams. The cloud, shapeless at the base of the mountain, had +spread across the sky, and was like sheaves of gladioli thrown above +the Vosges and the plain: some red, like blood, some quite pale, and +some like molten gold. And all those witnesses looking up from +between the two abysses, their gaze having followed the long light +line, remarked that it lit up the earth with its reflection, and +that the distant houses of the capital and the spire of the +cathedral stood out in a tawny light from the thickening shadow. + +"That is like what I saw on the night of August the 23rd, 1870," +said the old Alsatian. "I was just here----" + +They, even the very young ones, had heard this date frequently +spoken of. Their looks were fixed more steadily on the little spire, +whence came still a little shining light and the sound of the +resurrection bells. + +"I was here with the women and girls from yonder villages, who had +come up here because the noise of the cannons had redoubled. We +heard the cannons as we now hear the bells. The bombs burst like +rockets. Our women were weeping here where you stand. That was the +night when the library caught fire, that the new church caught fire, +and the picture gallery, and ten houses in Broglie. Then a +yellow-and-red smoke rose, and the clouds looked like these we now +see. Strasburg was burning. They had fired one hundred and +ninety-three shells against the city. + +One of the students, the younger one, shook his fist. + +"Down with them!" muttered the other. + +The peasant took his cap off and kept it under his arm, without +saying a word. + +The bells were still ringing, but not so many of them. They could no +longer hear the bells of Obernai, nor of Saint Nabor, nor some of +the others they thought they had heard. They were like lights going +out. Night was coming. + +Jean saw that the two women were almost weeping, and that every one +was silent. + +"Please say one prayer for Alsace," he said to the priest, "while +the bells are still ringing for the resurrection." + +"Right! that's right, my boy!" said the old peasant standing by the +priest; "you belong to the country!" + +The heavy, weary face of the priest brightened at the same time. His +voice, which was slightly broken, was not steady. An old and +enduring sorrow, yet always new, spoke through his lips, and while +they were all looking, as he was himself, towards Strasburg, the +city which night was hiding, he prayed: + +"My God, here, now we can see from your Sainte Odile nearly all the +beloved land, our towns, our villages, and our fields. But some of +our land lies also on the other side of the mountains, and yet that +is also our country. You permitted us to be separated. My heart +breaks to think of it. For on the other side of the mountains is the +nation we love, and which you still love. It is the oldest of the +Christian nations; it is the nearest to Godlike things. It has more +angels in its skies because it has more churches and chapels on +earth, more holy tombs to defend, more sacred dust mixed with its +fields, with its grass, with the waters which permeate the land and +nourish it. Oh God, we have suffered in our bodies, in our goods; we +still suffer in our memories. Nevertheless, make our memories last. +Grant that France also will not forget. Make her more worthy to lead +nations. Give her back her lost sister, who may also return. Amen!" + +"As the Easter bells return." + +"Amen!" said the voices of two men. + +"Amen! Amen!" + +The others wept in silence. There was only the hollow sound of one +single bell in the cold air that came up from the depths. The +ringers had left the towers, already lost in the shadow that covered +the plain. + +Above the high platform in the garden the darkened clouds, flying to +the west, left a border of purple on the crest of the mountains. +Stars came out, in the black depths of the night, as the first +primroses were coming out, at the same time under the pines. Only +three persons were left on the terrace. The others had gone when the +secret of their Alsatian souls had been revealed. + +The old priest, seeing before him two young people close to each +other, and Odile's head near Jean's shoulder, asked: + +"Betrothed?" + +"Alas!" answered Jean. "Wish that it may become true." + +"I do wish it. What you just said is right. I wish that you, who are +young, may see Alsace once more French." + +He went away. + +"Good-bye," said Odile quickly, "Good-bye, Jean!" + +She held out her hand, and went away without turning to look back. +Jean remained near the terrace wall. + +The night birds--owls, sea-eagles, eagle-owls, and horned +owls--mingling their cries, flew from wood to wood. For a quarter of +an hour, the time of their passage, which they made in sweeping +flights, their calls resounded over the mountain sides. Then +complete silence settled down. Peace arose with the perfumes of the +sleeping forests. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +AT CAROLIS + + +At the beginning of the rue de Zurich, facing the Quay des +Bateliers, one of the relics of old Strasburg, there is a narrow +house, much lower than its neighbours, with a roof of two stories +like a Chinese pagoda. The front, formerly adorned with the pattern +of its painted beams, is now covered with whitewash, on which is +this inscription: + + "JEAN, CALLED CAROLIS, _WEINSTUBE_." + +This wine-shop, whose exterior has nothing about it to arouse the +curiosity of the passer-by, is not a nondescript place, nor is it an +ordinary public-house. The place is historical. The inhabitants of +Zurich came here in 1576, or, at least, the best shots among them, +to take part in the grand shooting competition to which Strasburg +had summoned the Empire and the confederated States. They had +brought with them a pot of boiled millet, and scarcely were they out +of the boat than they made the Strasburg people understand that the +pudding was still warm. + +"We could easily come to your aid, neighbours," they said; "by the +Rhine and the Ill, the distance between our cities is very short." +The word given in 1576 was kept in 1870, as is testified to by an +engraved inscription just near by on the Zurich Fountain. At the +moment when besieged Strasburg was in the most distressed condition +the people of Zurich intervened, and obtained from General Werder +permission to allow the old men and children to leave the city. This +house was noted for something else--thanks to the Southerner who in +1860 established a shop there for wines of the South. + +Jean, called Carolis, bore a remarkable resemblance to Gambetta. He +knew him, and copied his gestures and his clothes, the cut of his +beard, and the sound of his voice. His trade was fairly flourishing +before the war, but he became prosperous in the years that followed. +And a certain number of German officers got into the habit of coming +there to drink the black wines of Narbonne, Cette, and Montpellier. + +One morning towards the end of April, Jean Oberlé, who was going to +see the Chief of the Administration of Forests, whom he had long +promised to visit, was passing along the quay, when a woman of about +forty, clothed in black, evidently an Alsatian, came out of the +café, crossed the road, and, apologising, said: + +"Pardon me, monsieur, but will you kindly come in? One of your +friends is asking for you." + +"Who is it?" asked Jean, astonished. + +"The youngest officer there." + +She pointed with her finger to the confused mass of shadow moving +under the lowered linen blind, and which he saw to be the inside of +the room with its groups of customers. + +Jean, after hesitating for a moment, followed her, and was +surprised--for not belonging to Strasburg, he was ignorant of the +reputation and also of the customers of this wine-shop--at finding +there six officers, three of whom were Hussars, seated at tables +covered with red and blue check cloths, talking loudly, smoking, and +drinking Carolis wine. + +The first glance he gave, on coming from the light into the +semi-darkness, showed him that the room was small--there were only +four tables--and decorated with allegorical pictures in the German +style; he saw a monkey, a cat, a pack of cards, a packet of +cigarettes, but above all there was a semi-circular mirror filling a +recess in the left wall and round which hung framed photographs of +the present or past habitués of the house. Jean looked again to see +who could have sent for him, when a very young cavalryman got up. +This simple movement displayed the beauty of his slender form in its +sky-blue tunic with gold lace. He rose from the back of the room to +the left. Near him, and round the same table, a captain and a +commandant remained seated. + +The three officers must have returned from a long march; they were +covered with dust, their foreheads were wet with perspiration, their +features were drawn, and the veins stood out on their temples. The +youngest had even brought back from this country ride a branch of +hawthorn, which he had slipped under his flat epaulet, on the side +near the heart. + +The Alsatian recognised Lieutenant Wilhelm von Farnow, a Prussian, +three years older than himself, whom he had met before during his +first year's law course in Munich, where Farnow was then +sub-lieutenant in a regiment of Bavarian Uhlans. Since then he had +not seen him. He only knew that in consequence of an altercation +between Bavarian and Prussian officers in the regimental casino, +some of the officers implicated had been removed, and that his old +comrade was among their number. + +No; doubt was not possible. It was Farnow, with the same elegant, +haughty way of offering his hand, the same fair, beardless face, too +thick-set and too flat, with thick lips, an impertinent little nose, +slightly turned up, and fine eyes of steel-blue--a hard blue where +dwelt the pride of youth, of command, of a bold and disputatious +temper. His body gave promise of developing into that of a solid +and massive cuirassier later on. But at present he was still thin, +and so well-proportioned, so agile, so evidently inured to warlike +exercises, so vigorous, there was such disciplined precision in all +his movements, that de Farnow, although he had not a handsome face, +had gained a reputation for good looks, so much so that in Munich +one would call him sometimes "Beauty" Farnow, and sometimes "Death's +Head" Farnow. With reddish moustaches, bushy brows, and a helmet +accentuating the shadow over his eyes, he would have been +terrifying. But, though scarcely twenty-seven, he gave the +impression of a warlike being, violent, conqueror of himself, +disciplined even to his acquired and perfectly polished manners. + +Jean Oberlé remarked that when he rose Farnow spoke to the +commandant, his immediate neighbour, a robust soldier with slow, +sure eyes. He was explaining something, and the other approved, with +an inclination of his head, at the moment when the lieutenant made +the introduction. + +"Will the commandant permit me to present to him my comrade, Jean +Oberlé, son of the factory owner of Alsheim?" + +"Certainly, sir. An intelligent Alsatian--very well known." + +Jean's introduction to the captain, a man still young, with straight +features, evidently cultured, and no less evidently of a haughty +temper, led to the same flattering expressions regarding the factory +owner at Alsheim: "Yes, truly Monsieur Oberlé is well known--an +enlightened mind. I have had the pleasure of seeing him--kindly +remember me to him." + +Jean felt humiliated by the marked attentions of these two officers. +He had the impression that he was the object of exceptional +attention, he, a civilian, a citizen; he, an Alsatian; he, who from +every point of view should have been looked upon by these lofty +personages as their inferior. "What my father has done then is of +great importance," he thought, "that they should requite him in this +fashion. Neither his fortune, nor his style of living, nor his +conversation, can justify this. He does not live at Strasburg, nor +has he filled any office." + +A sign from the commandant almost at once put an end to the awkward +situation, and gave the young men liberty to go and sit at the table +farthest away from the window at the back of the room. + +"It is quite by chance that you meet me here," said Farnow, in a +slightly sarcastic tone, which revealed the pride of the Prussian +lieutenant. + +"My regiment is hardly ever here--it is mostly infantry officers who +come here.... I generally go to the 'Germania'--but we have just +been reconnoitring, as you see, and my commandant was very hot.... +You will pardon me, my dear Oberlé, for having sent for you." + +"On the contrary, it was very friendly. You could hardly leave your +chiefs." + +"And I wanted to renew my acquaintance with you. I have not seen you +for so long, not since Munich days. You had just gone past the +corner of the house over there, when I said to the servant, 'That is +one of my friends! Run and fetch M. Oberlé here!'" + +"And truly, you see me very happy, Farnow." + +The two young men looked at each other with the curiosity of two +beings who try to fill in the unknown years. "What sort of a life +has he led? What does he think of me? How far can I trust him?" + +"I fancy," said Farnow, "that you have arrived quite recently?" + +"Just so; I came at the end of February." + +"They told me that you were going to commence your military service +in October in the Hussars." + +"That is true." + +"Do you know, Oberlé, that I had the honour of meeting your father +in society last winter? I asked to be introduced." + +"Excuse me, I am still such a new-comer...." + +Conversation languished at this moment at Carolis, and Jean noticed +that the two blue tunics had turned towards him, and that the +commandant and the captain were both examining the face of the +future volunteer. + +They finished drinking the wine like Bordeaux they had ordered in a +sealed bottle. + +"I should much like to see more of you," said Farnow, lowering his +voice. "I hope we shall be able to meet." + +"Do you know Alsheim?" + +"Yes; I've been through it several times during manoeuvres." + +The lieutenant was visibly trying to find out how far he could go. + +He was in an annexed country; many incidents of daily life had +taught him that. He did not care about renewing the experience. He +was feeling his way. Should he promise a call? He did not know yet. +And this uncertainty, so contrary to his energetic nature; this +caution, so wounding to his pride--made him hold up his head as if +he were going to pick up a challenge. + +Jean, on his side, was disturbed. This simple thing, the receiving a +former comrade, seemed to him now a delicate problem to solve. +Personally he should have inclined towards the affirmative. But +neither Madame Oberlé nor the grandfather would admit any exception +to the rule so strictly kept up to now--that no Germans, except +quick and commonplace business men, should be admitted to the house +of the old protesting deputy. They would never consent. But it was +hard for Jean to show himself less tolerant in Strasburg than he had +been in Munich, and at the first meeting on Alsatian ground to +offend the young officer who had come to him with hand outstretched. +He tried at least to put a note of cordiality into his answer: + +"I will come and see you, dear Farnow, with pleasure." + +The German understood, frowned, and was silent. Evidently others had +refused even to visit him. He did not meet in Oberlé that systematic +and complete hostility. His anger did not last, or he did not show +it. He reached out his slender hand, the wrist of which looked like +a bundle of steel threads covered with skin, and with the tips of +his fingers he touched the hilt of his sword, which had not left his +side. + +"I shall be charmed," he said at last. + +He ordered a bottle of Burgundy, and having filled Jean's glass and +his own, drank. + +"To your return to Alsheim!" he said. + +Then, drinking it in a draught, he placed the glass upon the table. + +"I am really very pleased to see you again. I live pretty well +alone, and you know my tastes outside my profession, which I adore, +above which I place nothing whatever, nothing if it be not God, who +is the great judge of it. I love hunting best--I think man is made +to move in large spaces, to strengthen his power and his dominion +over the beasts, when he has not the occasion to do it over his +kind. For me there is no pleasure to equal it. Apropos of this, it +seems that M. Oberlé has been ousted from his hunting rights?" + +"Yes," said Jean; "he has given them up almost entirely----" + +"Would you like to have a turn at my place? I have rented some +shooting near Haguenau, half wood and half plain; I have roebuck +which come from the forest--the ancient Sacred Forest; I have hares +and pheasants, and snipe at the time of passage; and if you like +glowworms, I have some who fly under the pine-trees and shine like +the lances of my Hussars." + +The conversation ran on for a while on this subject. Then Farnow +finished the bottle of Carolis wine with Jean, and lifting the +hawthorn which beflowered his epaulet and letting it drop to the +ground, said: + +"If you will allow me, Oberlé, I will go some way with you. What +direction do you take?" + +"Towards the University!" + +"That is my way." + +The two young men got up together. They were nearly of the same +height and figure; both were of an energetic type, although +different in expression--Oberlé, careful to relax all that was too +serious in his face when at rest; Farnow exaggerating the harshness +of his whole personality. The young lieutenant drew down his tunic +to take out the creases, took from a chair his flat cap decorated in +front with a cockade of the Prussian colours, and walking first with +a studied stiffness, half turned towards the table where the +commandant and the captain were sitting, saluted them with an almost +invisible and several times repeated inclination of the body. The +respectful good-fellowship of a short time ago was not now in place. +The two chiefs from habit inspected this lieutenant leaving Carolis. +Gentlemen themselves, very jealous of the honour of their corps, +having learned by heart all the articles of the code of the perfect +officer, they interested themselves in all that had to do with the +conduct, the attitude, the dress, and the speech of a subordinate, +who is the object of public criticism. The examination must have +been favourable to Farnow. With a friendly and protective movement +of his hand, the commandant dismissed him. + +As soon as they were in the street Farnow asked: + +"Well, they were perfect, were they not?" + +"Yes." + +"How you say that? Did you not find them kindly? You ought to see +them in the service." + +"On the contrary," interrupted Jean, "they were too amiable. I see +every day more and more that my father must have humiliated himself +very much to be so honoured in high places. And that wounds me, +Farnow." + +The other looked serious, and said: + +"_Franzosenkopf!_ What a strange character this nation has--who +cannot accept their position as the conquered, and think themselves +dishonoured if Germans make advances to them!" + +"It is because they do nothing gratuitously," said Oberlé. + +Farnow was not displeased at the word. It seemed to him a kind of +homage to the hard, utilitarian temperamant of his race. Besides, +the young lieutenant would not enter into a discussion where he knew +that friendships ran the risk of being spoilt. He greeted a young +woman, who came towards him, and followed her with his eyes. + +"That is the wife of Captain von Holtzberg. Pretty, isn't she?" + +Then pointing to the left, beyond the bridge to the quarters of the +old city, illumined by the vaporous light of this spring morning, he +added, as if the two thoughts were united naturally in his mind: + +"I like this old-world Strasburg. How feudal it is!" + +Above the river, whose waters were soiled by works and sewers, rose +the long sloping roofs, with their high dormer windows, the tiles of +all shades of red--the mediæval purple of Strasburg, mended, +patched, and spotted, and washed, violet in places, nearly yellow in +others adjoining, rose-colour on certain slopes, orange-coloured in +some lights, royally beautiful everywhere and stretched out like a +marvellous Eastern carpet of soft faded silks round the cathedral. +The cathedral itself, built in red stone, viewed from this point, +seemed to have been, and still to be, the pattern which had decided +the colour of all the rest; it was the ornament, the glory, and the +centre of all. A stork, with open wings, cleaving the air with wide +strokes, as an oarsman cleaves water, his feet horizontally +prolonging his body and acting as rudder, his bill a little raised +like a prow, an heraldic bird, was flying through the blue, faithful +to Strasburg, like all its ancient race, protected, sacred like the +place, and always returning to the same nests above the same chimney +stacks. + +Jean and Farnow saw it inclining towards the cathedral spire, and +seen from behind, foreshortened, it looked like some bird beating +the air with its bow of feathers, and then it disappeared. + +"These are the inhabitants," said Farnow, "whom neither the smoke of +our factories, nor the tramways, nor the railways, nor the new +palaces, nor the new order of things can astonish." + +"They have always been German," said Jean with a smile. "The storks +have always worn your colours--white belly, red bill, black wings." + +"So they have," said the officer, laughing. + +He went on his way along the quays, and almost immediately stopped +laughing. Before him, coming from the direction of the new part of +the town, an artillery soldier was leading two horses, or rather he +was being led by them. He was drunk. Walking between the two brown +horses, holding the reins in his raised hands, he went on stumbling, +knocking against the shoulder of one or the other of the beasts, and +to save himself from falling, dragged from time to time at one of +them, which resisted and moved away. + +"What is this?" growled Farnow--"a drunken soldier at this time of +day!" + +"A little too much malt spirit," said Oberlé. "He is not merry in +drink." + +Farnow did not answer. Frowning, he watched the man who was +approaching, and who was only about ten yards away. + +At this distance, according to regimental rules, the man ought to +have walked in step and turned his head in the direction of his +superior officer. Not only had he forgotten all his instruction and +continued to roll painfully between the horses; but at the moment +when he had to pass Farnow he murmured something, no doubt an +insult. + +That was too much. The lieutenant's shoulders shook with anger for a +moment, and then he marched straight to the soldier, whose +frightened horses backed. The officer felt humiliated for Germany. + +"Halt!" he cried. "Stand straight!" + +The soldier looked at him, stupefied, made an effort, and succeeded +in standing still and nearly erect. + +"Your name?" + +The soldier told his name. + +"You will have your punishment at the barracks, you brute! But in +expectation of better things, take this on account, for dishonouring +the uniform as you have!" + +Saying this, he stretched his right arm out at full length, and with +his gloved hand, hard as steel, he hit the man on the face. The +blood ran out at the corner of his mouth; he squared his shoulders; +he drew up his arms as if about to box. The soldier must have been +terribly tempted to retaliate. Jean saw the wandering eyes of the +drunkard when he was thus thrust backwards, turn right round in +their sockets with pain and rage. Then they looked down on the +pavement, overcome by a confused and terrifying remembrance of the +power of the officer. + +"Now march!" cried Farnow. "And do not stumble!" + +He was in the middle of the quay--erect, booted, a head higher than +his victim, as it were surrounded by sunlight, with flashing eyes, +the lower lids and the corners of his lips wrinkled by anger; and +those who called him "Death's Head" must have caught a glimpse of +him like that. + +The loafers who had hurried up to witness the scene and formed a +circle, stood aside at the order of the lieutenant, and let the +soldier pass through, who was trying not to pull the reins too hard. +Then, as a certain number of them remained gathered together, either +silent or merely muttering their opinion, Farnow, turning on his +heels and crossing his arms, looked at them one after the other. The +little bank clerk went by first, adjusting his eyeglasses; then the +milk-woman with her copper pot on her hip passed on by herself, +shrugged her shoulders, ogling Farnow; then the butcher who had come +from the neighbouring shop; then two boatmen who tried to look as if +they did not care, although both had flushed faces; then the urchins +who at first wanted to cry, and who now nudged each other and went +off laughing. The officer drew near to his companion, who had +remained on the left near the canal. + +"I think you went a little too far," said Oberlé. "What you have +just done is forbidden by the Emperor's express orders. You risk a +reprimand." + +"That is the only way to treat those brutes!" said Farnow, his eyes +still blazing. "Besides, believe me, he has already passed on my +blow to his horses, and to-morrow he will have forgotten all about +it." + +The two young men walked side by side to the University gardens, +without speaking to each other, thinking over what had just +happened. Farnow put on a new pair of gloves to replace the others, +probably soiled by the soldier's cheek. He bent towards Jean, +saying gravely and with evident conviction: + +"You were very young when I met you, my dear fellow. We shall have +to tell each other a few things before we shall know exactly our +respective opinions on many points. + +"But I am astonished that you have not yet perceived, you who have +stayed so long in all the German provinces, that we were born to +conquer the world, and that conquerors are never gentle men, nor +ever perfectly just." + +He added, after a few steps: + +"I should be vexed if I have hurt your feelings, Oberlé; but I +cannot hide from you that I do not regret what I did. Only +understand that behind my anger there is discipline, the inviolable +prestige and dignity of the army of which I am a unit. Do not report +the incident to your people, dear fellow, without also adding the +excuse _for_ it. That would mean to betray a friend. Well, +good-bye." + +He held out his hand. His blue eyes lost for the moment something of +their haughty indifference. + +"Good-bye, Oberlé! Here is the door of your Clerk of the Forests." