"My uncle knelt down."         [Page 75 ]




MADAME THERESE;
OR,
THE VOLUNTEERS OF'92.
BY
MM. ERCKIANN-CHATRIAN.
TBANSLATED FROM THE THIRTEENTH EDITION.
With ten full page Illustrations.
FOURTH THOUSAND.
NEW YORK:
CHARLES SCRIBNER AND COMPANY.
1869




Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868,
By CHARLES SCRIBNER AND COMPANY,
In the Clerk's office of the District Court of the United States for the
Southern District of New York.




PUBLISHERS' NOTE.
THE preface to Madame Th&rdse, by Col. T. W. HIoGIN.
soN, will give the reader of this graphic story a very satisfactory account of MM. ERCEMANN and CHAnTBI, whose
productions are now, for the first time, formally introduced to the American public. Miss CHABLOTTE L. 3FoTEN has performed the'work of translation with an accuracy
and spirit which will, undoubtedly, be appreciated by all
acquainted with the original.
The Conscript, which is already in press, will be issued
shortly, and the other volumes of the series will follow as
rapidly as the popular interest in them may warrant.








PREFA CE.
TuE name Erckmann-Chatrian passed until lately,
even in France, for that of a single author. At
last, however, better lenses have "resolved," in
astronomical phrase, this double star. Meanwhile
the novels bearing this name have been more and
more read in America as well as in France. Their
quiet, clear-cut execution has proved an agreeable
relief from the merely sensational; and with all
their calmness of tone they have been thought
formidable to the dynasty of Napoleon.
These twin authors have been friends from college days, and their literary union is said first
to have been advised by one of their professors,
who discovered their talents, and saw that each
had what the other needed. While yet at college
they wrote a drama, called    "Schinderhannes,"
founded on the legend of the Robber of the Rhine.




8                 PREFACE.
It was published in a provincial newspaper, just
before the revolution of 1848; and its character
may be safely inferred from the subject and the
date.
After their graduation, M. Erckmann came to
Paris to study law, and tried in vain to secure
employment from the journals. M. Chatrian became
a professor in Phalsbourg College. But they still
worked together, and wrote a drama, "L'Alsace en
1814," which was performed at the Strasbourg
Theatre in 1848, with such eminent success as to
be at once suppressed by the government. The
local newspaper then published a series of stories
by them, which were afterward collected into a
volume, but fell dead from the press.
They then prepared a new edition of "Schinderhannes," which was accepted by the Ambigu Comique. The insurrection of June occurred soon after,
when the manager thought it dangerous to bring
out the play, and requested alterations. These they
refused to make, and withdrew their composition.
In 1850, M. Chatrian resigned his professorship, and came to Paris. They were both, at this
period, very poor, and are said to have offered
their works in vain to sixty different publishers.
At last, "L'Artiste" published a short story, whoso




PREFACE.                    9
title was followed by this note: " A Story by Erckmann, translated from  the German by Chatrian,
with a Sketch of Erckmann's Life." This was followed by other brief stories, in the same periodical.
At last, the "Revue de Paris" accepted from
them  a novel, "L'Illustre Docteur Matheus," and
published it eighteen months afterward. They received eight hundred francs for the first publication,
and then sold the work to MK Bourdillat, the
publisher, for four hundred francs more. From that
time (1859) their career became an easy one; and
M. Chatrian, at least, has not been entirely dependent on his literary labors, having a clerkship in
the Eastern Railway.
There has rarely been a more perfect literary
twinship than between these authors. THkeiiOpltographs, which have reached this cocmtry, show
them sometimes separately, sometimes together.
It is curious to observe how  their joint photographs are fused into a common expression,-an
Erckmann-Chatrian look, so to say,-while their
separate pictures show no mutual resemblance at all.
It is singularly hard to collect facts in regard
to contemporary French authors, and most of these
incidents are taken from the admirable French
Correspondence of the American Literary Gazette.




10                    PREFACE.
It may be well to add, also, a pen-and-ink sketch
of these writers, translated by the same correspondent from a Paris journal:
" Erckmann, the eldest of the pair, is round and blond;
he shelters behind spectacles eyes which are sometimes
sparkling and sometimes lost in reveries. He is beginning
to be bald; what hair he has is massed behind his ears.
His face vaguely reminds one of the structure of a violin.
His thick chin is creased by little fleshy pads; his nose
is big at the end, and lords it over a delicate mouth
whose corners are turned down like those of all thinkers.
He is at the same time very gentle and very violent, of
a most sanguine temperament, with the voice of Boanerges,
but speaking with method and circumspection, and delicate
in his expressions. He has in his veins a tincture of
gypsy, careless, vagabond blood, but he is an artist to
the heart's core. He is a musician every inch of him;
but it is in his heart and in his head melody sings, for
he has never entered an opera-house. He buys every morning ten cents' worth of tobacco and a new pipe. Chatrian's
physiognomy reminds one of the elder Dumas, at least by
his immense head of hair. He is short, thick-set, broadbacked, calm in his lion's strength. He moves slowly,
but vigor pierces through his carelessness. His rich-bodied
baritone voice throws the right word in a decisive manner. He is the clearest, firmest, and at the same time
simplest talker I ever met. A black, thick, straight head
of hair rises like an arch above a broad and polished forehead. His eyes nab the person addressing or listening to