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE MEETING + + +Jean came back in fairly good time to the Strasburg station and took +the train to Obernai, where he had left his bicycle. While going +from Obernai to Alsheim he saw in the meadows through which the +Dachs ran, near Bernhardsweiler, a second stork--motionless on one +leg. + +This was the first thing he told Lucienne, whom he met under the +trees in the park. She was reading, and wore a grey linen dress with +lace on the bodice. When she heard the noise of the bicycle on the +gravel she lifted her intelligent eyes, smiling. + +"My dear, how I have missed you. What in the world makes you go away +so constantly?" + +"I make discoveries, dear sister. First, I have seen two storks, +arriving on the sacred day--April 23--punctual as lawyers." + +A slight pout of her red lips showed that the news did not interest +her much. + +"Then?" + +"I spent three hours in the offices of the Forest Conservators, +where I learned that----" + +"You can tell all that to father," she interrupted. "I see so much +wood here, living and dead, that I have no wish to occupy my mind +with it unnecessarily. Tell me some Strasburg news, or about some +costumes, or some conversation you had with some one in society." + +"That is true," said the young man, laughing. "I did meet some one." + +"Interesting?" + +"Yes; an old acquaintance of Munich, a lieutenant in the Hussars." + +"Lieutenant von Farnow?" + +"Yes, the very man--Lieutenant Wilhelm von Farnow, lieutenant in the +9th Rhenish Hussars. What is the matter?" + +They were halfway down the avenue, hidden by a clump of shrubs. +Lucienne, bold and provoking as ever, crossed her arms and said, in +a quieter tone of voice: + +"Only this--he loves me." + +"_He?_" + +"And I love him!" + +Jean stepped away from his sister in order to see her better. + +"It is not possible!" + +"And why not?" + +"Why, Lucienne, because he is a German, an officer--a Prussian!" + +There was silence; the blow had struck home. Jean, quite pale, went +on: + +"You must also know that he is a Protestant." + +She flung her book on the seat and, holding up her head, quivering +all over at the protest: + +"Do you imagine I have not thought it all over? I know all you can +possibly say. I know that the people in the midst of whom we live in +Alsace here, intolerant and narrow-minded as they are, will not +hesitate to say what they think on the subject. Yes; they will make +a fuss, they will blame me and pity me and try to make me give way. +And you; are you not beginning the game? But I warn you that +arguments are quite useless--all your arguments. I love him. It is +not to be done, it _is_ done. I have only one wish, and that is to +know if you are on my side or against me. For I shall not alter my +mind." + +"Oh, my God! my God!" cried Jean, hiding his face in his hands. + +"I never thought it could hurt you so much. I do not understand. Do +you share their stupid hatred? Tell me. I am putting a strong +control on my feelings that I may talk to you. Tell me then. Speak. +You are paler than I am--I, whom this alone concerns." + +She caught hold of his hands and uncovered his face. And Jean gazed +at her strangely for a moment as do those whose look does not as yet +correspond with their thoughts. + +Then he said: + +"You are mistaken; we are both concerned, Lucienne!" + +"Why?" + +"We are one against the other, because I, too, must tell you that I +love--I love Odile Bastian!" + +She was terrified at what she foresaw in connection with this name; +she was touched at the same time because the argument had reference +to love, and was a confidence. Her irritation passed at once. She +put her head on her brother's shoulder. The curls of her fair hair +intermixed with auburn lay ruffled and disordered against Jean's +neck. + +"Poor, dear Jean," she murmured. "Fate pursues us. Odile Bastian and +the other. Two love affairs which exclude each other! Oh! my poor +dear, it is the drama of our family perpetuating itself through us!" +She straightened herself, thinking she heard a step, and taking her +brother's arm went on nervously: "We cannot talk here, but we must +talk about other than merely surface things. If father suddenly came +across us, or mamma, who is working in the drawing-room at heaven +knows what everlasting piece of embroidery. Ah, my dear, when I +think that only a few steps away from her we are exchanging such +secrets as these, which she little suspects! But first we must think +of ourselves, must we not? Ourselves...!" For a moment she thought +of returning to the house, and of going up to her room with Jean. +Then she decided on a better place of refuge. "Come into the fields, +there no one will disturb us." + +Arm-in-arm, hastening their steps, speaking to each other in low +tones and short sentences, they went through the gate, passed the +end of the enclosure, and to the right of the road, which was higher +than the surrounding land; they went down a sloping path, which +could be seen like a grey ribbon winding its seemingly endless way +through the young corn. Already each of them, after the first moment +of surprise, of dejection, and of real pain caused by the thought of +what the other would suffer, had come back to thoughts of self. + +"Perhaps we are wrong to worry ourselves," said Lucienne, entering +the path. "Is it certain that our plans are irreconcilable?" + +"Yes. Odile Bastian's mother will never agree to her daughter +becoming the sister-in-law of a German officer." + +"And how do you know that this officer would not perhaps prefer +marrying into a family a little less behind the times than ours?" +said Lucienne, hurt. "Your plan may also injure mine." + +"Pardon me; I know Farnow--nothing will stop him." + +"To tell the truth, I think so too!" said the young girl, looking +up, and blushing with pride. + +"He is one of those who are never in the wrong." + +"Exactly so." + +"You share his ambitions." + +"I flatter myself that I do." + +"You can rest assured then: he will have no hesitation. The +scruples will come from the Bastian side, who are the souls of +honour...." + +"Ah! if he heard you," said Lucienne, letting go her brother's arm, +"he would fight you." + +"What would that prove?" + +"That he felt your insult as I felt it myself, Jean. For Lieutenant +von Farnow is a man of honour!" + +"Yes, in _his_ way--which is not our way." + +"Very good! Very noble!" + +"Rather feudal, this nobility of theirs. They have not had the time +to have that of a later date. But after all it does not matter. I am +not in a mood for discussion. I suffer too much. All I wish to say +is that when I ask for Odile's hand I shall be refused. I foresee +it, I am sure of it; and that von Farnow will not understand why, +and if he did understand he would not withdraw, he would never think +of sacrificing himself. In speaking like this, I am not slandering +him. I simply understand him." + +They walked on, enveloped in an atmosphere of light and warmth, +which they did not enjoy, between long strips of young corn, smiling +unnoticed around them. In the plain, some labourers seeing them pass +side by side, walking together, envied them. Lucienne could not deny +that her brother's forebodings were reasonable. Yes, it must be so, +judging from what she herself knew of Lieutenant von Farnow and the +Bastians. In any other circumstance she would have pitied her +brother, but personal interest spoke louder than pity. She felt a +kind of disturbed joy when she heard Jean acknowledge his fears. She +felt encouraged _not_ to be generous, because she felt he was +anxious. Not being able to pity him, she at any rate drew near to +him, and talked to him about herself. + +"If we had lived together longer, Jean," she said, "you would have +known my ideas on marriage, and I should astonish you less to-day. I +had made up my mind to marry only a very rich man. I dislike the +fear of what to-morrow may bring; I want certainty and to lead...." + +"The conditions are fulfilled," said Jean, with bitterness. "Farnow +has a vast property in Silesia. But at the same time he is also +lieutenant in the 9th regiment of Rhenish Hussars!" + +"Well!" + +"Officer in an army against which your father has fought, your uncle +has fought, and all your relations, every one old enough to carry +arms." + +"Quite right. And I would not have asked anything better than to +marry an Alsatian. Perhaps I even wished to do so without saying +anything about it. But I did not find what I wished. Nearly all who +had name, fortune, or influence have chosen France; that is to say, +they all left Alsace after the war. They called it patriotism. +Truly, words can serve every use. Who remain? You can easily count +the young people of Alsatian origin belonging to wealthy families, +and who could have aspired to the hand of Lucienne Oberlé." + +She went on more excitedly: + +"But they did not ask for me; and they will not ask for me, my dear! +That is what you have never understood. They kept away, they and +their parents, because father.... + +"They have put us and our family under an interdict. I am, in +consequence, one of those they do not marry. Owing to their +intolerance, the narrowness of their conception of life, I am +condemned by them. They call me the 'beautiful Lucienne Oberlé,' but +none of those who like to look at me, and greet me with affected +respect would dare to defy his people and make me his wife. I have +not had to choose; you cannot reproach me on that score. The +situation is such that, willing or not, I shall not be asked in +marriage by an Alsatian. It is not my fault. I knew what I was +doing when I accepted Lieutenant von Farnow!" + +"Accepted?" + +"In the sense that I am bound--certainly. During last autumn, but +especially for the last four months, Lieutenant von Farnow has paid +me a great deal of attention." + +"Then it was he on horseback, there on the road, the night I +returned?" + +"Yes." + +"Was it he who recently came to visit the saw-mills with another +officer?" + +"Yes; but I have met him mostly in society at Strasburg, when father +took me to balls and dinners.--You know that mamma, because of her +poor health--but above all because of her hatred of everything +German--generally avoids accompanying me. I met Lieutenant von +Farnow constantly. He had every chance of talking to me. + +"At last, when he came here, just lately, he asked father if I would +allow him to pay me definite attentions. And this very morning, +after lunch, I answered 'Yes.'" + +"Then father consents?" + +"Yes." + +"The others?" + +"Know nothing about it. And it will be terrible. Think of it. My +mother, my grandfather, Uncle Ulrich! I hoped for your support, +Jean, to help me overcome all these difficulties, and to help me +also to heal all the wounds I am going to inflict. First of all, von +Farnow must be introduced to mamma, who does not know him. Alsheim +is quite impossible. We have been thinking of a meeting at some +mutual friend's house in Strasburg. But if I have to consider you as +one more enemy, what good is there in my telling you my plans?" + +They stood still, Jean reflecting for a moment, as he faced the +plain, which unrolled its strips of barley, and young corn, +intermingling at the edges like the flow and counterflow of running +water. Then, gathering his thoughts together and looking at +Lucienne, who was waiting for his words, with raised face, +suppliant, restless, and ardent. + +"You cannot imagine how much I am suffering. You have destroyed all +my joy!" + +"My dear, I did not know about your love!" + +"And I--I have not the courage to destroy yours...." + +Lucienne threw her arms round his neck. + +"How generous you are, Jean! How good you are!" + +He put her away from him, and said sadly: + +"Not so generous as you imagine, Lucienne, for that would be to show +myself very weak. No; I do not approve of your decision. I have no +confidence in your happiness...." + +"But at least you will leave me free? You will not go against me? +You will help me against mamma?" + +"Yes, since you have gone so far, and since our father has given his +consent, and since our mother's opposition might only cause still +greater unhappiness...." + +"You are right, Jean. Greater unhappiness, for father told me +that----" + +"Yes, I guess. He told you that he would crush all opposition, that +he would leave our mother rather than give in. That is all very +likely. He would do it. I shall not enter into any struggle with +him. Only, I keep my liberty of action with regard to von Farnow." + +"What do you mean by that?" she asked quickly. + +"I wish," Jean replied, in a tone of authority, in which Lucienne +felt her brother's invincible determination, "I wish to let him +know exactly what I think. I shall find some means of having an +explanation with him. If he persists, after that, in his desire to +marry you, he will make no mistake, at least as to the difference of +feeling and ideas which separate us." + +"I do not mind that," answered Lucienne, reassured, and she smiled, +being certain that von Farnow would stand the trial. + +She turned towards Alsheim. A cry of victory was on her lips, but +she restrained it. For some time she stood silent, breathing +quickly, and seeking with her eyes and mind what she could say so +that her happiness should not appear an insult to her brother. + +Then she shook her head. + +"Poor house," she said. "Now that I am going to leave it, it is +becoming dear to me. I am persuaded that later on, when life in the +garrison takes me away from Alsace, I shall have visions of Alsheim. +I shall see it in imagination, just as it stands there." + +In the midst of its girdle of orchards were massed together the red +roofs of the village. And both village and trees formed an island +among the corn and April clover. Little birds, gilded by the +sunshine, were flying over Alsheim. The house of the Oberlés at this +distance seemed only to be one of many. There was so much sweetness +in all things that one might have imagined life itself sweet. + +Lucienne gave herself up to this appreciation of beauty, which only +came to her as a consequence of her thoughts of love. Again she +heard her own words, "I shall have visions of Alsheim just as it +stands there." Then the undulating line of the Bastians' wood, which +rose like a little blue cloud beyond the farthest gardens, reminded +her of Jean's trouble. She only then realised that he had not +answered her. She was moved, not enough to ask herself if she +should renounce her happiness to make Jean happy, but up to the +point of regretting, with a sort of tender violence, this conflict +between their loves. She would have liked to soothe the pain she had +caused, to comfort it with words, to put it to rest, and not to feel +it so close to her and so alive. + +"Jean, my brother Jean," she said, "I will requite you for all you +are doing for me by helping you, by doing my very best for you. Who +knows but by working together we may not be able to solve the +problem?" + +"No; it is beyond your power and mine." + +"Odile loves you? Yes, of course she loves you. Then you will be +very strong." + +Jean made a movement of weariness. + +"Do not try, Lucienne. Let us go back." + +"I beseech you. Tell me at least how you came to love her? I can +understand that. We said we would tell each other more than the +names. You have only me to whom you can speak your mind without +danger." + +She was making herself out to be humble. She was even humiliated by +her secret happiness. She renewed her request, was affectionate, and +found the right words to describe Odile's stately beauty, and Jean +spoke. + +He did it because his need to confide to some one the hope which had +been his--a hope which was still struggling not to die. He told of +the Easter vigil at Sainte Odile and how he had met the young girl +on Maundy Thursday in the cherry avenue. From that, each helping the +other to recall happenings, to fix dates, to find words, they went +back into the past, up to long-ago times when their parents were not +at variance, or at least when the children were ignorant of their +dissensions or did not perceive them, when in the holidays Lucienne, +Odile, and Jean might believe that the two families, united in +intimate friendship, would continue to live as important +land-owners, respected and beloved by the village of Alsheim. + +Lucienne did not realise that in calling up these pictures of the +happy past she was not calming her brother's mind. He may have found +pleasure in them for a moment, hoping to get away from the present, +but a comparison was immediately drawn, and his revolt was only the +more profound, arousing all the powers of his being, against his +father, against his sister, against that false pity behind which +Lucienne's incapability of sacrifice was hidden. Soon the young man +gave up answering his sister. Alsheim was getting nearer, and was +now a long outline broken here and there. In the calm evening the +Oberlés' house raised its protecting roof amid the tops of the +trees, still bare. When the park gates, closed each day when the +workmen left, were opened for the two pedestrians, Jean slipped +behind Lucienne, and, making her go on, said, in very low, ironical +tones: + +"Come, Baroness von Farnow, enter the house of the old protesting +deputy, Philippe Oberlé." + +She was going to make a retort, but an energetic footstep scrunched +the gravel, a man turned into the avenue round a gigantic clump of +beeches, and a resonant, imperious voice, which was singing in order +to appear the voice of a happy man without any regrets, cried: + +"There you are, my children! What a nice walk you must have had! +From the waterfall by the works I saw you in the corn leaning +towards each other like lovers." + +M. Joseph Oberlé questioned the faces of his children, and saw that +Lucienne at least was smiling. + +"Did we have things to tell each other?" he went on. "Great secrets, +perhaps?" + +Lucienne, embarrassed by the nearness of the lodge, and still more +so by the exasperation of her brother, answered quickly: + +"Yes; I have spoken to Jean. He has understood. He will not oppose +my wishes." + +The father seized his son's hand. "I expected nothing else from him. +I thank you, Jean. I shall not forget that." + +In his left hand he took Lucienne's, and, like a happy father +between his two children, he crossed the park by the long, winding +carriage drive. + +A woman behind the drawing-room window saw them come, and her +pleasure in looking at this scene was not undiluted. She asked +herself if the father and children had united against her. + +"You know, dear Jean," said the father, holding up his head and, as +it were, questioning the front of the château. "You know that I wish +to spare susceptibilities and to prepare solutions, and not to +insist on them until I am forced to do so. We are invited to the +Brausigs'----" + +"Ah! is it already settled?" + +"Yes, to a dinner, to a fairly large evening party--not too many +people. I think that would be a very good opportunity to present +Lieutenant von Farnow to your mother. I shall only speak of this to +your mother later on. And in order not to bias any of her +impressions--you know how timid she is--so that she does not meet my +look when she talks to this young man, I shall refuse for myself--I +shall confide Lucienne's future to you. All my dream is to make this +dear one happy. Not a word to my father. He will be the last to +learn what does not really concern him but secondarily." + +The great empty space by the flight of steps had not seen for a long +time such a united group walk on the well-rolled gravel. + +In the drawing-room, keeping herself a little back, trying to make +her mind easy and not succeeding, Madame Oberlé had left off +working. The embroidery was on the floor. + +Jean was thinking. + +"I shall thus assist at the interview, and I shall take mamma there, +who will suspect nothing. What a part to play to avoid greater +evils! Happily, she will forgive me one day when she knows +everything." + + * * * * * + +Late that night, kissing her son, Madame Oberlé said: + +"Your father insists upon my accepting the Brausigs' invitation. Are +you going, my darling?" + +"Yes, mamma." + +"Then I shall also go." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE DINNER AT THE BRAUSIGS' + + +At seven o'clock the guests of the Geheimrath Brausig were gathered +together in the blue drawing-room--with its plush and gilded +wood--which that official had taken with him to the different towns +he had lived in. The Geheimrath was a Saxon of excellent education, +and of amiable though somewhat fawning manners. He seemed always to +bend in any direction in which he was touched. But the frame-work +was solid; and, on the contrary, he was a man whose ideas were +unchangeable. He was tall, ruddy, nearly blind, and wore his hair +long, and his red beard streaked with white, he wore short. He did +not wear spectacles, because his eyes, of a pale agate colour, were +neither shortsighted nor longsighted, but were worn out and almost +dead. He was a great talker. His speciality was to reconcile the +most opposite opinions. In his offices, in his relations with his +inferiors one saw the real basis of his character. Herr Brausig had +an Imperial spirit. He never allowed private people to be in the +right. The words "Public interest" seemed to him to answer all +arguments. In the official world they talked about raising him to +the nobility. He repeated this. His wife was fifty years old, had +the remains of beauty and an imposing figure; she had received the +officials of eight German towns before coming to live in Strasburg. +At her entertainments she gave all her attention to supervising the +servants, and her impatience at the countless annoyances connected +with their service, which she tried to hide, did not allow her to +reply to her neighbours except in sentences absolutely devoid of +interest. + +The guests formed a mixture of races and professions which one would +not so easily come across in any other German town. There are so +many imported elements in the Strasburg of to-day! They were +fourteen in number, the dining-room could seat sixteen with a little +over two feet of table for each person, such space being an +essential in the eyes of the Geheimrath. He had in his house, around +him--and he dominated them with his sad, insipid head--some +protégés, people recommended to him, or friends gathered together +from various parts of the empire: two Prussian students from the +University of Strasburg, then two young Alsatian artists, two +painters who had been working for a year at the decoration of a +church; these were the unimportant guests, to which we must add the +two Oberlés, brother and sister, and even the mother, who was looked +upon in the official world as a person of limited intellect. The +guests of note were Professor Knäpple, from Mecklenburg, cultured +and studious, whose erudition consisted chiefly of minutiæ, and the +author of an excellent work on the socialism of Plato. He was the +husband of a pretty wife, round and pink, who seemed fairer and +pinker by the side of her dark husband, with his black beard curling +like an Assyrian's. The Professor of Æsthetics, Baron von Fincken +from Baden--who shaved his cheeks and chin, so that the scars gained +in the duels of his student days might be better seen, was of a +slender, nervous build; his head was of the energetic type, his nose +was turned up and showing the cartilage very plainly; ardent, +passionate, and very anti-French, and yet he looked more like a +Frenchman than any one present, except Jean Oberlé. There was no +Madame von Fincken. But there was beautiful Madame Rosenblatt, the +woman who was more envied, sought after, looked up to, than any +other woman in the German society of Strasburg, even in the military +world, because of her beauty and intelligence. She came from Rhenish +Prussia, as did also her husband, the great iron-master, Karl +Rosenblatt, multi-millionaire, a man of sanguine temperament, and at +the same time methodical and silent, and one said that he was bold +and cold and calculating in business. + +This party was like all the parties that the Geheimrath gave; there +was no homogeneity. The official himself called that conciliating +the different elements of the country. He also spoke of the "neutral +ground" of his house and of the "open tribunal," for each and every +opinion. But many Alsatians did not trust this eclecticism and this +liberty. Some maintained that Herr Brausig was simply playing a +part, and that whatever was said in his house was always known in +higher spheres. + +Madame Oberlé and her children were the last to arrive at the +Geheimrath. The German guests welcomed Lucienne, who was intimate +with them already. They were polite to the mother, because they knew +she only went into Government society under constraint. Wilhelm von +Farnow, introduced by Madame Brausig, who alone knew about the +officer's plans, bowed ceremoniously to the mother and the young +girl, drew himself up erect, stood stiffly, then returned at once to +the group of men standing near the mirror. + +A servant announced that dinner was served. There was a movement +among the black coats, and the guests entered the large room, +decorated as at the Oberlés' house with evident predilection. But +the taste was not the same. The vaulted bays with two mullions, +decorated with rose windows in the pointed arch, and filled with +stained-glass, of which at this time only the lead-work was to be +seen; the sideboards with torso pillars with sculptured panels; the +wainscoting rising to the ceiling and ending in little spires; the +ceiling itself divided into numerous sunk panels, and