PREFACE.                      11
him. His admirably carved nose rests on a thick, short,
brus'h-like moustache. He has a large mouth, and lips
colored with a violet red. He is a spare man, about falling
a victim to the obesity of office-life. There is in every.
thing about Chatrian a franlkess, a thoughtfulness, a decision,
and a virility which quite caeies one away. That man is
incapable of anything little or mean: probity, dignity, and
honor breathe in everything he says. -These intellectual
brothers scrupulously keep themselve-aloaJ from all literary
or other coteries. They fly, like the plague, the mere
petty local Parisian esprit, the demi-monde, chatterboxes, and
the mechanics of literature. Hand-in-hand alone they follow their path; the antechamber of newspapers never sees
their faces. They work always and everywhere. This is
their method. Every morning, before Chatrian goes to his
desk in the Eastern Railway, they cut out the day's task
while they are at breakfast. When they meet again in the
evening at dinner, each communicates to the other the ideas
he has collected. These are discussed, compared, winnowed;
and they select the plot, invent the incidents and turn of
the novel on which they are at work. In this way it is
completed. When it is ended, each in turn reads the proofsheets, modifies, comments on them, and communicates his
suggestions to the other.  This partial revision ended,
they proceed to the great, general, and last inspection,
after which the book is published."
It is as historical novelists that MM. Erckmann-Chatrian especially shine.     There is a mingled earnestness and naivete about these books




12                 PREFA CE.
which is singularly attractive; the greatest events
are seen through a perfectly translucent medium.
In their pages, some country boy looks on at
the movements of armies and nations, with gaze
as simple as if he were watching the sun rise or
set above his native village. That rural life of
France, which is so hid from us Americans behind the glare of Paris, fills these books with a
pure and healthful atmosphere. You see the great
world through innocent eyes. There is nothing so
hard, perhaps, as to be thoroughly simple in fiction; the simplicity of Lamartine, for instance, is
apt to turn out, on second thoughts, the extreme
of affectation; but here is a simplicity that is
genuine, noble, uncloying. These are among the
few French novels that do not leave (as Charlotte
Bronte said) a bad taste in one's mouth.
It remains only to say that the translation has
been made with care and conscientiousness, and will
be found, it is believed, better than the average
of such literary work.
T. W. H.




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGs
I.-" MY UNCLE KNELT DOWN,"........ Frontispiece
II.-" YOU HAVE NOT SEEN ANT AUSTRIANS NEAR HERE?"... 36
IIL-MADAME THERESE,.......,....,..  42
IV.-DR. JACOB WAGNE,............... 72
V.-"SO MOLE-CATCHER, THE NIGHT HAS PASSED WELL,"... 101
VI.-" SHOULDER ARaMI"............... 129
VII.-"IT WAS OUR FRIEND KOFFEL,"..........       148
VI.-KAROLUS RICHTER AND JOSEPH SPICE,.......      166
IX.-" MADAME THERESE HAD BECOME VERY THOUGHTFUL,".. 209
X,-"HE WOULD MOUNT HIS HORSE VEBY THOUGHTFULLY,".  235








MADAME THEIRSE.
WE lived in profound quiet in the village of
Anstatt, in the midst of the German Vosges,my uncle, Dr. Jacob Wagner, his old servant
Lisbeth, and I.  After the death of his sister
Christine, Uncle Jacob had taken me to live with
him. I was nearly ten years old; fair, fresh and
rosy as a cherub. I used to wear a cotton cap,
a little brown velvet jacket made of a pair of my
uncle's old breeches, gray linen pantaloons, and
wooden shoes adorned on the top by a tuft of
wool.
They called me little Fritzel in the village, and