in the carving +of which electric lamps shone like fire blossoms: the whole +decoration recalled to mind Gothic art. + +Jean, who came in one of the last in the procession of diners, gave +his arm to pretty Madame Knäpple, who had eyes only for the +wonderfully made and equally wonderfully worn dress of Madame +Rosenblatt. Professor Knäpple's little wife thought she saw that +Jean Oberlé was noticing the same thing. So she said: + +"The low neck is indecent. Don't you think so?" + +"I find it irreproachable. I think that Madame Rosenblatt must go to +Paris for her dresses." + +"Yes; you have guessed rightly," answered the homely little woman. +"When one has such a fortune one has often odd fancies, and but +little patriotism." + +The beginning of the meal was rather silent. Little by little the +noise of different conversations rose. They began to drink. M. +Rosenblatt had large bumpers of Rhine wine poured out for him. The +two students in spectacles came back to Wolxheim wine, with as +serious a mien as if it were some difficult passage in the classics. +The voices grew louder. The servants' footsteps could no longer be +heard on the parquet floor. General conversation began as the froth +of intellects had been moved by the light and the wine. Professor +Knäpple, who had a quiet voice, but a manner of pronouncing very +clearly and distinctly, was heard above the hum of conversation, +when he answered his neighbour, Madame Brausig: + +"No; I do not understand that one should join the strong because one +is strong. I have always been a liberal." + +"You are alluding to the Transvaal perhaps," said the Geheimrath +opposite, with a loud laugh, pleased at having guessed. + +"Precisely, Herr Geheimrath. It is not political greatness to crush +small nations." + +"You find that extraordinary?" + +"No; very ordinary. But I do say there is nothing to boast about in +that." + +"Have other nations acted differently?" asked Baron von Fincken. + +He turned up his insolent nose. No one carried on the discussion, as +if the argument were unanswerable. And the wave of general talk +rolled on, intermingling and drowning the private conversations of +which it consisted. + +Madame Rosenblatt's musical voice broke the hum of talk. She was +saying to little Madame Knäpple, placed on the other side of the +table: + +"Yes, madame, I assure you that the question has been discussed. +Everything is possible, madame; however, I should not have thought +that the Municipality of a German town could even discuss such an +idea." + +"Not so devoid of sense; don't you think so, Professor, you who +lecture on æsthetics?" + +Professor von Fincken, seated at the right hand of the beautiful +Madame Rosenblatt, turned towards her, looked into the depths of her +eyes, which remained like an unrippled lake, and said: + +"What is it about, madame?" + +"I told Madame Knäpple that in the Municipal Council the question +had been raised of sending the Gobelin Tapestries which the town +possesses, to Paris to be mended." + +"That is right, madame, the noes have it." + +"Why not to Berlin?" asked Madame Knäpple's pretty red mouth. "Do +they happen to work so badly in Berlin?" + +The Geheimrath found it time to "conciliate." "To make Gobelin +tapestry, without doubt, Madame Rosenblatt, is right, and Paris is +necessary; but to mend them! I think--it seems to me--that can be +done in Germany." + +"Send our tapestry to Paris!" expostulated Madame Knäpple. "How do +they know if they would ever come back?" + +"Oh!" one of the young painters at the end of the table answered +gravely. "Oh, madame!" + +"How! Oh! You are an Alsatian, sir," said the homely little woman, +pricked by the interjection as if it had been the point of a needle. +"But we--we have the right to be mistrustful." + +She had gone too far. No one stood up for her verdict--general +conversation stopped, and was replaced by flattering appreciations +made by each guest on some quails in aspic which had just been +served. Madame Knäpple herself came back to subjects with which she +was more familiar, for she but rarely took any part in discussions +when men were present. She turned towards her neighbour, von Farnow, +which prevented her from seeing the elegant Madame Rosenblatt, and +Madame Rosenblatt's beautiful dress, and the periwinkle-blue eyes of +Madame Rosenblatt, and she undertook to explain to the young man how +to do quails in aspic, and how to make "Cup" according to her +recipe. However, for the second time their thoughts had been turned +to the vanquished nation--and this thought continued to disturb +their minds in a vague way, while champagne, German-labelled, was +sparkling in the glasses. + +Madame Brausig had only exchanged very unmeaning words with M. +Rosenblatt, her neighbour on the right, and with Professor Knäpple, +her neighbour on the left, who preferred talking to Madame +Rosenblatt, and Baron von Fincken, her _vis-à-vis_, and sometimes +with Jean Oberlé. It was she, however, who started a fresh +discussion, without wishing to. And the conversation rose at once to +a height it had not yet reached. The councillor's wife was speaking +to M. Rosenblatt--looking all the time angrily at a servant who had +just knocked against the chair of her most important guest, Madame +Rosenblatt; she was speaking of a marriage between an Alsatian and a +German from Hanover, the commandant of the regiment of Foot +Artillery No. 10. The iron-master answered quite loudly, without +knowing that he was sitting beside the mother of a young girl sought +after by an officer: + +"The children will be good Germans. Such marriages are very rare, +and I regret it, because they add immensely to the Germanisation of +this obstinate country." + +Baron von Fincken emptied his champagne glass at a draught and, +placing it on the table, said: + +"All means are good, because the end is good." + +"Certainly," said M. Rosenblatt. + +Jean Oberlé was the best known of the three Alsatians present, and +the best qualified to make a reply, and yet the most disqualified, +it seemed to him, to give his opinion, because of the discussions +which this question had caused in his own house. He saw that Baron +von Fincken had looked at him as he spoke, that Herr Rosenblatt was +staring at him, that Professor Knäpple cast a glance at his +left-hand neighbour, that Rosenblatt smiled with the air of one who +would say "Is this little fellow capable of defending his nation? +Will he answer to the spur? Let us see!" + +The young man answered, choosing his adversary, and, turning towards +the Baron, "On the contrary, I think that the Germanisation of +Alsace is a bad and clumsy action." + +At the same time his face grew harder and the green in his eyes +vibrated, like the green of the forests when the wind blows the +leaves of the trees the wrong way. + +The Professor of Æsthetics looked like a man of the sword. + +"Why bad, if you please? Do you look upon the conquest as +unpleasant? This is the sequel of that? Do you think so, really? But +say so, then!" + +In the silence of all present the answer of Jean Oberlé fell clear +and distinct. + +"Yes." + +"You dare, sir!" + +"Allow me," said the Geheimrath Brausig, stretching out his hand as +if to bless them. "Here we are all good Germans, my dear baron! You +have no right to suspect the patriotism of our young friend, who is +only speaking from a historical point of view!" + +Madame Oberlé and Lucienne signed to Jean. + +"Be quiet! be quiet!" + +But Baron von Fincken saw nothing and heard nothing. The bitter +passion of which his face was the symbol was let loose. He half +rose, and leaning forward, with his head over the table, he said: + +"France is pretty! united! powerful and moral!" + +Little Madame Knäpple went on: + +"Above all, moral!" + +Voices high, low, ironical, and irritated rang out confusedly. + +"Deceivers, the French! Look at their novels and plays! France is +decadent! A worn-out nation! What will she do against fifty-five +millions of Germans?" + +Jean let the avalanche pass; he looked now at Fincken, who was +gesticulating, now at von Farnow, who was silent, with head held +high and frowning brows. + +"I believe France is very much calumniated," he said at last. "She +may be governed badly. She may be weakened by dissensions; but since +you attack her, I am delighted to tell you that I look upon her as +a very great nation. Even you yourselves have no other opinion." + +Veritable clamours arose. Ah! Oh! Indeed. + +"Your very fury against her proves this. You have conquered her, but +you have not left off envying her!" + +"Do you read the commercial statistics, young man?" asked the +resolute voice of Herr Rosenblatt. + +"Her merchant navy is in the sixth rank!" whispered one of the +students. + +Professor Knäpple fixed his spectacles on his nose and very clearly +articulated the following proposition: + +"What you say, my dear Oberlé, is true as regards the past. Even +to-day I think I can add, that if we had France to ourselves she +would rapidly become a great country. We should know how to improve +her." + +"I beg you," added von Fincken insolently, "not to discuss an +opinion which is not tenable." + +"I beg you, in my turn," said Jean, "not to use in discussion +arguments which are not conclusive, and do not really touch the +question. One cannot judge a country simply and solely by its +commerce, its navy, or its army." + +"On what would you form your judgment then, sir?" + +"On the soul of the country, sir. France has hers; that I know from +history and from I know not what filial instinct I feel within me; +and I firmly believe that there are many superior virtues, eminent +qualities, generosity, disinterestedness, love of justice, taste, +delicacy, and a certain flower of heroism, which are to be found +more often than elsewhere in the past and in the present of this +nation. I could give many proofs of it. Even if she were as weak as +you assert, she holds treasures which are the honour of the world, +which must be torn from her before she merits death, and by the +side of these things the remainder seems very small. Your +Germanisation, sir, is only destruction or diminution of those +virtues or French qualities in the Alsatian soul. And that is why I +maintain that it is bad!" + +"Come now," said Fincken, "Alsace belongs naturally to Germany; she +has made her come back. We make our repossession sure. Who would not +do as much?" + +"France!" answered Oberlé; "and that is why we love her. She might +have taken the territory, but she would not have done violence to +the soul. We belong to her by right of love." + +The baron shrugged his shoulders. + +"Go back then to her!" + +Jean almost shouted, "Yes." The servants stopped to listen, in +passing round the sweets. He went on: + +"I find your attempt bad in itself, because it is a repression of +consciences; but I also find that it is clumsy, even from a German +point of view." + +"Charming," said the little falsetto of Madame Knäpple. "You should +have the interest to keep what originality and independence remains +to us. It would be a useful example to Germany." + +"Thanks," said a voice. + +"And more and more useful," insisted the young man. "I was educated +in Germany and I am sure of my contention. What struck me most, and +shocked me, is the want of personality in Germans, their increasing +forgetfulness of liberty, their effacement before the power of----" + +"Take care, young man!" interrupted the Geheimrath quickly. + +"I shall say before the power of Prussia, Geheimrath, which devours +consciences, and which allows only three types of men to live, and +these she has moulded from childhood--taxpayers, officials, and +soldiers." + +From the end of the table one of the students rose from his chair: + +"The Roman Empire did the same, and it was the Roman Empire!" + +A vibrating voice near him cried: + +"Bravo!" + +All the guests looked up. It was Wilhelm von Farnow, who had said +only this one word since the beginning of the discussion. The +violence of the debate had irritated him like a personal +provocation. It had excited others. Herr Rosenblatt clenched his +fists. Professor Knäpple muttered stormy sentences as he wiped his +spectacles. His wife laughed nervously. + +Then the beautiful Madame Rosenblatt, letting her pearl necklace run +through her fingers, smiled, and looking pleasantly at the Alsatian, +said: + +"M. Oberlé has at least the courage of his opinions. No one could be +more openly against us." + +Jean felt far too irritated to answer pleasantly. He looked intently +at the faces of Fincken, Rosenblatt, and Knäpple, at the student who +was moving restlessly near Lucienne, and then leaning slightly +towards Madame Rosenblatt, said: + +"It is only through the women that the German nation can acquire the +refinement which is wanting, madame. Germany has some accomplished +women." + +"Thank you for us!" answered three men's voices. + +Madame Knäpple, furious at the compliment paid to Madame Rosenblatt, +said: + +"What is your scheme then, sir, for shaking off the yoke of +Germany?" + +"I have none." + +"Then what do you ask for?" + +"Nothing, madame; I suffer." + +It was one of the Alsatian artists, the painter with the yellow +beard, who looked like one of Giotto's pupils, who continued the +conversation, and all the table turned towards him. + +"I am not like M. Oberlé, who asks for nothing. He has only just +come into the country after a long absence. If he had lived here +some time, he would come to a different conclusion. We Alsatians of +the new generation through our contact with three hundred thousand +Germans have had the difference of our French culture from that of +Germany conclusively demonstrated. We prefer our own; that is +permitted? In exchange for the loyalty that we have shown to +Germany, the taxes we pay, the military service we perform--we +desire to remain Alsatians. And you determinedly refuse to +understand. Our demand is that we should not be compelled to submit +to exceptional laws, to this sort of state of siege which we have +endured for thirty years. We demand that we should not be treated +and governed as a country of the Empire--after the fashion of the +Cameroons, Togoland, and New Guinea, the Bismarck Archipelago, or +the Isles of Providence, but like a European province of the German +Empire. We shall not be satisfied until that day comes when we can +feel we are in our own home here--Alsatians in Alsace, as the +Bavarians are Bavarians in Bavaria. Whilst as things are, we are the +conquered ones waiting on the good pleasure of a master. That is my +demand!" + +He spoke clearly, with apparent coldness, and his golden beard +looked like the point of an arrow. His measured words succeeded in +exciting their minds--and one could foresee the angry answer when +Geheimrathin Brausig rose. + +Her guests followed suit, and went into the blue drawing-room. + +"You were absurd! What were you thinking about?" Lucienne asked in +an undertone as she passed Jean. + +"Perhaps what you said was imprudent," added Madame Oberlé, a moment +after; "but you defended Alsace well--and I approve of you." + +The Geheimrath was already turning to all sides, making use of the +usual formula, which he murmured into the ears of Fincken, von +Farnow, of Rosenblatt and Professor Knäpple, the two students, Jean, +and the two Alsatian artists: + +"Do me the pleasure of following me to the smoking-room!" + +The smoking-room was a second drawing-room, separated from the first +by plate-glass. + +M. Brausig's guests were soon reunited there. Cigars and beer were +brought. Smoke spirals went up, mingled together, and rose to the +ceiling. M. Rosenblatt became a centre of conversation. The +Professor Knäpple became another. The loud voices seemed to be +wrangling, but were only explaining simple ideas with difficulty. + +Alone, two men were talking of a serious subject and making but +little noise. They were Jean Oberlé and von Farnow. Scarcely had the +former lit his cigar when von Farnow touched Jean's arm and said: + +"I want to have a little conversation with you apart." + +To be more free, the young men seated themselves near the monumental +mantelpiece, facing the bay which opened into the drawing-room, +while the other smokers grouped round M. Rosenblatt and Baron von +Fincken occupied the embrasure of the windows. + +"You were violent to-night, my dear fellow," said von Farnow, with +the haughty politeness which he often adopted; "I was tempted twenty +times to answer you, but I preferred waiting. Were you not aiming at +me a little?" + +"Much of what I said was meant for you. I wanted to tell you very +clearly what I was and to teach it to you before witnesses, so that +it should be clearly understood that if you persevere in your +projects, I have made no concessions to you, no advances; that I +have nothing whatever to do with the marriage you are contemplating. +I am not going to oppose my father's wishes, but I will not have my +ideas confused with his." + +"That is how I understood it. You have evidently learned that I have +met your sister in society and that I love her?" + +"Yes." + +"Is that all you have to answer?" + +A rush of blood suffused the German's cheeks. + +"Explain yourself quickly!" he went on. "My family is of the +nobility; do you recognise that?" + +"Yes." + +"Do you recognise that it is an honour for a woman to be sought by a +German officer?" + +"For any except an Alsatian woman. But although you do not +understand that feeling, we are not like other people--we are the +people of Alsace. I esteem you very much, Farnow, but your marriage +with my sister will cruelly affect three persons among us--myself +first of all." + +"How? I ask you!" + +They were obliged to speak in an undertone and to avoid any +gestures, because of the presence of the Geheimrath's guests at the +farther end of the room, who were observing the young men, and were +trying to interpret their attitudes. All their emotion and their +irritation was in their eyes and in the whispering of words which +must only be heard by one person. + +Through the sheet of plate-glass, Lucienne could see von Farnow, and +getting up and crossing the drawing-room, or pretending to admire +the basket of flowers which stood out from the frame-work, she +looked inquiringly at the faces of the officer and of her brother. + +"You are a man of heart, von Farnow. Think what our home in Alsheim +will be when this fresh cause of dissension is added to the others?" + +"I shall go away," said the officer; "I can exchange and leave +Strasburg." + +"The memory will remain with us. But that is not all. And from now +on there is my mother, who will never consent...." + +With a movement of his hand von Farnow showed that he brushed aside +that objection. + +"There is my grandfather, whom Alsace once elected to protest, and +who cannot to-day give the lie to all his past life." + +"I owe nothing to M. Philippe Oberlé," interrupted Farnow. + +His voice became more imperious. + +"I warn you that I never give up a resolution once taken. When M. +von Kassewitz, the prefect of Strasburg, and the only near relation +remaining to me, returns from the holiday he is going to take in a +few days' time, he will go to Alsheim, to your house; he will ask +for the hand of Mlle. Lucienne Oberlé for his nephew, and his +request will be granted, because Mlle. Lucienne Oberlé wishes to +accept me, because her father has already consented, and because I +will have it so--I, Wilhelm von Farnow!" + +"It remains to be seen whether you have done well...." + +"According to my will: that is sufficient for me." + +"How much pride there is in your love, Farnow!" + +"It is in everything I do, Oberlé!" + +"Do you think I am mistaken? My sister pleases you because she is +pretty?" + +"Yes." + +"Intelligent?" + +"Yes." + +"But also because she is an Alsatian girl! Your pride has seen in +her a victory to be gained. You are not ignorant of the fact that +the women of Alsace are in the habit of refusing Germans. They are +queens not easily accessible to your amorous ambitions, from the +country girls, who at their gatherings refuse to dance with the +emigrants, up to our sisters, who are not often seen in your +drawing-rooms or on your arms. In the various regiments you will +belong to you will boast that you have won Lucienne Oberlé. It will +even be a good mark for you in high quarters? Will it not?" + +"Perhaps," said Farnow with a sneer. + +"Go on then, break, or finish breaking, three of us!" + +They were getting more and more irritated, each trying to control +himself. + +The officer rose, threw away his cigar, and said haughtily: + +"We are civilised barbarians--that is understood, less burdened than +you with prejudices and pretensions to justice. That is why we shall +conquer the world. But in the meantime, Oberlé, I am going to join +your mother and talk to her, as amiably as an enemy possibly can. +Will you accompany me?" + +Jean Oberlé shook his head in the negative. + +Farnow crossed the smoking-room, leaving Oberlé there. + +Lucienne was anxiously awaiting him in the drawing-room. She saw him +direct his steps towards Madame Oberlé, and, forcing himself to +smile, place a chair near the arm-chair in which the fragile +Alsatian lady in black was sitting. At the same time the Geheimrath +called out, "Oberlé! You have smoked a cigar without even drinking +one glass of beer. But that is a crime! Come. Professor Knäpple is +explaining the measures the Government is taking to prevent the +Russianising of the eastern provinces of Germany." + + * * * * * + +Late that night, a landau bore away to Alsheim three travellers; it +had fetched them from the station at Molsheim. + +The way there was a long one, and Lucienne soon went to sleep in the +carriage. Her mother, who had hardly said anything up to then, bent +towards her son, and, pointing to the beautiful creature sound +asleep, asked him: + +"You knew?" + +"Yes." + +"I guessed it. There was no need to tell me much. I have seen her +look at him. Oh, Jean, this trial that I hoped to escape!--the fear +of which has made me accept so many, many things! I have only you +left, my Jean! But you remain to me!" + +She kissed him fervently. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +IN SUSPENSE + + +As things do not usually happen as we foresee, the visit of Herr von +Kassewitz to Alsheim did not take place on the date Farnow said it +would. Towards the end of June--at the moment when the prefect, +returned from taking the waters, was getting ready to go to ask for +Lucienne's hand, a telegram had asked him to put off the visit. The +condition of M. Philippe Oberlé had suddenly become worse. + +The old man, whom it was necessary to inform of what was going on in +the house, had just learned the truth. His son had gone up one +morning to the sick man's room. "With circumlocution and in ways +that he took out of respect and consideration for him, he let it be +seen that Lucienne was not indifferent to the advances of a cavalry +officer belonging to a high German family; he had said that the +liking was spontaneous; that he, Joseph Oberlé, in spite of certain +regrets, did not believe that he had the right to thwart the freedom +of his children, and that he hoped that his father, in the interests +of peace, would be resigned. + +"My father," he said, "you are not ignorant of the fact that your +opposition would be useless and purely vexatious. You have a chance +to give Lucienne a great proof of your affection, as we ourselves +have given; do not repulse her." + +The old man had asked in signs: + +"And Monica; has she consented?" + +M. Joseph Oberlé had been able to answer yes, without telling a lie, +for the poor woman, threatened with a separation, had yielded once +more. Then the sick man put an end to his son's long monologue by +writing two words, which were his answer: + +"Not I!" + +The same evening, fever declared itself. It continued the following +day, and soon became so persistent and weakening that the condition +of the sick man troubled the Oberlés. + +From this day on, the health of M. Philippe Oberlé became the topic +of anxious inquiries, evening and morning. They questioned Madame +Monica or Jean, whom he received whilst excluding the others. + +"How is he? Is his strength returning? Has he still all his wits +about him--the full use of his mental faculties?" + +Each one was wondering what was happening up above in the room where +the old fighter, who had half disappeared from the world of the +living, still governed his divided family, holding them all +dependent on him. They spoke of their uneasiness, and under this +name, which they rightly used, what projects were hid, what +different thoughts! + +Jean himself awaited the issue of this crisis with an impatience in +which his affection for his grandfather was not the only interest +involved. Since the explanation he had had with Lucienne, especially +since the party at the Geheimrath's, all intimacy between brother +and sister had ceased. Lucienne was as amiable and just as +officiously kind as she could be, but Jean no longer responded to +her advances. When work kept him no longer at the factories he fled +from the house: sometimes to the country, where the first hay +harvest attracted all the life from the Alsatian farms. Sometimes he +would go and talk to his neighbours the Ramspachers, already his +friends, when at nightfall they came back from the plain; and there +he was led on by the hope that he should see the daughter of M. +Bastian walking along the path. But more often still he went up to +Heidenbruch. M. Ulrich had received his nephew's confidences and a +mission at the same time. Jean had said to him: + +"I have now no hope of winning Odile. My sister's marriage will +prevent mine. But in spite of that I am bound to ask for the hand of +her to whom I have confessed my love. I wish to be certain of what +is already breaking my heart, although I am only afraid of it. When +M. Bastian has heard that Lucienne is betrothed to Lieutenant von +Farnow or that she is going to be--and that will not be delayed if +grandfather gets better--you will go to M. Bastian. You will speak +to him on my behalf. He will answer you, knowing fully all the +facts; you will tell me if he refuses, once for all, his daughter to +the brother-in-law of von Farnow; or if he insists on some time of +probation--I will accept it, no matter how long it may be; or if he +has the courage--in which I do not believe--to pay no attention to +the scandal which my sister's marriage will cause." + +M. Ulrich had promised. + +Towards the middle of August the fever which was wearing out M. +Philippe Oberlé disappeared. Contrary to the expectation of the +doctor, his strength returned very quickly. It was soon certain that +the robust constitution of the invalid had got the better of the +crisis. And the truce accorded by M. Joseph Oberlé to his father had +come to an end. The old man, having recovered to that sad condition +of a sick man whom death does not desire, was going to be treated +like the others, and would not be spared. There was no fresh scene +between the sick man and his son. All went on quietly. On the 22nd +of August, after dinner in the drawing-room, where Victor had just +brought the coffee, the factory owner said to Madame Oberlé: + +"My father is now convalescent. There is no longer any reason to put +off the visit of Herr von Kassewitz. I give you notice, Monica, that +it will take place during the next few days. You would do well to +tell my father, since you alone go to him. And it is necessary that +everything should be done in order, without anything like surprise +or deception. Is that your opinion?" + +"You do not wish to put off this visit any longer?" + +"No." + +"Then I will tell him!" + +Jean wrote the same evening to Heidenbruch, where he was not able to +go. + +"My uncle, the visit is settled. My father makes no mystery about +it; not even before the servants. He evidently wishes that the +report of the marriage should be spread abroad. As soon as you hear +some one from Alsheim get indignant or sad about us, go and see, I +implore you, if the dream that I dreamed can still live on. You will +tell M. Bastian that it is the grandson of M. Philippe Oberlé who +loves Odile." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE HOP-PICKING + + +At the foot of Sainte Odile, a little below the vineyards in the +deep earth formed by gravel and leaves fallen from the mountain, M. +Bastian and other land-owners or farmers of Alsheim had planted +hop-fields. Now the time was come when the flower produces its +maximum of odorous pollen--a quickly passing hour difficult to +seize. + +The hop-planters appeared frequently in the hopfields. The brokers +went through the villages. One heard buyers and sellers discussing +the various merits of Wurtemburg hops and the Grand Duchy of Baden +hops, and of Bohemian and Alsatian hops. The newspapers began to +publish the first prices of the most famous home-grown: Hallertan, +Spalt, and Wolnzach. + +A Munich Jew had come to see M. Bastian on Sunday August 26, and had +said to him: + +"Wurtemburg is promising: Baden will have fine harvests: our own +country of Spalt, in Bavaria, has hops which are paying us one +hundred and sixty francs the fifty kilos, because they are rich +hops--they are as full of the yellow aromatic powder as a grape of +juice. Here you have been injured by the drought. But I can offer +you one hundred and twenty francs on condition that you pick them at +once. They are ripe." + +M. Bastian had given in, and had called together his daily +hop-pickers for August 28. That was also the day when the Count von +Kassewitz was to pay his visit to M. Joseph Oberlé. + +From dawn of a day already warmed by wafts of hot air, women had set +themselves to walk up what is called "the heights of Alsheim," the +region where the cultivated land, hollowed like a bow, will bear +hops. Some hundreds of yards from the border of the forest high +poles in battle array bore up the green tendrils. They looked like +very pointed tents of foliage, or belfries--for the millions of +little cones, formed of green scales sprinkled with pollen, swung +themselves from the extreme top to the ground like bells whose +ringer is the wind. All the inhabitants know the event of the +day--one picks hops for M. Bastian. The master, up before dawn, was +already in the hop-field, examining each foot, calculating the value +of his crop, pressing and crushing in his fingers one of the little +muslin-like pine cones whose perfume attracts the bees. At the back +on the stubble furrows are two narrow wagons, harnessed to a horse, +waiting for the harvest, and near them was Ramspacher the farmer, +his two sons Augustin and François, and a farm servant. The women, +on the direct road leading up there, came up in irregular bands, +three in file, then five abreast, then one following the others, the +only one who was old. Each one had put on a working dress of some +thin stuff, discoloured and the worse for wear, except, however, the +grocer's daughter, Ida, who wore a nearly new dress, blue with white +spots, and another elegant girl from Alsheim, Juliette, a brunette, +the daughter of the sacristan, and she had a fashionable bodice and +a checked apron, pink and white. The greater number were without +hats, and had only the shade of their hair, of every tint of +fairness, to preserve their complexions. They walked along quietly +and heavily. They were young and fresh. They laughed. The farm boy +mounted on a farm horse, going to the fields, the reapers, encamped +in a corner, and the motionless man with the scythe in the soft +lucerne turned their heads, and their eyes followed these women +workers, whom one did not generally see in the country: needlewomen, +dressmakers, apprentices, all going as if to a fête towards the +hop-field of M. Bastian. The vibration of words they could not hear +flew to them on the wind that dried the dew. The weather was fair. +Some old people, the pickers of fallen fruit beneath the scattered +apple- and walnut-trees, rose from their stooping posture, and +blinked their eyes to see the happy band of girls coming up the +forest road. These girls without baskets such as the bilberry and +whortleberry pickers, and raspberry gatherers had to carry. + +They went into the hop-field, which contained eight rows of hops and +disappeared as if in a gigantic vineyard. M. Bastian directed the +work, and pointed out that they must begin with the part touching +the road. Then the old farmer, his two sons and farm servant, seized +each of them one of the poles, heavy with the weight of harvest, the +tendrils, the little scaly bells, the leaves all trembled; and after +the women had knelt down and had cut the stalks even with the +ground, the loosened poles came out of the earth and were lowered +and despoiled of the climbing plants they had carried. + +Stalks, leaves, and flowers were thrown down and placed in heaps--to +be carried away by the wagons. The workers did not wait to pick the +hops which they would gather at Alsheim in the farmyard in the +afternoon. But, already covered with yellow powder and pieces of +leaves, the men and women were hurrying to strip the lowered poles. +The hops exhaled their bitter, healthy odour, and the humming of +the band of workers, like the noise of early vintage, spread out +over the immense stretch of country, striped with meadows, stubble, +and lucerne, and the open and fertile Alsatian land which the sun +was beginning to warm. + +This light, the repose of the night still neighbouring the day, the +full liberty which they did not enjoy every day of the week, the +instinctive coquetry evoked by the presence of the men, even the +desire of being pleasant to M. Bastian, whom they knew to be of a +gay disposition, made these girls and children who picked the hops +joyful with a boisterous joy. And one of the farm servants having +called out while his horses stopped to take breath: "Is no one +singing then?" the daughter of the sacristan, Juliette, with the +regular features and the beautiful deep eyes under her well combed +and nicely dressed hair, answered: + +"I know a lovely song." + +As she answered she looked at the owner of the property, who was +smoking, seated on the first row of stubble above the hop-field, and +who was contemplating with tenderness now his hops and now his +Alsace, where his mind always dwelt. + +"If it is pretty; sing it," said the master. "Is it a song that the +police may hear?" + +"Part of it." + +"Then turn round to the forest side: the police do not often go that +way because they find nothing to drink there." + +The workers who were stooping and those who were standing upright +laughed silently because of the detestation in which they held the +gendarmes. And the beautiful Juliette began to sing--of course in +Alsatian--one of those songs which poets compose who do not care to +sign their works, and who rhyme in contraband. + +The full, pure voice sang: + +"I have cut the hops of Alsace--they have grown on the soil we +tilled--the green hops are certainly ours--the red earth is also +ours." + +"Bravo!" said gravely M. Bastian's farmer. He took his pipe from his +mouth in order to hear better. + +"They have grown in the valley--in the valley where every one has +passed along, many sorts of people, and the wind, and also +anguish--we have chosen our own friends. + +"We will drink beer to the health of those who please us. We will +have no words on our lips--but we will have words in our +hearts--where no one can efface them." + +The heavy, solid heads, young and old, remained motionless for a +moment when Juliette had finished. They waited for the remainder. +The young girls smiled because of the voice and because of life. The +eyes of M. Bastian and the Ramspachers shone because of bygone days. +The two sons had grown grave. Juliette did not begin to sing again: +there was no more to follow. + +"I think I know the miller who composed that song," said M. Bastian. +"Come, my friends, hurry yourselves; there is the first cart +starting for Alsheim. All must be gathered and put in the +drying-house before night." + +Everybody except that big young François, who had to do his military +service in November, and who was driving the wagon, bent again over +the hop roots. But at the same moment, from the copse on the border +of the great forest, from among the shrubs and the clematis, which +made a silky fringe to the mountain forests, a man's voice answered. + +What was happening? Who had heard them? They thought they knew the +voice, which was strong and unequal, worn, but with touches of a +youthful quality; and whisperings arose. + +"It is he. He is not afraid!" + +The voice answered, in the same rugged tongue: + +"The black bow of the daughters of Alsace--has bound my heart with +sorrow--has bound my heart with joy. It is a knot of love. + +"The black bow of the daughters of Alsace--is a bird with great +wings. It can fly across the mountains--and look over them. + +"The black bow of the daughters of Alsace is a cross of mourning +which we carry in memory of all those--whose soul was like our own +soul." + +The voice had been recognised. When it had finished singing, the +hop-pickers, men and women, began to talk to M. Ulrich, who, barely +tolerated in Alsace, had nevertheless more freedom of language than +the Alsatians who were German subjects. The noise of laughter and +words exchanged grew louder and louder in the hop-field, so the +master withdrew. + +M. Bastian, with his heavy, sure step, mounted to the edge of the +forest whence came the voice, and plunged under the beeches. Some +one had seen him coming and waited for him. M. Ulrich Biehler, +seated on a rock starred with moss--bare headed, weary with having +walked in the sun--had hoped, by singing, to make his old friend +Xavier Bastian climb up to him. He was not mistaken. + +"I have a place for you here, hop-picker!" he cried from afar, +pointing to a large block of stone which had rolled to the foot of +the mountain, between two trees, and on which he was seated. + +Although they were friends, M. Ulrich and the Mayor of Alsheim saw +each other but seldom. There was between them less intimacy than a +community of opinions and of aspirations and of memories. They were +chosen friends, and old Alsace counted them among her faithful ones. +That was enough to make them feel the meeting was a happy one, and +to make the signal understood. M. Ulrich had said to himself that +M. Bastian having set the workers to work would not be sorry to have +a diversion. He had sung in answer to Juliette's song, and M. +Bastian had come. Now the pale, fine face of the hermit of +Heidenbruch reflected a mixture of pleasure in welcoming his friend +and an anxiety difficult to conceal. + +"You still sing?" said M. Bastian, pressing M. Ulrich's hand. "You +hunt, you run about the hills!" + +He sat down breathless on a stone, his feet in the ferns, and +looking towards the descending slopes wooded with oaks and beeches +and bushes. + +"That only in appearance. I am a walker, a forester, a wanderer. +You, on the contrary, are the least travelled of men. I visit--you +cultivate: these are at bottom two kinds of fidelities. Tell me, +Xavier, may I speak to you of something which I have very much at +heart?" + +The heavy face trembled, the thick lips moved, and one could see by +the great change which took place in M. Bastian's face how sensitive +he was. As he was of just as reticent a nature, he did not make any +reply. He waited. + +"I am going to tell you about something which touches me as nearly +as if it were a personal matter. He who begged me to see you is my +dearest relative. I take the direct method with you, Xavier. Have +you guessed that my nephew loves your daughter Odile?" + +"Yes." + +"Well?" + +Suddenly these two, who had been gazing into the distance for a +while, looked at each other eye to eye, and they were afraid, one +because of the refusal he read there--and the other because of the +pain he was going to give. + +"No!" said the voice, grown harsh in order to dominate its emotion, +which would have made it tremble. "I will not!" + +"I expected that; but if I tell you that they love each other?" + +"That may be. I cannot!" + +"You have some very serious reason then?" + +"Yes." + +"What is it?" + +M. Bastian pointed through the trees to the house of the Oberlés. + +"To-day, in that house, they are expecting the visit of the Prefect +of Strasburg." + +"I could not tell you, and I had to wait before speaking about it +till every one knew it." + +"It is public property now. All the town of Alsheim has been told by +the servants. They even say that M. von Kassewitz is coming to ask +for the hand of Lucienne for his nephew, Lieutenant von Farnow." + +"I know it!" + +"And you would have it so?" + +"Yes!" + +"That I should give my daughter to Jean Oberlé so that she should +have a father-in-law who will be a governmental candidate in the +coming elections and a brother-in-law who is a Prussian officer?" + +M. Ulrich kept calm under the indignant gaze of M. Bastian and +answered: + +"Yes; these are terrible things for him, but it is not Jean's fault. +Where will you find a man more worthy of you and of your daughter?" + +"What is he doing to oppose this marriage? He is here--his silence +gives consent. He is weak." + +M. Ulrich stopped him with a movement. + +"No; he is strong!" + +"Not like you--you who knew how to close your house." + +"My house belongs to me." + +"And I have the right to say 'Not like me!' All these young people +accept things too easily, my friend. I do not mix myself up with +politics. I keep silent. I plough my land. I am looked on with +suspicion by the peasants, who no doubt like me, but who begin to +find me 'compromising.' I am hated by Germans of every kind and +colour. But, as God hears me, that only makes me drive my roots +deeper in, and I do not change. I will die with all my old hatreds +intact--do you understand--intact?" + +His eyes had a gleam in them such as a sharpshooter has when, with +gun in hand, and sure that his hand will not tremble, he covers his +enemy. + +"You stand for something in this generation, Xavier; but you must +not be unjust. This man you refuse, because he is not like us, is +not the less valiant for that." + +"That has to be seen." + +"Has he not declared that he will not enter the Government employ?" + +"Because the country pleases him better--and my daughter pleases him +also!" + +"No; firstly because he is Alsatian." + +"Not like us, I will answer for that!" + +"In a new way. They are obliged to live in the midst of Germans. +Their education is carried out in German schools, and their way of +loving France leaves room for more honour and more strength of mind +than was necessary in our time. Think, it is thirty years ago!" + +"Alas!" + +"They saw nothing of those times, they have only a traditional love, +or a love which is of the imagination, or of family, and examples of +forgetfulness are frequent around them!" + +"Jean has had, in truth, examples of that sort." + +"That is why you ought to be more just to him. Think that your +daughter in marrying him will found here an Alsatian family--very +powerful, very wealthy. The officer will not live in Alsheim, nor +even long in Alsace. He will soon be only a name." + +M. Bastian placed his heavy hand on M. Ulrich's shoulder, and spoke +in a tone which did not allow the discussion to be continued. + +"Listen, my friend, I have only one word. It cannot be, because I +will not have that marriage: because all those of my generation, +dead and living, would reproach me. And then, even if I yielded, +Ulrich, there is a will near me stronger than mine, who will never +say yes, do you understand, never!" + +M. Bastian slipped down among the ferns, and shrugging his +shoulders, and shaking his head--like some one who will hear no +more--went downwards to his day workers. When he had passed between +the rows of the cut hops and reprimanded each of the workers, there +was no more laughing, and the girls of Alsheim, and the farmer's +sons, and the farmer himself, stooping under the burning sun, went +on in silence with their work, which had been so joyously begun. + +Already M. Ulrich was going up to his hermitage on Sainte Odile, +distressed, asking himself what serious effect the refusal of M. +Bastian was going to have on Jean's destiny, and anxious to tell his +nephew the news. Without hoping, without believing that there was +any chance of it, he would try to make Odile's father give way, and +plans hummed round him, like the gadflies in the pine woods, drunk +with the sun, and following the traveller in his lonely climb. The +streams were singing. There were flocks of thrushes, harbingers +crossing the ravines, darting through the blue air to get to the +vines and fruits of the plain. It was in vain--he was utterly +downcast. He could think of nothing but of his nephew, so badly +rewarded for his return to Alsheim. Between the trees and round the +branches he gazed at the house of the Oberlés. + +Any one going into that house just then would have found it +extraordinarily quiet. Every one there was suffering. M. Philippe +Oberlé, as usual had lunched in his room. Madame Oberlé, at the +express wish of her husband, had consented to come out of her room +when M. von Kassewitz should be announced. + +"All the same, I repeat," she said, "that I shall not go out of my +way to entertain him. I will be there because by your orders I am +bound to receive this person. But I shall not go beyond what is +strictly necessary." + +"Right," said M. Oberlé, "Lucienne, Jean, and I will talk to him. +That will suffice." + +And after his meal he had gone at once to his workroom, at the end +of the park. Jean, who had shown no enthusiasm, had gone out, for +his part, promising to return before three o'clock. Lucienne was +alone in the big yellow drawing-room. Very well dressed in a grey +princess dress, which had for its only ornament a belt buckle of two +shades of gold, like the decorations in the dining-room; she was +placing roses in crystal glasses and slender vases of transparent +porcelain, which contrasted well with the hard, definite colour of +the velvet furniture. Lucienne had the collectedness of a gambler +who sees a game coming to an end, and knows she has won. She had +herself, in two recent soirées at Strasburg carried the business +through, which now wanted only the signatures of the contracting +parties; the official candidature promised to M. Joseph Oberlé in +the first vacant district. + +The visit of M. von Kassewitz was equivalent to the signing of the +treaty. The opposing parties held their tongues, as Madame Oberlé +held hers, or stood aside in silent sulkiness, like the grandfather. +The young girl went from the mantelpiece to the gilt console, +surmounted by a mirror, in which she saw herself reflected, and she +thought the movement of her lips very pretty when she made them say +"Monsieur the Prefect!" One thing irritated her, and checked the +pride she felt in her victory: the absolute emptiness which was +making itself felt around her. + +Even the servants seemed to have made up their minds not to be there +when they were wanted. They did not answer the bell. After lunch M. +Joseph Oberlé had been obliged to go into the servants' hall to find +his father's valet, that good-tempered big Alsatian who looked upon +himself as being at the beck and call of every one. + +"Victor, you will put on your livery to receive the gentleman who +will come about three o'clock!" + +Victor had grown red and answered with difficulty: + +"Yes, sir!" + +"You must be careful to watch for the carriage, and to be at the +bottom of the steps----" + +"Yes, sir." + +Since this promise had been given, which no doubt went very much +against Victor's feelings--he had hid himself, and only came at the +third or fourth call, quite flustered and pretending that he had not +heard. + +The Prefect of Strasburg is coming. These words which Lucienne had +spoken, Madame Oberlé thought over shut up in her room. They +weighed, like a storm cloud, on the mind of the old protesting +representative of Alsace--that old forester, Philippe Oberlé, who +had given orders that he was to be left alone; they agitated the +nervous fingers of M. Joseph Oberlé, who was writing in his room at +the saw mills, and he left off writing in order to listen; they rang +sadly, like the passing bell of something noble in Jean's heart +taking refuge with the Bastians' farmer. They were the theme--the +_leitmotiv_ which recurred in twenty different ways, in the animated +and sarcastic conversation of the hop-pickers. + +For these women and girls of the farm, and the day labourers who had +worked in the morning in the hop-field, had assembled, since the +mid-day meal in the narrow, long yard of the Ramspachers' farm. +Seated on chairs or stools, each one having on their right a hamper +or a basket and on their left a heap of hops, they picked off the +flowers and threw away the stripped stalks. They formed two +lines--one along the stable walls and the other the length of the +house. This made an avenue of fair heads and bodies in movement +among the piles of leaves, which stretched from one woman to another +and bound them together as it were with a garland. At the end, the +cart door opened wide on to the square of the town of Alsheim, and +allowed the gables of several houses situated opposite to be +seen--with their wooden balconies and the flat tiles of their +roofings. By this road every half hour fresh loads of hops arrived +drawn by one of the farm horses. Old Ramspacher, the farmer, was at +his post, in the enormous barn in front of the dwelling-house, and +before which sat the first pickers, at work on the little hop cones. + +In this building, whose vast roof was supported by a wall on one +side, on the other by Vosges pines, the greater part of the work of +the farm was done, and much wealth was stored here. Here they trod +the grapes; in the autumn and winter months they threshed corn. They +kept all the implements of labour in the corner--the covered carts, +planks and building materials, empty barrels, and a little hay. +There were also many great wooden cases piled up, tiers of screens, +on which they put the hops to dry every year. The farmer never +allowed others to do this delicate work. So he was at his place, in +front of the drying-room, where the first shelves were already full, +and standing on a ladder he spread equal layers of the gathered +hops, which his sons brought him in hampers. + +The heat of the afternoon, at the end of August, the odour of +crushed leaves and flowers, which clung to their hands intoxicated +the women slightly. The laughter rose louder than in the hop-fields +in the morning, and questions were asked and remarks made which +called forth twenty answers. Sometimes it was the work which +furnished a pretext for this fusillade of words. Sometimes it was a +neighbour passing across the square all white with dust and +sunshine; but mostly the talk was about two things: the visit of the +Prefect and the probable marriage of Lucienne. + +The beautiful Juliette, the sacristan's daughter, had begun the +conversation saying: + +"I tell you Victor told it to the mason's son: the Prefect is to +arrive in half an hour. Do you think I shall move when he comes?" + +"He would see a very pretty girl," said Augustine Ramspacher, +lifting up two hampers of hops. "It is only the ugly ones who will +let themselves be seen." + +Ida, who had lifted up her blue-and-white-spotted dress, and then +Octavie the cow-woman, who wore her hair plaited and rolled like a +golden halo round her head, and Reine the daughter of the poor +tailor, and others answered together laughing: + +"I shall not be seen then. Nor I, nor I!" + +And an old woman's voice, the only old woman among them, muttered: + +"I know I am as poor as Peter and Paul, but I would rather that he +went to other folk's houses than to mine--the Prefect!" + +"Certainly." + +They were all speaking freely. Words re-echoed from the walls and +were lost amid bursts of laughter and the rustling of the broken and +crushed leaves. In the barn in the half light, seated on a pile of +beams, his chin in his hands, there was a witness who heard, and +that witness was Jean Oberlé. But the inhabitants of Alsheim began +to know the young man, who had lived among them for five months. +They knew he was a good Alsatian. On