14           MADAME THERESE.
every evening when Uncle Jacob returned from
his visits he used to take me on his knee, and
teach me to read, in French, from Buffon's Natural
History.
It seems to me as if I were still in our low
room, with its ceiling crossed by beams blackened with smoke. I see on my left, the little
entry door and the oaken chest of drawers; on
the right, the alcove closed by a curtain of green
serge; in the back part of the room, the entrance to the kitchen, near the cast-iron stove,
with heavy mouldings representing the twelve
months of the year; and toward the street the
two little windows, hung with vine leaves,< that
opened on the square of La Fontaine.
I see my Uncle Jacob also, a slender man,
his high forehead crowned with beautiful fair hair,
which clustered gracefully around his prominent
temples, —his nose slightly aquiline, his eyes
blue, with a chin rounded, and lips tender and
kind. He wears black frieze breeches, and a skyblue coat with copper buttons. Seated in his
leathern arm-chair, he is reading with his elbows
on the table, and the sunlight makes the shadows
of the vine leaves play upon his face, which is
somewhat long, and tanned by exposure.




MADAME THEIRSE. 1i
He was a kind-hearted man, and a lover of peace;
nearly forty years old, and considered the best physician in the neighborhood. I have learned since,
that he busied himself a great deal in theorizing about
universal brotherhood, and that the bundle of books
which Fritz the carrier brought him from time to
time treated of this important matter.
All this I see, not forgetting Lisbeth, a good old
dame, smiling and wrinkled, in a blue linen short
gown and petticoat, who sits in a corner and
spins; nor do I forget the cat Roller, who
dreams, seated on her tail, behind the stove, her
great yellow eyes opened in thb gloom like an
owl's.
It seems to me that I have only to cross the
lane to slip into the orchard, with its delicious
fragrance; only to climb the wooden staircase to
reach my room where I let loose the tomtits that
Hans Aden the shoemaker's son, and I, had caught
in snares. Some were blue and some were green.
Little Eliza Meyer, the burgomaster's daughter,
often came to see them and to ask me about them.
When Hans Aden, Ludwig, Frantz Sepel, Karl
Stenger and I led the cows and goats to pasture,
on the Birkenwald hill, Eliza always pulled my
jacket and said:




16           MADAME THERESE.
"Fritzel, let me lead your cow-don't send me
off."
And I would give her my whip, and we would
make a fire on the turf and roast potatoes in the
ashes. Oh, the good old times! How calm, how
peaceful was everything around us! How regularly
all went on! Nothing disturbed our quiet Monday,
Tuesday, Wednesday; every day     of the week
passed exactly like every other day.
Every day we rose at the same hour, dressed,
and sat down to the good porridge prepared by
Lisbeth. Then my uncle went away on horseback,
and I went out to set traps and snares for the
thrushes, sparrows, or greenfinches,-according to
the season. At noon we met again, and for dinner
had bacon and cabbage and noudels or kncepfels.
After dinner I went to the pasture to look after
my traps, or to bathe in the Queich when it was
warm. In the evening we had good appetites, and
at the table thanked God for his goodness.
Every day, when supper was nearly over, and
it began to grow dark in the room, a heavy step
crossed the passage, the door opened, and on the
threshold appeared a short, thick, squarely-built,
broad-shouldered man, wearing a large felt hat.
"Good evening, doctor."




MADAME THERESE.                 17
"Be seated, mole-catcher," my uncle would reply.
"Lisbeth, open the kitchen door."
Lisbeth pushed open the door, and the red flame
dancing on the hearth showed us the mole-catcher
standing opposite the table, watching our supper
with his little gray eyes. He looked just like a
field-rat with his long nose, small mouth, retreating
chin, straight ears, and thin, bristling, yellow moustache.  His gray linen frock only reached partly
down his back, and his great red waistcoat with deep
pockets hung loosely over his hips.  His immense
shoes,covered with yellow earth, had large nails in
them, which looked in front like shining claws all
around his thick soles.
He looked fifty years old; his hair was turning
gray, his ruddy forehead was deeply wrinkled, and
his eyebrows, white with streaks of yellow, hung
over his eyes.
He was always in the fields, setting his traps, or
at the door of his apiary on the hill-side in the
heath of the Birkenwald, with his wire mask and
great linen mittens, and the broad sharp-edged
spoon with which he took the honey from the
hives. At the close of autumn he would leave the
village for a month, his wallet on his back, a
large pot of honey on one side, and on the other