the present occasion they +guessed that Jean had taken refuge there with the Bastians' tenant +farmer because he disapproved the ambition to which his father was +sacrificing so many things and so many persons. He had come in, +under the pretext of resting and taking shelter from the sun; in +reality because the triumphant presence of Lucienne was torture to +him. And yet he knew nothing of the conversation which his uncle had +had in the morning with M. Bastian. The thought of Odile returned to +his unhappy mind and he drove it out that he might remain master of +himself, for soon he would require all his powers of judgment and +all his strength. At other moments he gazed vaguely at the +hop-pickers and tried to interest himself in their work and their +talk; often he thought he heard the sound of a carriage, and half +rising, he remembered the promise he had made, to be at home when M. +von Kassewitz arrived. + +Juliette's voice rose in decidedly spirited tones. + +"What does this Prefect of Strasburg want to come to Alsheim for? We +get on so well without the Germans." + +"They have sworn to make themselves hated," quickly added the +farmer's elder son, who was giving out the hops to the women who had +no more. "It seems that they are prohibiting the speaking of French +as much as they possibly can." + +"A proof--my cousin, François Joseph Steiger," said little Reine, +the tailor's daughter. "A gendarme said he had heard him shout 'Vive +la France!' in the inn. Those were, I believe, the only French words +my cousin knew. That was enough--my cousin got two months in +prison." + +"Your cousin called out more! But at Alberschweiler they have +forbidden a singing society to execute anything in the French +tongue." + +"And the French conjurer who came the other day to Strasburg? Do you +know? It was in the newspaper. They let him pay the tax, hire the +hall, print his advertisements, and then they said: 'You will do it +in German, my good friend--or you will go!'" + +"What happened to M. Haas, the house-painter, is much worse." + +"What then?" + +"He knew that he could not paint an inscription in French on a shop +any more. M. Haas would never--I know it--have painted a stroke of a +brush in contravention of the law. But he thought he could at least +put a coat of varnish on the sign he was painting, where he had +painted a long time ago the word '_Chemiserie_.' They made him +appear and threatened to take proceedings against him, because he +was preserving the inscription with his varnish. Why, that was last +October!" + +"Oh, oh, would not M. Hamm be pleased if the rain, the wind, and the +thunder threw down the sign of the inn here, which is called: 'Le +Pigeon blanc' as happened to 'La Cigogne.'" + +It was old Josephine the bilberry-picker who said to the farmer's +wife, who at this moment appeared on the threshold of her house: + +"Sad Alsace! How gay she was when we were young! Wasn't she, Madame +Ramspacher?" + +"Yes. Now--for nothing--evictions, lawsuits, and prison! The police +everywhere." + +"You had better keep silence!" said Ramspacher in a reproachful +tone. + +The younger son Francis took his mother's side. + +"There are no traitors here. And then, how can one keep silence? +They are too hard. That is why so many young men emigrate!" + +From his corner in the shadow, Jean looked at these young girls who +were listening--with flashing eyes, some motionless and erect, +others continuing to bend and rise over their work of stripping the +hop-plants. + +"Work then--instead of so much chattering!" said the master's voice. + +"One hundred and seventy unsubdued, and condemned by the tribunal at +Saverne, in a single day, last January," said Juliette with a laugh +that shook her hair. "One hundred and seventy!" + +Francis, the great careless boy, who was close by Jean Oberlé at +this moment, turned a basketful of hops on the shelf, and bending +towards him said: + +"It is at Grand Fontaine that one can easily get over the frontier," +he said in low tones. "The best crossing, Monsieur Oberlé, is +between Grande Fontaine and Les Minières. The frontier is opposite, +like a spur. That is the nearest part, but one has to take care of +the Forest Guard and the Custom officials. Often they stop people to +ask where they are going." + +Jean trembled. What did that mean? He began: + +"Why do you speak to...?" + +But the young peasant had turned away, and was going on with his +work. Doubtless he had spoken for himself. He had trusted his plan +to his melancholy and silent countryman, whom he would amuse, +astonish, or sympathise with. + +But Jean had been touched by this confidence. + +A clear voice called out: + +"There is the carriage coming into the town. It is going to pass M. +Bastian's avenue!" + +All the hop-pickers raised their heads. Little Franzele was standing +up near the pillar which kept the door open--leaning the top of her +body over the wall, her curly hair blown by the wind. She was +looking to the right, whence came the sound of wheels. In the yard +the women had stopped working. She murmured: + +"The Prefect, there he is--he is going to pass." + +The farmer, drawn from his work by the women's sudden silence as +much as by the child's voice, turned towards the yard where the +hop-pickers were listening motionless to the noise of the wheels and +the horses coming nearer. He commanded: + +"Shut the cart-door, Franzele!" + +He added, muttering: + +"I will not let him see how it is done here--in my place!" + +The little girl pushed-to one of the sides of the door, then +curious, having stuck her head out again: + +"Oh, how funny. Well, he cannot say that he saw many people. They +have not disturbed themselves much on his account! There are only +the German women of course. They are all there near 'la Cigogne.'" + +"Will you shut that door?" replied the farmer angrily. + +This time he was obeyed. The second side of the door shut quickly +against the first. The twenty persons present heard the noise of the +carriage rolling in the silence of the town of Alsheim. There were +eyes in all the shadowy corners behind the windows--but no one went +outside their doors, and in the gardens the men who were digging the +borders seemed so entirely absorbed in their work as to have heard +nothing. + +When the carriage was about fifty yards past the farm, their +imaginations were full of what it would be like at the Oberlés' +farther on at the other end of the village, and taking up a handful +of hop-stalks, the women and girls asked each other curiously what +the son of M. Oberlé was going to do--and they looked stealthily +towards the barn. He was no longer there. + +He had risen, that he might not break his word, and having run all +the way, and pale in spite of his having run, he arrived at the gate +of the kitchen garden at the very moment when the Prefect's +carriage, on the other side of the demesne, was passing through the +park gates. + +All the household was ready. Lucienne and Madame Oberlé were seated +near the mantelpiece. They did not speak to each other. The factory +owner, who had returned from his office half-an-hour ago, had put on +the coat he wore to go to Strasburg, and a white waistcoat--with his +arms behind his back he watched the carriage coming round the lawn. + +The programme was carried out according to the plans arranged by +him. The official personage who was just entering the grounds was +bringing to M. Oberlé the assurance of German favour. For a moment +of inflated pride which thrilled him M. Oberlé saw in imagination +the palace of the Reichstag. + +"Monica," he said, turning round as breathless as after a long walk, +"has your son returned?" + +Seated before him in the yellow chair near the fireplace, looking +very thin, her features drawn with emotion, Madame Oberlé answered: + +"He will be here because he said so!" + +"The fact that he is not here is more certain still. And Count +Kassewitz is coming--and Victor? I suppose he is at the steps to +show him in, as I told him?" + +"I suppose so." + +M. Joseph Oberlé, furious at the constraint of his wife--at her +disapproval, which he encountered even in this submission, crossed +the room and pulled the old bell rope violently, and opening the +door which led to the hall saw that Victor was not in his place. + +He had to draw back, for the sound of footsteps coming up were +mingled with the sound of the bell. + +M. Joseph Oberlé placed himself near the fireplace facing the +door--near his wife. Footsteps sounded on the gravel, on the granite +of the steps. However, some one had come in answer to the bell. The +door was pushed open the next moment and the Oberlés perceived at +the same time that the old cook Salomé, white as wax, her mouth set, +was opening the door without saying a word, and M. von Kassewitz +close behind her was coming in. + +He was very tall, very broad shouldered, and clad in a tight-fitting +frock-coat. His face was composed of two incongruous elements, a +round bulging forehead, round cheeks, a round nose, then standing +straight out from the skin in stiff locks, eyebrows, moustache, and +short, pointed beard. This face of a German soldier composed of +points and arches was animated by two piercing lively eyes, which +ought to have been blue--for his hair was yellow--but which never +showed clearly through the shadow of the spreading eyebrows, and +because of the man's habit of screwing up his eyelids. His hair, +sparse on the top, was brushed up well from the occiput to just +above the ears. + +M. Joseph Oberlé met him and spoke in German. + +"M. Prefect, we are very greatly honoured by this visit. Really to +have taken this trouble!" + +The official took the hand that M. Oberlé held out, and pressed it. +But he did not look at him and he did not stop. His steps sounded +heavily on the thick drawing-room carpet. He was looking at the thin +apparition in mourning near the fireplace. And the enormous man +bowed several times very stiffly. + +"The Count von Kassewitz," said M. Oberlé--for the Prefect had never +been introduced to the mistress of the house. + +She made a slight movement of the head and said nothing. M. von +Kassewitz drew himself up, waited a second, then playing his part +and affecting good humour, which perhaps he did not feel, he greeted +Lucienne, who had blushed, and was smiling. + +"I remember having seen Mademoiselle at His Excellency the +Statthalter's," he said. "And truly Strasburg is some distance from +Alsheim. But I am of the opinion that there are some wonders which +are better worth the journey than the ruins in the Vosges, M. +Oberlé." + +He laughed with a satisfied air, and sat on the yellow couch with +his back to the light, facing the fireplace. Then turning to the +factory owner, who was seated near him he asked: + +"Is your son away?" + +M. Oberlé had been listening anxiously for a minute. He was able to +say: + +"Here he is." + +The young man came in. The first person he saw was his mother. That +made him hesitate. His eyes, young and impressionable, gave a +nervous twitch as if they were hurt. Quickly he turned to the sofa, +took the hand which the visitor offered him, and gravely but less +embarrassed than his father, and with greater coolness he said in +French: + +"I have just been for a walk. I had to run not to be late, for I +promised my father I would be here when you came." + +"You are too kind," said the official, laughing. "We speak German +with your father, but I am able to carry on a conversation in +another tongue besides our national language." + +He went on in French, laying stress on the first syllables of the +words. + +"I admired your park, Monsieur Oberlé, and even all the little +country of Alsheim. It is very pretty. You are surrounded, I +believe, by a refractory population--almost invisible; in any case, +just now as I came through the village I hardly saw a living soul." + +"They are in the fields," said Madame Oberlé. + +"Who is the Mayor, then?" + +"M. Bastian." + +"I remember them: a family very much behind the times." + +His look was questioning, and he moved his heavy head towards the +two women and Jean. Three answers came at once. + +"Behind the times, yes," said Lucienne--"they are, but such good +people." + +"They are simply old-fashioned folk," said Madame Oberlé. + +Jean said: + +"Above all very worthy." + +"Yes, I know what that means." + +The Prefect made an evasive gesture. + +"Well, provided they go straight." + +The father saved the situation. + +"We have but few interesting things to show you, but perhaps you +would like to see my works? They are full and animated, I assure +you. There are one hundred workmen, and machines at work--pines +sixty feet long under the branches, are reduced in three minutes to +planks, or cut up as rafters. Would you care to see them?" + +"Yes, certainly." + +The conversation, thus turned in another direction at once became +less constrained. The origin of the Oberlés' works, the Vosges +woods, the comparison between the German manner of felling, by the +Government, and the French system, by which the owners of a portion +of a forest may fell the trees themselves under the supervision of +the foresters--all these questions gave each a chance to speak. +Lucienne became lively, Madame Oberlé, questioned by her husband, +answered. Jean also spoke. The functionary congratulated himself on +having come. + +When her father made a sign, Lucienne rose, to ring for the footman +and to ask that some refreshment might be served. But she had not +time to make a single step. + +The door opened, and Victor, the servant who had not been at his +post a short time ago, appeared, very red, very embarrassed, and +lowering his eyes. On his left arm, holding himself as erect as +possible, was the grandfather, M. Philippe Oberlé. + +The five persons talking were all standing. The servant stopped at +the door and withdrew. The old man came in alone, leaning on his +stick. M. Philippe Oberlé had put on his best clothes belonging to +the time when he was in good health. He wore, unbuttoned, the +frock-coat which was still decorated by the ribbon of the Legion of +Honour. Intense feeling had transfigured him. One would have said +that he was twenty years younger. He came forward taking short +steps--his body bent a little forward, but his head held stiffly +erect, and he looked at one man only, the German official standing +by the side of the couch. His heavy jaw trembled and moved +convulsively as if he were articulating words they could not hear. + +Was M. Joseph Oberlé mistaken, or did he wish to put him on the +wrong scent? He turned to where M. von Kassewitz was standing, +astonished and on his guard, and said: + +"My father has surprised us by coming down. I never expected he +would take part in this." + +The eyes of the old deputy, rigid under their heavy lids, did not +cease looking at the German, who kept his countenance and remained +silent. When M. Philippe Oberlé was three feet from M. von Kassewitz +he stopped. With his left hand, which was free, he then drew his +slate from the pocket of his frock-coat, and held it out to the +Count von Kassewitz: on it two lines were written. The Count bent +forward and then drew himself up haughtily. + +"Sir!" + +Already M. Joseph Oberlé had seized the thin sheet of slate, and +read these words, traced with remarkable decision: + +"I am in my own house, sir!" + +The eyes of the old Alsatian added: + +"Leave my house!" and they were no longer looking down, nor did they +leave the enemy. + +"This is too much!" said M. Joseph Oberlé. "Father, how could you +come downstairs to insult my guests? You will excuse him, sir; my +father is old, over-excited, a little touched by age." + +"If you were younger, sir," said M. von Kassewitz in his turn, "we +should not stop at this. You will do well to remember that you are +also in my home, in Germany, on German territory, and that it is not +well even at your age to insult authority." + +"Father," said Madame Oberlé, hastening to the old man to support +him, "I beg of you--you are doing harm to yourself--this emotion is +too much for you." + +An extraordinary thing happened. M. Philippe Oberlé, in his violent +anger, had found strength to stand upright. He appeared gigantic. He +was as tall as M. von Kassewitz. The veins on his temples +swelled--the blood was in his cheeks, and his eyes were living once +more. And at the same time the half-dead body was trembling and +using up in involuntary movements its fragile and factitious life. +He signed to Madame Oberlé to stand aside, and not to hold him up. + +Lucienne, grown pale, shrugged her shoulders and went towards M. von +Kassewitz. + +"It is only an act in one of our family tragedies, monsieur. Do not +take any notice of it and come to the works with us. Let me pass, +grandfather." + +The Count took no notice, and she passed out between M. Philippe +Oberlé and the functionary who said: + +"You are not responsible, mademoiselle, for the insult that has been +offered to me. I understand the situation--I understand." + +His voice came with difficulty from his contracted throat. +Furious--half a head taller than any one there except M. Philippe +Oberlé--M. von Kassewitz turned on his heel and went towards the +door. + +"Come, I pray you," said M. Joseph Oberlé, standing aside to let the +Prefect pass. + +Lucienne was already outside. Madame Oberlé, as ill from emotion as +the old man, who refused her assistance, feeling her tears choke +her, ran into the hall and up to her room, where she burst into +sobs. + +In the drawing-room Jean was alone with the old chief, who had just +driven out the stranger. He drew near and said: + +"Grandfather, what have you done?" + +He wanted to say: It is a terrible insult. My father will never +forgive it. The family is completely broken up. He would have said +all that. But he raised his eyes to the old fighter, so near the +end, still showing fight. He saw now that the grandfather was gazing +fixedly at him; that his anger had reached its height; that his +chest was moving violently; that the face grimaced and twisted. And +suddenly, in the yellow drawing-room, an extraordinary voice, a +hoarse voice, powerful and husky, cried out in a kind of nervous +gallop: + +"Go away! Go away! Go away! Go away!" + +The voice rose to a piercing note. Then it broke, and with his mouth +still open, the old man reeled and fell on the floor. The voice had +sounded to the inmost recesses of the house. This voice that no one +ever heard now, Madame Oberlé had recognised it, and through the +open door of her room she had been able to catch the words. It was +only a cry of rage and suffering, or the contrary to M. Joseph +Oberlé, when the terrible sound of the words, which could not be +distinguished or guessed at, reached him down two-thirds of the +garden path. He had turned for a moment, with a frown--while the +foremen and German workmen of the factory greeted M. von Kassewitz +with their cheers--then he went on towards them. + +Madame Oberlé was the first to run to the drawing-room, then Victor, +then old Salome, as white as a sheet, crying with uplifted hands: + +"Was not that M. Philippe I heard?" + +Then the coachman and the gardener ran in, hesitating to come +forward but curious to see this distressing scene. They found Jean +and his mother kneeling near M. Philippe Oberlé, who was breathing +with difficulty, and was in a state of complete prostration. His +effort, his emotion, and his indignation had used up the strength of +the old man. They raised him up, and sat him in a chair, and each +one tried to revive him. For a quarter of an hour there was going +and coming between the first floor and the dining-room. They fetched +vinegar, salts, and ether. + +"I was afraid that master would have an attack; he has been beside +himself all the morning. Ah, there he is moving his eyes a little. +His hands are not so cold. + +Across the park there came a cry of "Long live the Prefect!" It +entered the drawing-room wafted on the warm breeze, where such words +had never been heard before. M. Philippe Oberlé did not seem to hear +them. But after some minutes he made a sign that he wished to be +taken to his room. + +Some one came up the steps quickly, and before coming in asked: + +"What, again! What are those cries? Ah! my father!" + +He changed his tone and said: + +"I thought it was you, Monica--that you had a nervous attack. But +then who screamed like that?" + +"He!" + +"He?" said M. Oberlé; "that is not possible!" + +He did not dare to ask the question again. His father, now standing, +supported by Jean and by his servant, trembling and wavering, moved +across the room. + +"Jean," said Madame Oberlé, "see to everything. Do not leave your +grandfather; I am coming up." + +Her husband had kept her back. She wished to get Jean away from +this. As soon as she was alone with M. Oberlé on the staircase they +heard the noise of footsteps and the rustling of materials, and +voices saying: + +"Hold him up--take care in turning." + +"What did he call out?" asked M. Oberlé. + +"He called out: 'Go away! Go away!' Those are words that he often +uses, you know." + +"The only ones he had at his disposal to show his hatred. Did he say +nothing else?" + +"No. I came down at once and I found him on the floor. Jean was near +him." + +"Happily M. von Kassewitz did not witness this second act. The first +was enough. In truth, the whole household was leagued together to +make this visit--such an honour for us--an occasion of offence and +scandal: my father; Victor, who was not ashamed to be an accomplice +of the delirious old man; Jean, who was impertinent; you----" + +"I did not think you could have had to complain of me!" + +"Of you the very first! It is you who are the soul of this +resistance, which I _will_ overcome. I shall overcome it! I answer +for that." + +"My poor friend," she said, clasping her hands; "you are still set +on that!" + +"Exactly." + +"You cannot overcome everything, alas!" + +"That is what we are going to see." + +Madame Oberlé did not answer and went upstairs quickly. A new +anxiety, stronger than the fear of her husband's threats, tortured +her now. + +"What did my father-in-law wish to say?" she asked herself. "The +old man is not delirious. He remembers; he foresees; he watches over +the house; he always thinks things out carefully. If only Jean did +not understand it as I understand it!" + +At the top of the stairs she met her son, who was coming out of the +grandfather's room. + +"Well?" + +"Nothing serious, I hope--he is better--he wishes to be alone." + +"And you?" questioned the mother, taking her son's hand, and leading +him towards the room he used. "And you?" + +"How? I?" + +When he had shut the door behind her, she placed herself before him, +and her face quite white in the light of the window, her eyes fixed +on the eyes of her child: + +"You quite understood--did you not--what grandfather wished to say?" + +"Yes." + +She tried to smile, and it was heart-breaking to see this effort of +a tortured soul. + +"Yes. He cried: 'Go away!' It is a word he often used to say to +strangers. He was addressing M. von Kassewitz. You do not think so?" + +Jean shook his head. + +"But, my darling, he could not 'address others so!'" + +"Pardon; he meant it for me." + +"You are mad! You are the best friends in the world, you and your +grandfather." + +"Just so." + +"He did not wish to turn you out of the room?" + +"No." + +"Then?" + +"He was ordering me to leave the house." + +"Jean!" + +"And for all that, the poor man was delighted to see me come back to +it." + +Jean would not look at his mother now, because tears had gushed from +Madame Oberlé's eyes, because she had come close to him, because she +had taken his hands. + +"No, Jean, no; he could not have meant that, I assure you; you do +not understand. In any case, you will not do it! Say that you will +never do it." + +She waited for the answer, which did not come. + +"Jean, for pity's sake answer me! Promise me that you will not leave +us! Oh! what would the house be without my son now? I have only +you--you do not think I am miserable enough then? Jean, look at me!" + +He could not wholly resist her. She saw the eyes of her son looking +at her tenderly. + +"I love you with all my heart," said Jean. + +"I know it; but do not go away!" + +"I pity you and respect you." + +"Do not go away!" + +And as he said no more she moved away. + +"You will promise nothing. You are hard--you also are like----" + +She was going to say "Like your father." + +Jean thought: "I can give her some weeks of peace; I owe them to +her." And trying to smile in his turn said: + +"I promise you, mamma, to be at St. Nicholas's Barracks on October +1st--I promise you. Are you pleased?" + +She shook her head. But he, kissing her on the brow, not wishing to +say anything more, left her in haste. + + * * * * * + +The town of Alsheim was occupying itself with the scene which had +taken place at M. Oberlé's. Through the torrid evening heat, amidst +the fertile dust of the cut wheat, of the pollen of flowers, of +dried moss which was blown from one field to another, the men came +home on foot; the children and young people came on horseback, and +the tails of the horses were gold, or silver, or black, or +fire-coloured in the burning light which the setting sun cast over +the shoulder of the Vosges. Women were waiting for their husbands on +the thresholds, and when they drew near, went to meet them in their +haste to spread such important news. + +"You do not know what has happened at the works. They will speak +about it for a long time! It seems that old M. Philippe found his +voice in his anger, and that he drove the Prussian out!" + +Many of the peasants said: + +"You will speak of that at home, wife, when the door is shut!" + +Many remarked with anxiety the agitation of their neighbours, and +said: + +"This will end in a visit from the gendarmes!" + +At M. Bastian's farm the women and young girls were finishing their +hop-picking. They were chattering, still laughing, or anxious, +according to their age. The farmer had forbidden them to reopen the +door looking on to the village street. He went on, always prudent in +spite of his seeming joviality, to spread out the baskets of hop +flowers, shining with fresh pollen. The oxen and the horses, passing +near the yard, breathed in the air and stretched their necks. + +And one at a time the women got up, shook their aprons, and weary, +stretched their youthful arms, yawning at the freshness of the cool +puffs of air which came over the roof, then started on their more or +less distant way to home and supper. + +At the Oberlés' house the dinner-bell rang. The meal was the +shortest and the least gay that the wainscoting and delicately +tinted paintings had ever witnessed. + +Very few words were exchanged. + +Lucienne was thinking of the new difficulty in the way of her +projected marriage and of the violent irritation of M. von +Kassewitz; Jean, of the hell that this house of the family had +become; M. Oberlé, of his ambitions probably ruined; Madame Monica, +of the possible departure of her son. Towards the end of dinner, at +the moment when the servant was about to withdraw, M. Oberlé began +to say, as if he were continuing a conversation: + +"I am not accustomed, you know, my dear, to give in to violence: it +exasperates me, that is all. I am then resolved to do two +things--first to build another house in the timber-yard, where I +shall be in my own home, then to hasten on Lucienne's marriage with +Lieutenant von Farnow. Neither you nor my father nor any one can +stop me. And I have just written to him about it." + +M. Oberlé looked at each of them--his wife, son, and daughter--with +the same expression of defiance. He added: + +"These young people must be allowed to see each other and to talk to +each other freely, betrothed as they are." + +"Oh," said Madame Oberlé, "such things----" + +"They are so!" he answered, "by my will, and dating from this +evening. Nothing will alter it, nothing. I cannot let them meet +here, unfortunately. My father would plan some fresh scandal--or +you," and he pointed to his son; "or you," and he pointed to his +wife. + +"You are mistaken," said Madame Oberlé. "I suffer cruelly on account +of this arrangement, but I shall make no scandal which will nullify +what you have decided upon." + +"Then," said M. Oberlé, "you have the chance to prove your words. I +was not going to ask you to do anything, and I had decided to take +Lucienne to Strasburg to the house of a third person, who would +have let them meet in her drawing-room." + +"I have never deserved that." + +"Will you then agree to accompany your daughter?" + +She thought for a moment, shut her eyes, and said: + +"Certainly." + +There was a look of surprise in her husband's eyes, and in Jean's, +and also in Lucienne's. + +"I shall be delighted; for my arrangement did not quite suit my +fancy. It is more natural that you should take your daughter. But +what rendezvous do you intend to choose?" + +Madame Monica answered: + +"My house at Obernai." + +A movement of stupefaction made the father and son both straighten +themselves. The house at Obernai? The home of the Biehlers? The son +at least understood the sacrifice which the mother was making, and +he rose and kissed her tenderly. + +M. Oberlé himself said: + +"That is right, Monica--very right. And when will it be convenient +to you?" + +"Just the time to let M. de Farnow know about it. You will fix the +day and the hour--write to him when he answers you." + +Lucienne, in spite of her want of tenderness, drew closer to her +mother that evening. In the little drawing-room, where she worked at +crochet for two hours, she sat near Madame Oberlé, and with her +watchful eyes she followed, or tried to follow, the thoughts on the +lined face so mobile and still so expressive. But often one can only +partly read what is passing in a mind. Neither Lucienne nor Jean +guessed the reason which had so quickly prompted Madame Oberlé's act +of self-sacrifice. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE RAMPARTS OF OBERNAI + + +Ten days later, Lucienne and her mother had just entered the family +house where Madame Oberlé had spent all her childhood, the home of +the Biehlers, which lifted its three stories of windows with little +green panes, and its fortified gable above the ramparts of Obernai, +between two houses of the sixteenth century--just like it. + +Madame Oberlé had gone upstairs, saying to the caretaker: + +"You will receive a gentleman presently who will ask for me." + +In the large room on the first floor which she entered, one of the +few rooms which were still furnished, she had seen her parents live +and die; the walnut-wood bed, the brown porcelain stove, the chairs +covered with woollen velvet which repeated on every seat and every +back the same basket of flowers, the crucifix framed under raised +glass, the two views of Italy brought back from a journey in 1837, +all remained in the same places and in the same order as in the old +days. Instinctively in crossing the threshold she sought the holy +water stoup hanging near the lintel, where the old people, when they +went into the room, moistened their fingers as on the threshold of a +holy abode. + +The two women went towards the window. Madame Oberlé wore the same +black dress she had put on to receive the Prefect of Strasburg. +Lucienne had put on a large brimmed hat of grey straw, trimmed with +feathers of the same shade, as if to cover her fair hair with a veil +of shadow. Her mother thought her beautiful--and did not say so. She +would have hastened to say so if the betrothed had not been he whom +they expected, and if the sight of the house, and the memory of the +good Alsatian folk who had lived in it, had not made the pain she +already felt greater. + +She leant against the windows and looked down into the garden full +of box-trees clipped into rounded shapes, and flower borders +outlined by box, and the winding, narrow paths where she had played, +grown up, and dreamed. Beyond the garden there was a walk made on +the town ramparts, and between the chestnuts planted there one could +see the blue plain. + +Lucienne, who had not spoken since the arrival at Obernai, guessing +that she would have disturbed a being who was asking herself whether +she could continue and complete her sacrifice, came quite close to +her mother, and with that intelligence which always took everyone's +fancy the first time they heard it, but less the second time: + +"You must suffer, mamma," she said. "With your ideas, what you are +doing is almost heroic!" + +The mother did not look up, but her eyelids fluttered more, and +quickly. + +"You are doing it as a wifely duty, and because of that I admire +you. I do not believe I could do what you are doing--give up my +individuality to such an extent." + +She did not think she was being cruel. + +"And you wish to be married?" asked the mother, raising her head +quickly. + +"Why, yes; but we do not now look upon marriage quite as you do." + +The mother saw from Lucienne's smile that she would be contending +with a fixed idea, and she felt that the hour for discussion was +badly chosen. She kept silence. + +"I am grateful to you," continued the young girl. Then after a +moment of hesitation: + +"Nevertheless, you had another reason besides obeying my father when +you agreed to come here--here to receive M. von Farnow." + +She let her eyes wander round the room, and brought them back to the +woman with smooth hair--that worn-out and suffering woman--who was +her mother. There was no hesitation. + +"Yes," she said. + +"I was sure of it. Can you tell me what it is?" + +"Presently." + +"Before M. von Farnow?" + +"Yes." + +Keen annoyance changed the expression of Lucienne's face; it grew +hard. + +"Although we do not agree with each other very well, surely you are +not capable of trying to turn my betrothed against me?" + +Tears appeared in the corners of Madame Oberlé's eyelids. + +"Oh Lucienne!" + +"No, I do not believe it. It is something important?" + +"Yes." + +"Does it concern me?" + +"No; not you." + +The young girl opened her mouth to continue, then listened, became a +little pale, and turned completely towards the door, while her +mother turned only half-round in the same direction. Some one was +coming upstairs. Wilhelm von Farnow, preceded by the caretaker, who +accompanied him only as far as the landing, saw Madame Oberlé +through the opening of the door, and as if on a military parade, he +drew himself up and crossed the room quickly, and bowed his haughty +head first to the mother, then to the young girl. + +He was extremely well dressed in civilian clothes. His face was +drawn and pallid with emotion. He said gravely in French: + +"I thank you, madame!" + +Then he looked at Lucienne, and in his unsmiling blue eyes there was +a gleam of proud joy. + +The young girl smiled. + +Madame Oberlé felt a shudder of aversion, which she tried to +repress. She looked straight into the steel-blue eyes of Wilhelm von +Farnow, who stood motionless in the same attitude he would have +taken under arms and before some great chief. + +"You must not thank me. I play no part in what is happening. My +husband and my daughter have decided everything." + +He bowed again. + +"If I were free I should refuse your race, your religion, your +army--which are not mine. You see I speak to you frankly. I am +determined to tell you that you owe me nothing, but also that I +harbour no unjust animosity against you. I even believe that you are +a very good soldier and an estimable man. I am so convinced of it +that I am going to confide to you an anxiety which tortures me." + +She hesitated a moment and continued: + +"We had at Alsheim a terrible scene when Count Kassewitz came to the +house." + +"Count Kassewitz told me about it, madame. He even advised me to +give up the idea of marrying your daughter. But I shall not do that. +To make me give her up nothing short of----" + +He began to laugh-- + +"Nothing short of an order from the Emperor would make me! I am a +good German, as you say. I do not easily give up what I have won. +And Count Kassewitz is only my uncle." + +"What you do not know is that my father-in-law, for the first time +for many, many years, in his exasperation, in the excess of his +grief, has spoken. He cried out to Jean: 'Go away! Go away!' I heard +the words. I ran quickly. Well, sir, what moved me most was not +seeing M. Philippe Oberlé senseless, stretched upon the floor; it +was my son's expression, and it is my conviction that at that moment +he resolved to obey and to leave Alsace." + +"Oh," said Farnow, "that would be bad." + +He cast a glance at the fair Lucienne, and saw that she was shaking +her blond head in sign of denial. + +"Yes, bad," continued the mother without understanding in what sense +Farnow used the word. "What an old age for me in my divided +house--without my daughter, whom you are going to take away; without +my son, who will have gone away. You are astonished, perhaps, that I +should tell you an anxiety of this sort?" + +He made a gesture which might mean anything. + +"It is because," the mother continued more quickly, "I have no one +to advise me; no help to hope for--under the circumstances. +Understand clearly. To whom shall I go? To my husband? He would be +furious? He would start to work and we should find that by his +influence Jean would be incorporated in a German regiment in a +week's time--away in the north or the east. My brother? He would +rather insist on my son leaving Alsace. You see, monsieur, you are +the only one who can do anything." + +"What exactly?" + +"But much. Jean has promised me that he will join the regiment. You +can arrange that he shall be received and welcomed, and not +discouraged. You can assure him protection, society, comrades--you +have known him a long time. You can prevent his giving way to +melancholy ideas, and stop him if he were again tempted to carry out +such a plan." + +The lieutenant, much disturbed, frowned, and the expression of his +face changed at the last words. Then he said: + +"Up to the first of October you have your son's promise--after that +I will look after him." + +Then speaking to himself, and again occupied with an idea, which he +did not express entirely: + +"Yes," he said, "very bad--it must not be." + +Lucienne heard it. + +"So much the worse," said she. "I betray my brother's secret, but he +will forgive me when he knows that I betrayed him to calm mamma. You +can be easy, mamma, Jean will not leave Alsace." + +"Because?" + +"He loves." + +"Where then?" + +"At Alsheim!" + +"Whom?" + +"Odile Bastian." + +Madame Oberlé asked absolutely amazed: + +"Is it true?" + +"As true as we are here. He told me everything." + +The mother closed her eyes, and, choking with halting breath: + +"God be praised. A little hope rises in my heart. Let me cry--indeed +I must!" + +She pointed to the room, which was also open on the other side of +the landing and was lighted by a large bay window, through which a +tree could be seen. + +Farnow bowed, showing Lucienne that he was following her. + +And the girl moved on ahead, passing through the room where her +ancestors had loved Alsace so much. + +Madame Oberlé turned away; sitting near the window she leaned her +head against the panes where as a child she had seen the sleet and +the ice form into ferns, and the sun, and the rain, and the +vibrating airs of summer-time, and all the land of Alsace. + +"Odile Bastian! Odile!" repeated the poor woman. The bright face, +the smile, the dresses of the young girl, the corner of Alsheim +where she lived--a whole poem of beauty and moral health rose in the +mother's mind; and with an effort she held to it jealously, in order +to forget the other love-affair on account of which she had come +here. + +"Why did not Jean confide in me?" she thought. "This is a kind of +compensation for the other. It reassures me. Jean will not leave us, +since the strongest of ties binds him to the country. Perhaps we +shall succeed in overcoming my husband's obstinacy. I will make him +see that the sacrifice we are making, Jean and I, in accepting this +German----" + +Meanwhile laughter came from the next room, unfurnished except for +the two chairs on which Lucienne and Farnow were sitting. Lucienne, +with an elbow on the balustrade of the open window, the lieutenant a +little behind gazing at her, and speaking with an extraordinary +fervour; sometimes there was laughter. This laughter hurt Madame +Oberlé, but she did not turn round. She still saw in the changing +blue of the Alsatian fields the consoling image evoked by Lucienne. + +Wilhelm von Farnow was speaking during this time, and was using to +the best advantage this hour, which he knew would be short, in which +he was permitted to learn to know Lucienne. She was listening to him +as if dreaming, looking out across the roofs, but really attentive, +and accentuating her answers with a smile and a little grimace. The +German said: + +"You are a glorious conquest. You will be a queen among the officers +of my regiment, and already there is a woman of French family, but +born in Austria, and she is ugly. There is an Italian, and some +Germans, and some Englishwomen. You unite in yourself all their +separate gifts--beauty, wit, brilliancy, German culture, and French +spontaneity. As soon as we are married I shall present you in the +highest German society. How did you develop in Alsheim?" + +Her nature was still proud rather than tender, and these flatteries +pleased her. + + * * * * * + +At this hour, profiting by the absence of M. Joseph Oberlé at Barr, +M. Ulrich had gone up to see his nephew Jean. The days were drawing +near when the young man would go to the barracks. It was necessary +to tell him about the unsuccessful meeting with Odile Bastian's +father. M. Ulrich, after having hesitated a long time, finding it +harder to destroy young love than to start for a war, went to see +his nephew and told him everything. + +They talked for an hour, or rather the uncle talked in monologue, +and tried to console Jean, who had let him see his grief, and had +wept bitterly. + +"Weep, my dear boy," said the uncle. "At this moment your mother is +assisting at the first interview between Lucienne and the other. I +confess I do not understand her. Weep, but don't let yourself be +cast down. To-morrow you must be brave. Think, in three weeks you +will be in the barracks. They must not see you crying. Well, the +year will soon pass, and you will come back to us--and who knows?" + +Jean passed his hand over his eyes and said resolutely: + +"No, uncle." + +"Why not?" + +At the same place where in the preceding winter the two men had +talked so joyously of the future, they were once more seated at the +two ends of the sofa. + +Outside, daylight was fading away and the air was warm. M. Ulrich +found suddenly on Jean's sorrowful face the energetic expression +which had so forcibly struck him on the former occasion, and had so +delighted him. The Vosges-coloured eyes, with brows close together, +were full of changing gleams of light, and yet the eyes were steady. + +"No," said Jean; "it is necessary that you should know--you and one +other to whom I will tell it. I shall not do my military service +here." + +"Where will you do it?" + +"In France." + +"How can you say that? Are you serious?" + +"As serious as it is possible to be." + +"And you go away at once?" + +"No; after I have joined the corps." + +M. Ulrich lifted his hands: + +"But you are mad. It will be the most difficult and most dangerous +thing to do. You are mad!" + +He began to walk up and down the room--from the window to the wall. +His emotion found vent in emphatic gestures, but he took care to +speak gently for fear of being heard by the people of the house. + +"Why after? For, after all, that is the first thing that comes into +my mind in face of such an idea, and why?" + +"I had intended to go away before joining the regiment," said the +young man quietly. "But mamma guessed at something. She made me +swear that I would join. So I shall join. Do not try to dissuade me. +It is unreasonable, but I promised." + +M. Ulrich shrugged his shoulders. + +"Yes; the question of time is a serious point, but it is not only +that. The serious thing is the resolution. Who made you take it? Is +it because your grandfather called out 'Go away!' that you have +decided to go?" + +"No; he thought as I think, that is all." + +"Is it the refusal of my friend Bastian which decided you?" + +"Not more than the other. If he had said yes I should have had to +tell him what I have told you this evening--I will live neither in +Germany nor in Alsace." + +"Then your sister's marriage?" + +"Yes; that blow alone would have been enough to drive me away. What +would my life be like at Alsheim now? Have you thought about that?" + +"Be careful, Jean. You forsake your post as an Alsatian!" + +"No; I can do nothing for Alsace! I could never gain the confidence +of Alsatians now: with my father compromised, and my sister married +to a Prussian." + +"They will say you deserted!" + +"Let them come to tell me so then, when I shall be serving with my +regiment in France!" + +"And your mother--you are going to leave your mother alone here?" + +"That is the great objection, after all, the only great one, for the +present, but my mother cannot ask me to let my life be sacrificed +and made useless as hers has been. Her next feeling later on will be +one of approval, because I have freed myself from the intolerable +yoke which has lain so heavily on her. Yes, she will forgive me. And +then----" + +Jean pointed to the jagged green mountains. + +"And then, there is dear France, as you say. It is she who attracts +me. It is she who spoke to me first!" + +"You child!" cried M. Ulrich. + +He placed himself before the young man, who remained seated, and who +was almost smiling. + +"A nation must be fine indeed who, after thirty years, can evoke +such a love as yours! Where are the people one would regret in the +same way? Oh! blessed race which speaks again in you!" + +He stopped a moment. + +"However, I cannot leave you in ignorance of the kind of +difficulties and disillusions you are going to encounter. It is my +duty. Jean, my Jean, when you have passed the frontier and claimed +the qualification of Frenchman according to the law, and finished +your year's military service.--What will you do?" + +"I shall always be able to earn my bread." + +"Do not count too much on that. Do not think that the French will +welcome you with favour because you are Alsatian. They have perhaps +forgotten that we----In any case, they are like those who owe a +very old pension. Do not imagine that they will help you over there +more than any one else." + +His nephew interrupted him: + +"My mind is made up--whatever happens. Do not speak to me about it +any more, will you?" + +Then Uncle Ulrich--who was caressing his grey, pointed beard as if +to get out his words spoken against the dear land, words that were +coming out with such difficulty--was silent, and looked at his +nephew a long time with his smile of complicity, which grew and +spread. And he finished by saying: + +"Now that I have done my duty and have not succeeded, I have the +right to acknowledge, Jean, that sometimes I had this same idea. +What would you say if I followed you to France?" + +"You?" + +"Not immediately. The only interest I had in living here was in +seeing you growing up and continuing the tradition. That is all +shattered. Do you know what will be one of the best means of +insuring yourself against a cold welcome?" + +Jean was too agitated by the gravity of the immediate resolution to +take up time in talking about future plans. + +"Listen, Uncle Ulrich, in a few days I shall want you. I have told +you about my decision precisely that you might help me." + +He rose, went towards the library, which was by the entrance-door, +took a staff officer's map and came, unfolding it, towards the sofa. + +"Sit down again by me, uncle, and let us do some geography +together!" + +He spread on his knees the map of the frontier of Lower Alsace. + +"I have made up my mind to go this way," he said. "There will be a +few inquiries to be made." + +Uncle Ulrich nodded his head in sign of approval, interested as if +it were some plan for a hunt, or an approaching battle. + +"Good place," he said, "Grande Fontaine, les Minières. It seems to +me that that is the nearest frontier line to Strasburg. Who told you +this?" + +"François Ramspacher's second son." + +"You can rely on it. You will take the train." + +"Yes." + +"Where to?" + +"As far as Schirmeck, I think." + +"No; that is too near the frontier, and it is too important a +station. In your place I should get out at the station before that, +at Russ Hersbach." + +"Good! There I take a carriage ordered beforehand--I go to Grande +Fontaine--I dash into the forest." + +"We dash, you mean?" + +"Are you coming?" + +The two men looked at each other, proud of each other. + +"Really," said M. Ulrich, "this astonishes you? It is my trade. +Pathfinder that I am, I am going first to reconnoitre the land, then +when I shall have done the wood so thoroughly that I can find my way +through it even by night, I will tell you if the plan is a good one, +and at the hour agreed upon you will find me there. Be careful to +dress like a tourist: soft hat, gaiters, not an ounce of baggage." + +"Quite so." + +M. Ulrich again scrutinised this handsome Jean who was leaving for +ever the land of the Oberlés, the Biehlers, and all their ancestors. + +All the same, how sad it is, in spite of the joy of the danger. + +"Bah!" said Jean, trying to laugh, "I shall see the Rhine at both +ends--there where it is free." + +M. Ulrich embraced him. + +"Courage, my boy, we shall meet soon. Take care not to let any one +guess your plan. Who is it you are going to tell?" + +"M. Bastian." + +The uncle approved, and already on the threshold, pointing to the +next room which M. Philippe Oberlé never left now: + +"The poor man! There is more honour in his half of a human +personality than in all the others together. Good-bye, Jean!" + + * * * * * + +Some hours passed and Jean went to the office of the works as usual. +But his mind was so distracted that work was impossible. The +employees who wished to speak to him noticed it. One of the foremen +could not help saying to the clerks in the writing department, +Germans like himself: + +"The German cavalry is making ravages here: the master looks half +mad." + +The same patriotic feeling made them all laugh silently. + +Then the dinner bell rang. Jean dreaded meeting his mother and +Lucienne. Lucienne held her brother back as she was entering the +dining-room, and in the half-light tenderly embraced him, holding +him closely to her. Like most engaged people, it was probably a +little of the other she was embracing without knowing it. However, +the thought at least was for Jean. She murmured: + +"I saw him at Obernai for a long time. He pleases me very much, +because he is proud, like me. He has promised me to protect you in +the regiment. But do not let us speak of him at dinner. It will be +better not to. Mamma has been very kind--the poor thing touched me. +She can do no more. Jean, I was obliged to reassure her by telling +her your secret, and I told her that you will not leave Alsace, +because you love Odile. Will you forgive me?" + +She took her brother's arm, and leaving the hall went into the +dining-room, where M. and Madame Oberlé were seated already--silent. + +"My poor dear, in this house every joy is paid for by the sorrow of +others. Look! I alone am happy!" + +The dinner was very short. M. Oberlé immediately after led his +daughter into the billiard-room because he wanted to question her. +The mother remained a moment at the table near her son, who was now +her neighbour. As soon as she was alone with him, the constraint +fell like a veil from her face. The mother turned towards her child, +admired him, smiled at him, and said in the confidential tone she +knew so well how to use: + +"I can do no more, my dear. I am completely done up and must go to +bed. But I will confess that amidst my suffering a while ago I had +one joy. Imagine that till just then I believed most firmly that you +were going to leave us." + +Jean started. + +"I do not believe it now; do not be afraid! I am reassured. Your +sister has told me in secret that I shall have some day a little +Alsatian for a daughter-in-law. That will do me so much good. I +understand that you could not tell me anything yet, while so much +has been happening. And then it is still new--isn't it? Why are you +trembling like that? I tell you, Jean, that I ask nothing from you +now, and that I have entirely lost my fears--I love you so much." + +She also embraced Jean. She also pressed him to her breast. But she +had no tenderness in her soul except that which she was expressing. + +She remembered the child in the cradle, nights and days of long ago, +anxieties, dreams, precautions, and prayers of which he had been the +object, and she thought: + +"All that is nothing compared with what I would always do for him!" + +"When she had disappeared, and he had heard the noise she made +opening the invalid grandfather's door, to whom she never missed +wishing good night, Jean rose and went out. He went through the +fields to the trees which surrounded the Bastians' house, went into +the park and, hidden there, remained some time watching the light +which filtered through the shutters of the large drawing-room. +Voices spoke, now one, now another. He recognised the tone but could +not distinguish the words. There were pauses between the slowly +spoken words, and Jean imagined that they were sad. The temptation +came to him to go round those few yards of frontage and enter the +drawing-room boldly. He thought: "Now that I have decided to live +out of Alsace; now that they have refused me because of my father's +attitude and because of Lucienne's marriage, I have no longer the +right to question Odile. I shall go away without knowing if she also +suffers as I suffer. But can I not see her in her own home for the +last time, in the intimacy of the lamplight which brings the three +of them together? I will not write to her. I will not try to speak +to her, but I must see her; I shall carry away a last look of her--a +last remembrance, and she will guess that at least I am deserving +of pity." + +He hesitated however. This evening he felt too unhappy and too weak. +From now to the first of October, would he not have the time to +return? A step came from the garden side. Jean looked again at the +thin blade of light which escaped from the room where Odile was +sitting, and cut the night in two; and he withdrew. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE LAST EVENING + + +The last evening had come. Jean was to take at Obernai a night train +for Strasburg, so as to be in the barracks of St. Nicholas the next +morning at seven o'clock, the regulation hour. His uniform, ordered +of a Strasburg tailor, as was usual for the one-year service men, +was waiting for him, blue and yellow, folded on two chairs, in the +room which a month ago Madame Oberlé had taken, facing the barracks +of St. Nicholas, about the middle of the rue des Balayeurs. After +dinner he said to his mother: "Let me go out alone, so that I can +say good-bye to the Alsheim country I shall not see again for a long +time." + +She smiled. M. Joseph Oberlé answered: + +"My dear fellow, you will not see me again; I have bills falling due +to-morrow, and I must work in my office. And besides, I do not care +about useless sentiment. Well, perhaps you will not find it easy to +get leave before two months. I dare say not, but that will only make +you the better pleased to come home. Come! Good-bye." + +More affectionately than he would have believed it possible he +embraced him, and with a word from Lucienne in her clear, young +voice, "Soon," he went out. + +The night air was laden with moisture to a remarkable degree: not a +cloud. A crescent moon, stars in thousands; but between heaven and +earth a veil of mist was spread which allowed the light to +penetrate, but dispersed it in such a manner that there was no +object really in shadow, and none which showed brightly. Everything +was bathed in a pearly atmosphere. It was warm to breathe. "How +sweet my Alsace is!" said Jean, when he had opened the door of the +kitchen garden, and found himself behind the village houses, facing +the plain, on which the moonlight was sleeping, blotted here and +there with the shadows of an apple-tree or a walnut. An immense +languor escaped from the soil, into which the first rains of autumn +had sunk. The perfumes of stubble and ploughed land mixed with the +odours from all kinds of vegetation come to their fullness of growth +and aroma. The mountain was sending out gently to the valley the +odour of pine pollen on the breeze, and the mint and the dying +strawberries and bilberries, and its juniper berries crushed by the +feet of passers-by and flocks. Jean breathed in the odour of Alsace; +he thought he could recognise the exquisite perfume of that little +mountain which is near Colmar, called Florimont, where the dittany +grows, and he thought, "It is the last time. Never again! Never +again!" + +There were no glittering points of light on the roofs; he followed +the line of them on the left of the path: they seemed to have joined +fraternal hands round the church, and under each Jean could picture +a face known and friendly. Such were his thoughts for a while as he +walked on. But as soon as he saw, grey in the middle of the fields, +the big clump of trees which hid M. Bastian's house, every other +thought fled. Arrived at the farm where the younger son had said to +him, "It is by Grande Fontaine that you must cross the frontier," he +went into the cherry avenue, and he still remembered and found the +white gate. No one was passing. Besides, what did it matter? Jean +opened the lattice gate, went in, and walked on the grass border, +even with the great trees, to the window of the drawing-room, which +was lighted, then going round the house, came to the door which +opened on the side opposite the village of Alsheim. + +He waited an instant, went into the vestibule, and opened the door +of the large room where the Bastian family sat every evening. They +were all there in the light of the lamps, just as Jean had imagined. +The father was reading the paper. The two women on the other side of +the brown table laden with white linen unfolded, were embroidering +with initials the towels which were going into the Bastian linen +press. The door had opened with no other noise than that of the pad +brushing against the parquet. However, all was so calm round the +dwelling and in the room, that they turned their eyes to see who was +coming in. There was a moment of uncertainty for M. Bastian, and +hesitation for Jean. He had fixed his gaze first of all on Odile. He +had seen how she also had suffered, and that she was the first, the +only one who recognised him, and how she grew pale, and that in her +anguish, her raised hand, her breath, her glance, were arrested. The +linen Odile was sewing slipped from her hands without her being able +to make the slightest movement to lift it up. + +It was perhaps by this sign that M. Bastian recognised the visitor. +Emotion seized him immediately. + +"What?" he asked gently, "is it you, Jean? No one showed you in. +What have you come for?" + +He slowly put his paper down on the table without ceasing to +scrutinise the young man who was standing in the shadow, on the same +spot, a step or two from the door. + +"I have come to say good-bye," said Jean. + +But his voice was so full of pain that M. Bastian understood +something unknown, tragic, had entered his house. He rose, saying, +"Why, yes, to-morrow will be the first of October. You are going to +the barracks, my poor boy. No doubt you wish to speak to me?" + +Already M. Bastian had advanced, had held out his hand, and the +young man, drawing him back into the darkest corner of the room, had +answered in a very low voice, his eyes looking into the eyes of +Odile's father. Madame Bastian gazed into the shadow, where they +made an indistinct group. + +"I am leaving," Jean murmured, "and I shall never come back, M. +Bastian; that is why I took the liberty of coming." + +He felt the rough hand of the Alsatian tremble. There was an +exchange of secret and rapid dialogue between the men, while the two +anxious women rose from their chairs, and with their hands leaning +on the table, bent forward. + +"What do you say? You will come back in a year?" + +"No, I am going to join the regiment because I promised to. But I +shall leave it." + +"You will leave it?" + +"The day after to-morrow." + +"Where are you going?" + +"To France!" + +"For ever?" + +"Yes." + +The old Alsatian turned aside for a moment. "Talk on, you women, +talk on; we have business to discuss." + +They moved away, whilst he, breathless as though with running, +cried: "Be careful what you do; be prudent; don't let yourself be +caught." + +He placed both hands on Jean's shoulders. "I must stay: that's my +way, you see, of loving Alsace; there is no better. I live here, and +here I die. But for you, my boy, things are different, I +understand--don't let the women guess; it's too serious. Does any +one know at your home?" + +"No." + +"Keep your secret," and then, lowering his voice, "You wanted to see +her once more. I don't blame you, since you will never meet again." + +Jean nodded as though to say "Yes, I had to see her once more." + +"Look at her a minute, and then go. Stay where you are--look over my +shoulder." + +Over M. Bastian's shoulder Jean could see that the troubled look in +Odile's eyes had grown to terror. She met his gaze fearlessly; she +had no thought but for the dialogue which she could not hear, the +mystery in which she felt she had some part, and her face betrayed +her anguish. + +"What are they saying? Is it bad news again? Is it better? No; not +better, they are not both looking my way." + +Her mother was still paler than her daughter. + +"Farewell, my boy," said M. Bastian in low tones. "I loved you.... I +could not act differently ... but I think highly of you; I will +remember you." + +Overcome by emotion, the old Alsatian silently pressed Jean's hand +and let it fall. As to Jean, trembling and dazed, he walked to the +door, looking back for the last time. He was going then--in one +minute he would be gone, never to return to Alsheim. + +"Au revoir, madame," he said. + +He would have liked to say au revoir to Odile, but sobs prevented +the words. + +He gained the shadow of the corridor; they heard him hurrying away. + +"What does it mean?" demanded Madame Bastian. "Xavier, you are +hiding something from us." + +The old Alsatian sobbed aloud; he threw precaution to the winds--she +had guessed. + +"Odile," she cried, "run and say good-bye to him." + +Odile was already across the room; she caught Jean up at the corner. + +"I beg of you to tell me why you are so miserable," she cried. + +He turned, determined to be silent, to keep his vow. She was quite +close to him; he opened his arms; she threw herself into them. + +"Oh God," she cried, "you are leaving; I know it--you are going." + +He kissed her hair tenderly, a lifelong farewell, turned the corner, +and fled from her. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +JOINING THE REGIMENT + + +At a quarter to seven, Jean Oberlé, wearing a jacket and round cap, +walked by the stable of the old French barracks of St. Nicholas, +built on the site of a convent, now called by the Germans "Nikolaus +Kaserne." He reached the iron gate, saluted the officer, exchanged a +few words with him, and advanced towards a group of about a dozen +young men, volunteers for a year's service, who were standing at the +end of the courtyard, under the clock. Cavalry men in undress--light +blue tunic with yellow braid, black trousers, and flat caps--moved +here and there over vast, level, dusty grounds. A detachment of +cavalry, lance at shoulder, had taken up their station to the left +by one of the stables, waiting their officer's command to take the +road. + +"Herr Sergeant," said Jean, approaching the non-commissioned +officer, carefully dressed, but of vulgar appearance, who, with a +protecting and pretentious manner, was waiting for him by the group +of volunteers. "I am one of the volunteers for the year." + +The sergeant, who had very long black moustaches, which he never +ceased twirling between the thumb and first finger, asked his +christian and surname, and compared them with the names and surnames +on the list he held in his hand. + +Meanwhile, secretly intimidated by the supposed wealth of those he +received, eager to please them, but anxious lest they should +discover it, the sergeant looked the volunteer up and down, as +though seeking some physical defect, anything in fact which might +make this Alsatian civilian ridiculous in the eyes of a +non-commissioned officer. + +"Join the others," he said, when his examination was finished. + +The others were for the most part Germans, who, judging by the +different types, had come from all parts of the Empire. They had +dressed carefully, so as to show their comrades, volunteers like +themselves, and the soldiers in the barracks, that in civil life +they were men who belonged to wealthy families. + +They wore patent leather shoes, kid gloves, yellow or tan, elegant +ties, valuable neck-pins. Each man introduced himself to his future +comrades. "Allow me to introduce myself: my name is Furbach, my name +is Blossmann." Jean knew none of them. He merely bowed without +giving his name. What did it matter to him who was to be their +comrade for this one day only? + +He took his place to the left of the group, his mind far away from +the St. Nicholas barrack, while the whispered question, "Who is +he--an Alsatian?" went the round of his comrades. + +The easy-going smiled amiably, others put themselves on the +defensive, and with the rivalry of racial instinct, drew themselves +up and fixed their hard blue eyes upon the new-comer with an +unflinching stare. + +Two other volunteers arrived, and the sergeant, as the clock struck, +preceded the fifteen young men up the staircase, and marshalled them +into a room on the second floor, where the medical examination was +to take place. At eight o'clock the volunteers were again in the +courtyard, no longer grouped as the fancy took them, but drawn up in +two files, the sergeant in attendance. They were awaiting the +colonel. Jean's neighbour was a tall, beardless youth, son of a +manufacturer of Fribourg, with bright eyes, and smooth cheeks, which +bore, however, two scars, one near the nose, and one under the right +eye, souvenirs of his duels as a student. Seeing Jean Oberlé's +dreamy, reserved look, he put it down to timidity caused by his new +surroundings, and took upon himself the office of guide. + +Whilst the Alsatian, his arms behind his back, his pale, strong face +turned to the gate, watched the people of Strasburg crossing the +street in the October sun, his companion endeavoured to arouse his +interest in the inhabitants of the barracks. + +"You were wrong not to do as I did: I got introductions to several +officers, and even know several of the chief quartermasters. There, +do you see the _wachtmeister_ coming out of the stable; that's +Stubel, hard drinker, great eater, good sort; that other one who is +watching us from the end of the courtyard, the man with a little red +moustache, do you see? That's Gottfried Hamm--a bad sort." + +"You know him?" + +"Yes." + +"Attention!" called the sergeant. "Eyes right!", He himself marched +ten quick steps forward, halted with head erect, his arms hanging +straight at each side, his left hand gripping his sabre below the +guard. He had caught sight of an officer advancing towards them with +deliberate step, wrapped in his grey cloak, the mere sight of whom +had scattered some twenty hussars, who had been leaning against the +walls sunning themselves. The colonel stopped before the first file +of young men, the hope of the German reserve army. He was sanguine, +bustling, and energetic, a very good cavalry-man, broad-shouldered, +with thin legs, hair almost black, and eyes fierce in the interests +of the service. + +"These, Colonel," said the sergeant, "are the volunteers for a +year's service." + +The colonel frowned immediately, and fixing his eyes on each of +these young men in turn, said severely: + +"You are privileged. You are dispensed from more than a year's +service. Be worthy of it. Be an example to the soldiers; remember +that you will be their chiefs later. No breaking of rules, no +larking, no wearing of civilian dress. I shall punish severely." + +He asked for the list of volunteers. Seeing Jean's name he mentally +connected it with Lieutenant von Farnow's. + +"Volunteer Oberlé," he called out. + +Oberlé stepped out of the ranks. Without relaxing the severity of +his expression, the colonel fixed his eyes for a few moments on the +young man's face, thinking to himself that here was the brother of +the Lucienne Oberlé whose hand he had allowed Lieutenant Farnow to +ask in marriage. + +"That's right," he said; and saluting rapidly he walked away, his +grey cloak swelling with the north wind. + +As he disappeared, a lieutenant in the 1st regiment, adjutant-major +of the Rhenish Hussars, a well-made, distinguished-looking man, +bearing himself in the correct military style, a perfect man of the +world, came towards the group of volunteers, and read an order +assigning to each one his appointed place in such and such a company +and squadron. Jean was to join the 3rd company of the 2nd squadron. + +"No luck," murmured his neighbour: "that's Gottfried Hamm's +company." + +Henceforward the fifteen volunteers were part of the army; each one +had his allotted place in that well-disciplined multitude, their +responsible chiefs, the right to demand a uniform from such and such +a depot, a horse from such and such a stable. To this they now +turned their attention. Jean and his chance companion, son of a +librarian of Leipzig, made their way to the top floor of the +barrack, entered the clothing-stores and received their uniforms, +leaving behind various articles, such as cavalry cloaks and pairs of +boots, which the _kammer-sergeant_ was pleased to accept for +himself as a token of welcome, or undertook to remit to certain +non-commissioned officers of the company. It was a long business, +and did not finish till past ten. Then there was a visit to the +principal brusher's room, where there was the little wardrobe of +white wood, used henceforth in common by the volunteer and the +soldier; and there was still the visit to the stable sergeant, whose +duty it was to assign to each his horse and second brusher; then +another to the regimental tailor; it was past midday when Jean was +able to leave the barracks and lunch hastily. + +For this first day the volunteers were dispensed from returning to +barracks at one o'clock. It was only after the horses had been +groomed that they made their appearance simultaneously as arranged +between themselves, radiant in their shining new uniforms, before +the curious gaze of the cavalry, and the jealous scrutiny of the +non-commissioned officers who examined, as they passed, the cut and +quality of their uniforms, the style of their collars and braid, the +lustre of their shining boots. Among the young men there was only +one who remained a stranger to the self-complacency of the others. +He was thinking of a telegram which he should have received by now, +of which the terms of the pre-arranged code floated before his eyes +all the afternoon. This was his only thought. Anxiety at not hearing +news of his uncle Ulrich's departure, nervousness mixed with a +certain defiance which, in anticipation of the morrow, he mentally +hurled at the authority to which he at present bowed, prevented the +young man from feeling fatigue. It was half-past eight before the +exercises for man and horse were concluded, and then some of the +volunteers were so tired that they sought their beds, supperless. +Jean did likewise, but for a different reason. He went at once to +the Rue des Balayeurs. + +The landlady met him at the door: + +"There is a telegram for you, M. Oberlé." + +Jean went to his room, lit a candle, and read the unsigned telegram +awaiting him: + +"All is well." + +This meant that all was ready for next day, that M. Ulrich had made +all necessary preparations. The dice were cast; on the 2nd October, +in a few hours, Jean would leave the barracks of Alsace. Although he +never hesitated for a moment, yet, upon reading the words which +settled his fate, the young man was overcome by emotion. The reality +of separation entered his soul more bitterly, and being physically +weary, he wept. + +He had thrown himself on his bed fully dressed, his face buried in +his pillow; he thought of all his friends who remained behind in +Alsace, whilst he was an exile for ever; he could hear their +exclamations of pity or indignation when the news reached Alsheim; +he saw the girl he loved, the radiant Odile of Easter Eve, become +the despairing woman who had clung to him in the moment of farewell, +guessing all, yet begging for an answer he could not give. All this +was necessary, irreparable. The night passed slowly. Silence reigned +in the streets. Jean realised that he would soon need all his moral +energy, and endeavoured to lay aside vain visions and regrets, +repeating to himself over and over again the plans settled between +himself and his uncle at their last interview, which he was to carry +out in every detail to-day. + +Yes, to-day, for the neighbouring cocks were beginning to crow. It +was not possible to leave by an early train. The rendezvous at the +barracks was fixed for four o'clock, while the first train for +Schirmeck left Strasburg at 5.48; he would not reach Russ-Hersbach +until after seven, and to take it was a great risk. The absence of a +volunteer would be noticed in less than three hours, and the alarm +given. Uncle Ulrich and Jean had come to the conclusion that the +most sure means of crossing the frontier without arousing suspicion +was to take the train which left Strasburg at 12.10 a.m., that is to +say, whilst the volunteers were at lunch. + +"I have been over the ground to make sure," said M. Ulrich: "I am +sure of my calculations. You will reach Russ-Hersbach at twenty-one +minutes past one, a trap will take us to Schirmeck in a quarter of +an hour. We turn to the right and reach Grande Fontaine half an hour +later. There we leave the trap, and, thanks to our good legs, we can +reach French ground by two forty-five or fifty. There I leave you +and return." + +It was important to catch the 12.10 train, which would be an easy +matter, as the volunteers were usually free by eleven. + +Jean fell asleep at last, but not for long. Before four in the +morning he was again at the barracks. + +The short repose he had taken had restored his strength of will. +Like most energetic people, Jean was nervous beforehand, but when +the moment of action came difficulties vanished. While the horses +were being groomed, and during the exercises, which lasted till +close on eleven, he was perfectly calm. His attitude was even less +reserved and detached than on the previous day, and his Saxon +comrade remarked upon it. + +"Already at home?" he inquired. + +Jean smiled. He looked upon buildings, officers, and soldiers, all +the pomp of the German army, with the same feelings as a school-boy +set at liberty looks on the professors and pupils of his college. He +already felt detached from his surroundings, and observed with a +certain amused curiosity the scenes he would never see again. + +About eleven he saw at the head of a detachment of Hussars, +Lieutenant Farnow ride into the barracks, superb in his youth and +military splendour. The horses were splashed with mud from their +ride, and the men, tired out, only awaited the signal to halt, that +they might curse the day's exercises. Not in the least weary, Farnow +rode into the courtyard with as much pleasure as though he had been +invited to a hunting party, and was expecting the signal to start. +"There's my sister's future husband," thought Jean; "we shall never +see one another again, and if war breaks out, he is my enemy." + +He saw the vision of a tall cavalry chief, charging across a dusty +plain, rising in his stirrups, nostrils distended, shouting out +orders. Farnow, not suspecting the distraction he was causing the +young volunteer, just let his blue eyes linger a minute on the +latter's face. He moved off, followed by his men, to the farther +side of the courtyard. A brief word of command was heard, then the +clashing of arms, and silence. The exercises were prolonged another +half hour, to satisfy the instructor's zeal. At half-past eleven +Jean was rushing up the staircase, knowing that there was barely +time to catch the train, when one of the men of his company called +out: + +"There's no time to go out; we have a review at midday: it's the +captain's orders." + +Jean continued on up the stairs, not paying the slightest attention +to this obstacle raised at the last minute. His mind was made up. He +was going to leave. He would meet his uncle at Russ-Hersbach, who +would be waiting there with a carriage. Jean's one thought was to +reach the station. He changed hurriedly, and mixing with a group of +men belonging to other companies, and who had no reason to remain in +barracks, he had no difficulty in getting away. When he was in the +street, some yards away from the guard-house, on the pavement of the +rue des Balayeurs he began to run. The clock stood at seventeen +minutes to twelve. Was there time to run the three hundred yards +which lay between him and his apartments, change into civilian dress +and catch the 12.10? It was some distance to the station. On the +other hand there was great risk in attempting to cross the frontier +in uniform. While he was running Jean thought it would be simple to +change in the train or at Russ-Hersbach. Entering the hall, he +called breathlessly to his landlady: + +"I am in a great hurry. Will you call a cab? I will be down in a +minute." + +Three minutes later he ran down carrying a bag into which he had +thrown his civilian clothes, which he had left ready on his bed. He +jumped into the cab, giving as address, "Rue de la Mésange," but at +the next corner he called out: "Drive with all speed to the station, +coachman." + +He reached the station a minute before the time, got his ticket for +Russ-Hersbach, and jumped into a first-class compartment, which +contained two other passengers. A minute later the train had entered +the tunnel under the fortifications, reappeared, and steamed away to +the west, across the plains of Alsace. + +At the same moment the captain, who was holding the review in the +courtyard, caught sight of one of the volunteers attached to his +company, and turning to the _wachtmeister_ said: "Where is the +other?" + +"I have not seen him, Captain," Hamm replied, and turning to the +young Saxon, Oberlé's comrade: "Do you know where he is?" + +"He went out after the exercises, sir, and has not returned." + +"I won't punish him this time," growled the captain; "no doubt he +misunderstood, but speak to him in my name when he returns, Hamm; +don't forget." + +There was no immediate alarm, but when the men again assembled at +one o'clock for the grooming of the horses, which went on every +afternoon from one to two o'clock, Jean's absence could not fail to +be noticed. The whole length of the wall outside the stables, horses +tethered to iron rings were being brushed down by men, amongst whom +were the volunteers receiving a lesson in the art. The sergeants +looked on nonchalantly when the _wachtmeister_ of the 3rd Company +came out of his office, and made his way to the south side of the +court, where Oberlé should have been. He bit his red moustache as +his eyes wandered up and down the ranks. + +"Oberlé has not come back?" he asked. The same man as before +replied: + +"When he left the barracks he ran towards his apartments." + +"Did you see him in the mess-room?" + +"He did not lunch with us." + +"That'll do," said the _wachtmeister_. + +Hamm turned away briskly. The expression of his face and eyes showed +that he considered the situation serious. Serious for Oberlé, but +equally serious for himself. Neither the captain nor the lieutenant +was in barracks at the moment. If there was trouble the captain +would not fail to ask why he had not been warned. Hamm crossed the +courtyard, thinking over what he ought to do, and recalling a remark +of the brigadier of Obernai. When Gottfried was at Obernai a +fortnight before, he had said to him: "You are going to have +Oberlé's son in your regiment. Keep an eye on him. I shall be +surprised if he does not create some disturbance. He is the +counterpart of his grandfather, a madman who hates Germans, and who +is quite capable of any folly." + +But before taking zealous action it was necessary to know some +details. This was easy: the rue des Balayeurs faced the gateway. +Hamm brushed his blue tunic with his hand, left the barracks, and +made his way to a large house on the left with green shutters. + +"Left in a cab, before midday, carrying a bag," was the answer +Jean's landlady gave him. + +"What address did he give?" + +"Rue de la Mésange." + +"Any number?" + +"I don't know; anyway I heard none." + +Hamm's suspicions became more definite. The _wachtmeister_ no longer +hesitated. He hastened to the captain's quarters in the +Herderstrasse. + +The captain was out. + +Disappointed and warm from his sharp walk, Hamm took a short cut to +the barracks, through the University gardens. He suddenly remembered +that close by in the rue Grandidier, lived Lieutenant Farnow. It is +true the lieutenant did not belong to the 2nd squadron, but Hamm +knew of his engagement. It had been talked of among the officers. He +made his way to the superb stone house and mounted to the first +floor. + +"The lieutenant is dressing," replied the orderly to his question. + +Von Farnow in shirt and trousers was dressing before paying certain +calls, and going to the officers' casino. In trousers and shirt he +was leaning over his toilet-table with its bevelled glass, washing +his face. The room was perfumed with eau-de-cologne, brushes and +manicure set were strewn round him. He turned as the door opened, +his face all wet. + +"What is the matter, Hamm?" he cried, seizing a towel. + +"I took upon myself to call upon you, lieutenant, as the captain is +not there, and Oberlé----" + +"Oberlé? What has he done?" Farnow interrupted nervously. + +"He has not put in an appearance since half-past eleven this +morning." + +Farnow, who was drying his face, threw down the towel violently on +the table, and approached the non-commissioned officer. He +remembered Madame Oberlé's fears. "He thinks as I do," thought Hamm. + +"Has not come back? Have you been to the rue des Balayeurs?" + +"Yes, lieutenant; he left the house in a cab at ten minutes to +twelve." + +The young lieutenant felt as though death's icy hand was on his +heart. He closed his eyes for a moment, and with a violent effort +regained his composure. + +"There is only one thing to do, Hamm," he said. He was deadly pale, +but not a muscle of his face quivered. "You must warn your captain, +and he will do what is prescribed in such cases." + +Farnow turned calmly, and looked at the ornamental clock on his +desk. + +"One-forty--you must be quick." + +The _wachtmeister_ saluted and withdrew. + +The lieutenant ran to the adjoining study, and asked to be connected +with the Strasburg station. Ten minutes later the telephone bell +rang, and he learnt that a volunteer of the 9th Hussars, in uniform, +had reached the station at the last moment with a valise portmanteau +and taken a first-class ticket to Russ-Hersbach. + +"It's impossible," exclaimed Farnow, throwing himself on to the +sofa; "there must be some mistake Russ-Hersbach is almost on the +frontier. Jean would not desert--he is in love; he must be at +Alsheim--he must at least have wanted to see Odile again. I must +find out." + +"Hermann," he called, rapping with his knuckles on the mahogany +table. + +The orderly, a stolid German, opened the door. + +"Saddle my horse and yours immediately." + +Farnow was soon ready; he hastened downstairs, found the horses +waiting, crossed Strasburg, and once past the fortifications, +spurred his horse to a sharp trot. + +As he neared Alsheim, Jean's desertion seemed to him more credible. +Every detail of his conversation with Madame Oberlé came back to +him, and other reasons as well for believing the calamity against +which his imperious will was fighting desperately. "He does not +understand Germany; he was glorying in it at Councillor Brausig's. +And then his disunited family--a disunion increased by my +engagement. But then he is himself engaged, or almost; and +characters like his, French characters, must be dominated by love. +No; I shall find him there--or have news of him." + +It was warm; the long dusty road stretched from village to village, +without shade, a thin line between the fields, now bare of their +crops. The sky hung over them like brass, on the horizon banks of +motionless clouds rose above the Vosges, throwing out rays of light. +The horses, covered with sweat, continued to gallop. Under the +scattered walnut-trees, among the stubble, children raised their +switches and shouted as the riders passed them. + +"Is the lieutenant crazy?" thought Hermann; "he is going faster and +faster." + +Farnow's anguish increased as he drew nearer his destination. "If I +do not find him," he murmured, "supposing he has----" + +Obernai was passed on the right. A sign-post at the cross roads +pointed to Alsheim, and soon the blue roof of the Oberlés' house +appeared among the green. + +"Lucienne, Lucienne, Lucienne!" + +The house seemed to slumber in the heavy heat of the autumn day, the +silence being broken only by a feeble, monotonous voice. Seated near +grandfather Oberlé's chair, in the room which the invalid could +never hope to leave, Madame Oberlé was reading aloud the _Journal +d'Alsace_, which the postman had just delivered. + +Through the open window her voice could be heard murmuring as though +engaged in the rhythmic recital of the rosary. In the billiard-room +above, that which was still called Jean's room, M. Joseph Oberlé was +dozing behind the curtain, on his knees lay several letters, and a +copy of the _Strasburger Post_. At the end of the room Lucienne +could be seen writing at a Louis XVI. desk. + +"Monsieur? Monsieur Oberlé?" + +Joseph Oberlé jumped up and threw open the door, which was ajar, +meeting the concierge running towards him. + +"Why do you call me; you know I don't like----" + +He remained speaking with the man for a minute, and returned +smiling. + +"My Lucienne, Herr von Farnow is waiting for you at the park gate." + +She rose, blushing. + +"Why doesn't he come in?" + +"It appears that he is on horseback, and in a great hurry. Perhaps +he dares not. Go and fetch him, my darling; tell him from me that +there shall be no disturbance, that I will prevent any further +scenes." + +With a gesture he implied that he would bolt all the doors sooner, +especially that of the room whence came the monotonous voice reading +the paper. + +She looked in the glass, arranging her hair. He repeated: + +"Run, my treasure; he is asking for you. If you don't return quickly +I'll come for you." + +She nodded, and ran down the steps two at a time. She walked rapidly +down the avenue, happy, yet troubled, her mouth slightly open, her +eyes seeking Farnow. + +At the end of the avenue she caught sight of the two steaming horses +on the road held by the orderly, and almost at the same moment the +lieutenant came towards her. + +Farnow's usually pale face was flushed, his expression troubled; he +hastened, but with no sign of joy, towards Lucienne, who came half +running to meet him, trying to laugh. + +"How are you, Wilhelm? What a nice surprise!" + +The lieutenant raised his hat, but made no reply. He took her hand, +and drew her aside; he did not raise it to his lips; no accustomed +words of admiration came from him; his eyes were hard and feverish, +and he drew her near the wood-yard close by. + +Lucienne continued to smile bravely, though her heart was heavy with +painful dread. + +"Where are you taking me? Who is this churlish friend, who won't +even say good day? You, so particular----" + +"Come, we shan't be seen here," he said; he drew her behind a pile +of wood into a kind of retreat formed by three unequal piles of +planks. Farnow dropped Lucienne's hand. + +"Is Jean here? Be careful; is he at Alsheim?" + +His eyes expressed his anguish, his manner an imperious will +struggling against calamity. + +"No; he is not here," replied Lucienne simply. + +"You expect him, then?" + +"No." + +"Then we are lost, mademoiselle, lost!" + +"Mademoiselle?" + +"Yes; if he is not here he has deserted." + +"Ah!" The young girl recoiled, supporting herself against the wood, +her eyes haggard, her arms outstretched. + +"Deserted? Lost? Can't you see that you are killing me with such +words? Do you really mean Jean? Deserted! Are you sure?" + +"Since he is not here, I am convinced of it. He took a ticket for +Russ-Hersbach--do you understand, Russ-Hersbach? He must be across +the frontier. He left Strasburg more than three hours ago." He +laughed harshly, angrily, beside himself with misery. + +"Don't you remember? He swore to your mother he would go to the +barracks. He did go. To-day the time for his promise expired, and he +deserted. And now...." + +"Yes ... now?" + +Lucienne asked no proof. She believed it. Her bosom heaved; she let +go her hold on the wood, and joined her hands beseechingly. She was +obliged to repeat her question; Farnow stood motionless, +grief-stricken. "What shall you do now, Wilhelm?" + +Farnow drew himself up in his dusty uniform; his brow was +contracted. + +"I must leave you," he said in a low voice." + +"Leave me, because my brother has deserted?" + +"Yes." + +"But this is madness!" + +"It is my duty as a soldier." + +"Then you do not love me?" + +"Love you. Ah!... But honour forbids me to marry you. I cannot +become the brother-in-law of a deserter. I am an officer, a von +Farnow!" + +"Well, cease to be an officer and continue to love me," cried +Lucienne, holding out her arms to the rigid figure in blue. +"Wilhelm, true honour consists in loving me, Lucienne Oberlé, in +keeping the promise you made me! Leave my brother to go his own +way, but don't spoil our two lives." + +Farnow could scarcely speak; the veins of his neck were swollen with +his efforts for self-control. + +"There is worse to come," he said at last, "you must know the truth, +Lucienne. I must denounce him." + +"Denounce him? Jean? You cannot. I forbid you!" cried Lucienne with +a gesture of horror. + +"I must do so. Military law compels me to do so." + +"It is not true!--it is too cruel." + +"I will prove it to you. Hermann!" + +Hermann came forward in amazement. + +"Listen. What is the article of the law relating to any person who +has knowledge of a plan of desertion?" + +The soldier collected his thoughts, and recited: + +"Any one who shall have credible knowledge of a plan of desertion, +when there is still time to frustrate it, and who does not give +information thereof to his superiors, is liable to be imprisoned for +ten months, and during war for three years." + +"Quick! To horse!" cried Farnow. "We must start. + +"Farewell, Lucienne." + +She ran forward and seized his arm. + +"No, no, you must not go; I shall not let you." + +He gazed a moment on her tear-stained face, where ardent love and +sorrow were mingled. + +"You must not go! Do you hear?" she repeated. + +Farnow lifted her from the ground, pressed her against his breast +and kissed her passionately. By the despairing violence of his kiss, +Lucienne realised it was indeed farewell. + +He put her from him brusquely, ran to the gate, leapt to the saddle, +and galloped away in the direction of Obernai. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +IN THE FOREST OF THE MINIÈRES + + +Night was falling, but Jean was still on German soil. He was +sleeping, worn out with fatigue; he lay stretched upon a bed of moss +and fir cones, while M. Ulrich watched, on the look out for fresh +danger, still trembling from the danger he had just escaped. The two +men had crept into a space between two stacks of branches left by +the wood-cutters, who had been thinning the fir-tree plantation. The +branches, still green, stretched from one stack to the other, making +their hiding-place more secure. A storm of wind blew across the +mountain, but otherwise no sound could be heard upon the heights. + +Two hours must have passed since Jean and his uncle had taken refuge +in their hiding-place. + +When the train reached Russ-Hersbach, M. Ulrich had at once seen and +said that the moment for Jean to change his uniform had passed. Even +such a little thing as that would have excited too much attention in +that frontier province, peopled by visible and invisible watchers, +where the stones listen and the fir-trees are spies. He threw the +valise to the coachman of the landau engaged three days previously +at Schirmeck. + +"Here's some useless luggage," he cried, "fortunately it's not +heavy. Drive quickly, coachman." + +The carriage crossed the poverty-stricken village, reached the town +of Schirmeck, and quitting there the principal valley turned to the +right into the narrow winding valley leading to Grande Fontaine. No +suspicious glances followed the travellers, but witnesses of their +passing increased. And this was serious. Although Jean was sitting +with his back to the driver, partially hidden by the blinds and +partially by the cloak which M. Ulrich had thrown over him, yet +there was no doubt the uniform of the 9th Hussars had been seen by +two gendarmes in the streets of Schirmeck, by workmen on the road, +and by the douanier who was smoking and had continued to smoke his +pipe so tranquilly, sitting under the trees on the left of the first +bridge by which one entered Grande Fontaine. + +Every moment M. Ulrich thought, "Now the alarm will be given! +Perhaps it has been already, and one of the state's innumerable +agents will come up, question us, and insist upon our following them +whatever we may say." + +He did not tell Jean of his anxiety, and the young man, excited by +the spirit of adventure, was quite different to the Jean of +yesterday. + +In spite of the steepness and stoniness of the path by the mountain +stream, the horses made good headway, and soon the houses of Grande +Fontaine came into sight. The beech-wood of Donon, all velvety and +golden and crowned with firs, rose in front of them. At 2.15 the +carriage stopped in the middle of the village, in a kind of sloping +square, where a spring of water flows into a huge stone trough. The +travellers got out, for here the carriage road ended. + +"Wait for us at the inn of Rémy Naeger," said M. Ulrich; "we will go +for a walk, and return in an hour. Drink a bottle of Molsheim wine +at my expense, and give the horse a double portion of oats." + +M. Ulrich and Jean, leaving on the right the path which mounts to +Donon, immediately took the path to the left, a narrow road with +houses, gardens, and hedges on either side, which connects Grande +Fontaine with the last village of the upper valley, that of the +Minières. + +They had scarcely gone two hundred yards when they caught sight of +the keeper of Mathiskop coming out of his house, in his green +uniform and Tyrolese hat, descending towards them. Seeing that the +man would be obliged to pass them on the road M. Ulrich was afraid. + +"There is a uniform, Jean, which I don't care to meet at present. +Let us go by the forest." + +The forest was on the left. They were the fir woods of Mathiskop, +and farther on those of the Corbeille, thickly wooded slopes rising +higher and higher, where a hiding-place would be easy to discover. +Jean and his uncle jumped the hedge, crossed some yards of meadow, +and entered the shadow of the fir wood. It was none too soon; the +military authorities had given the alarm; warning had been +telephoned to all the different posts to keep a look out for the +deserter Oberlé. The keeper they had seen had not yet received the +warning, and passed out of sight, but M. Ulrich, by means of his old +field-glass of Jena days, could see that there was excitement in the +usually quiet valley, where a number of douaniers and gendarmes +could be seen hurrying about. They also hurried to the Mathiskop +forest, and the chase commenced. + +M. Ulrich and Jean were not captured, but they had been sighted; +they were tracked from wood to wood for more than an hour, and were +prevented from reaching the frontier, to do which they would have +been compelled to cross the open valley. M. Ulrich had the happy +idea of climbing to the top of a stack of wood and letting himself +down into the opening between two stacks, Jean followed his +example. This had been their salvation, the gendarmes beat about the +wood for some time, and then made off in the direction of Glacimont. + +Night was falling, and Jean slept. Banks of clouds rose before the +wind, and hastened the darkness. A flight of crows crossed their +hiding-place, brushing the tree tops. The flapping of their wings +woke M. Ulrich from the reverie into which he had fallen while +contemplating his nephew dressed in the uniform of a German soldier, +lying stretched on Alsatian soil. He rose and gingerly climbed to +the top of the stack. + +"Well, uncle," asked Jean, waking up, "what do you see?" + +"Nothing, no gendarme's helmet, no douanier's cap," whispered M. +Ulrich. "I think they have lost the scent; but with such persons one +cannot be sure." + +"And the valley of the Minières?" + +"Appears to be deserted, my friend. No one on the roads, no one in +the fields. The keeper himself must have gone home to supper--there +is smoke coming from his chimney. How do you feel, boy--valiant?" + +"If we are pursued, you'll soon see." + +"I don't think we shall be. But the hour has come, my boy." + +He added after a short interval, whilst he pretended to listen: +"Come up whilst we lay some plan of campaign." + +"You see below the village of the Minières?" asked M. Ulrich, as +Jean's head appeared above the branches and turned towards the west. + +"Yes." + +"In spite of the mist and the darkness, can you make out that on the +other side the mountain is covered partly with fir- and partly with +beech-trees?" + +"I guess it." + +"We are going to make a half circle to avoid the gardens and fields +of the Minières, and when we are just opposite that spot, you will +only have to descend two hundred yards and you will be in France." + +Jean made no answer. + +"That's the spot I marked out for you. See that you recognise it. +Over there round Raon-sur-Plaine, the Germans have kept all the +forests for themselves; the barren lands they have left to France. +On the opposite side, facing us, there is an extensive strip of +meadow land which is French territory. I even saw a deserted +farmhouse, abandoned before the war, I suppose. I'll go first." + +"Excuse me, I'll go first." + +"No; I assure you, my boy, that the danger is equally great behind. +I must be guide. I go first; we'll avoid the pathways, and I will +lead you carefully to a point where you have only one thing to do: +go straight ahead and cross a road, then a few yards of underwood, +and beyond is French soil." + +M. Ulrich embraced Jean silently and quickly; he did not wish to +lose control of himself, when all depended on calmness. + +"Come," he said. + +They commenced the descent under cover of the tall fir-trees which +commenced just there. The slope was strewn with obstacles, against +which Jean or his uncle frequently stumbled, moss-covered stones, +fallen and rotten trunks, broken branches, like claws stretched out +in the darkness to bar the way. Every moment M. Ulrich stopped to +listen and would frequently look round, to make sure that Jean's +tall form was close behind him--it was too dark to see his face. + +"They'll be checkmated, uncle," whispered Jean. + +"Not too fast, my Jean; we are not yet safe." + +Still under cover, the fugitives reached the meadows of the +Minières, and began to ascend the mountain opposite, but without +quitting cover. + +When M. Ulrich reached the summit he stopped and sniffed the wind, +which blew more freely through the young trees. + +"Do you smell the air of France?" he murmured, in spite of the +danger of talking. + +A plain stretched in front of them, but was invisible; they could +distinguish the trees, which seemed like stationary smoke below, and +above were the scurrying clouds. M. Ulrich cautiously began the +descent, listening eagerly. An owl flew by. They had to make their +way a short distance through a prickly undergrowth which clung to +their clothes. + +Suddenly a voice in the forest called: + +"Halt!" + +M. Ulrich stooped, his hand on Jean's shoulder. + +"Don't move," he whispered quickly. "I'll call them off, by turning +towards the Minières. As soon as they follow me, get up, run off, +cross the road and then the little coppice--it's a straight line in +front of you. Adieu." + +He rose up, took a few steps cautiously, and then made off quickly +through the woods. + +"_Halt! Halt!_" + +A report rang out, and as the noise died away under the branches M. +Ulrich's voice, already some distance off, called: + +"Missed." + +At the same moment Jean Oberlé made a rush for the frontier. Head +lowered, seeing nothing, his elbows squared, his chest lashed by the +branches, he ran with all his might. He passed within a few inches +of a man lying in ambush. The branches were pushed aside, a whistle +was blown, Jean redoubled his efforts. He reached the road unawares; +another report rang out on the edge of the wood. Jean rolled over on +the edge of the copse. Cries arose: + +"Here he is! Here he is! Come." + +Jean jumped up instantly and dived into the wood. He thought he had +stumbled over a rut. He leapt into the copse. But his legs shook +under him. He felt with anguish a growing faintness overcoming him. +The cries of his pursuers rang in his ears, everything swam before +his eyes. He came upon an open space, felt the fresh wind on his +face and lost consciousness. + + * * * * * + +Late at night he came to his senses. A storm was raging over the +forest; he saw that he was lying on a bed of green boughs, in an +empty room of the disused farm, lit by a small lantern. A man was +bending over him. Jean realised that it was a French keeper. His +first sensation of fear was dissipated by the man's welcome smile. + +"Were other shots fired?" he inquired. + +"No, no others." + +"So much the better; then Uncle Ulrich is safe--he accompanied me to +the frontier. I was in the army, but I have come to be a soldier in +our own land." + +Jean saw that his tunic had been taken off and that there was blood +on his shirt. It hurt him to breathe. + +"What's wrong with me?" he asked. + +"You were hit in the shoulder," said the man, who would have wept if +he had not been too ashamed to do so. "It'll heal; fortunately, my +comrade and I were making our rounds when you stumbled into the +field. The doctor will be here at break of day--don't be alarmed, my +comrade has gone to fetch him. Who are you?" + +Half conscious, Jean Oberlé replied: "Alsace----" but he could +scarcely speak. + +Rain was falling heavily; it hammered upon roof and doors, upon the +trees and rocks surrounding the house. The tops of the trees shook +and twisted in the storm like seaweed tossed upon the bosom of the +ocean. The murmur of a million voices rose in harmony over the +mountains, and thundered upon the night. + +The wounded man listened--in his weakened state what did he hear? He +smiled: + +"It is France," he murmured; "she sings to me," and he fell back +with closed eyes awaiting the dawn. + + +_Printed by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury, +England._ + + + + +List of corrections: + +Page 137: Bateliers instead of Bateliels (Quay des Bateliers). +Page 145: Temperament instead of Temparament (all that his + temperament allowed him) +Page 198; Alberschweiler instead of Albertchweiles (But at + Alberschweiler they have forbidden) + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Children of Alsace, by René Bazin + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CHILDREN OF ALSACE *** + +***** This file should be named 34957-8.txt or 34957-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/9/5/34957/ + +Produced by Hélène de Mink and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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