18           MADAME THERESE.
cakes of yellow wax which he sold to the clergy
in the neighborhood, for their wax tapers.  Such
was the mole-catcher.
After looking steadily at the table for a time,
he would say, "There is cheese-and there are
nuts."
"Yes," my uncle would answer, "at your service."
"Thanks! I would rather smoke my pipe now."
Then he would draw from his pocket a black pipe
with a copper lid and chain attached; fill it with
care,-still looking at us,-go into the kitchen, take
a burning coal in the hollow of his hard hand, and
place it on the tobacco. I see him, now, with his
ratolike face, his nose upturned, blowing great
puffs before the gloomy fire-place, then coming
back and seating himself in the shadow at the
corner of the stove, with his legs crossed. Besides moles and bees, honey and wax, the molecatcher had another serious occupation:-he predicted the future by means of the flight of birds,
the abundance of grasshoppers and caterpillars,
and certain traditions inscribed in a large book
with wooden covers which he had inherited from
an old aunt in Heming, and which informed him
of future events. But he would not enter upon the




MADAME THERESE.                19
subject unless Koffel were present,-Koffel the
joiner, the turner, the watchmaker, the shearer of
dogs, and healer of animals;-in short, the finest
genius of Anstatt, and the neighborhood. Koffel
was a Jack of all trades. He wired broken crockery, tinned saucepans, repaired damaged furniture, and even the organ, when the pipes or bellows were out of order; and Uncle Jacob had been
obliged to forbid his setting broken arms and legs,
for he had also a talent for surgery, he thought.
The mole-catcher admired him very much, sometimes
saying, "What a shame that Koffel has not studied! What a shame!" And all the gossips in
the place thought him a universal genius. But
all this did not "make the pot boil," and the surest of his resources after all was to cut cabbage
for sour-krout in autumn, carrying his tool-chest
on his back wallet-fashion, and crying from door
to door, "Any cabbage? Any cabbage?"
Such is the fate of genius. Koffel, diminutive,
meagre, with his black beard and hair, and his
sharp nose pointed like the beak of a teal, was
not long in coming-his hands in the pockets
of his little short jacket, a cotton cap far back
on his head, with the point between his shoulders, and his breeches and coarse blue stockings




20           MADAME THERESE.
spotted with glue, hanging loosely on his thin
wiry legs, his old shoes cut in several places to
make room for his bunions. He came in a few
minutes after the mole-catcher, and approaching
the table with short steps, said gravely:
"A good appetite to you, doctor."
"Will you   not share  our meal with    us?"
asked my uncle.
"Many thanks. We had salad, to-night; that
is what I like best."
Saying this, Koffel would seat himself behind
the stove, and never stir until my uncle said,
"Light the candle, Lisbeth, and take away the
cloth."
Then he filled his pipe in his turn, and drew
near the stove. They talked of the weather, the
crops, etc. The mole-catcher had set so many
traps that day, had turned oft the water from
such a meadow during the storm, or else he
had taken so much honey from the hives; the
bees would soon swarm; they were getting ready,
and he was preparing beforehand baskets to receive the young.
Koffel was always pondering over some invention; he told of his clock without weights, from
which the twelve apostles would come out at the




MADAME THERESE.                21
stroke of noon, while the cock crowed, and death
mowed with his scythe; or of his plough, which
would go alone, wound up like a clock, or some
other wonderful discovery. My uncle would listen
gravely, nodding his head in approval, but thinking meanwhile of his patients. In summer, the
women of the neighborhood, seated on the stone
bench under the open windows, chatted with Lisbeth about household matters. One had woven so
many yards of linen in the winter; the hens of
another had laid so many eggs that day, and so
on.
For myself, I seized a favorable moment to run
off to Klipfel's forge, whose fire shone far off, at
night, at the end of the village. There I always
met Hans Aden, Frantz Sepel and several others.
We watched the sparks flying from the heated iron
under the strokes of the hammer; we whistled
to the sound of the anvil. If a quiet old horse
came to be shod, we helped to hold up his leg.
Some of the older boys made themselves sick trying
to smoke walnut leaves. Others boasted of going
every Sunday to the dance. These were fifteen
or sixteen years old. They wore their hats on one
side, and smoked with an important air, with their
hands deep down in their pockets. At ten o'clock




22           MADAME THERESE.
we separated, and everybody went home.    Most
days passed thus, but Mondays and Fridays, the
Frankfort Gazette came, and then the gatherings
at our house were large. Besides the mole-catcher
and Koffel came our burgomaster Christian Meyer,
and M. Karolus Richter, the grandson of an old
valet of Count Salm-Salm's. None of these people
would subscribe for the Gazette, but they liked to
hear it read for nothing.
How often since then I have called to mind the
burly burgomaster, with his red ears, wearing a
woolen jacket and cotton nightcap, sitting in the
arm-chair-my uncle's accustomed seat. He seemed
to be thinking profoundly, but was really intent
upon remembering the news to impart to his
wife, the excellent Barbara, who ruled the parish
in his name. And the great Karolus, a sort
of grey-hound in hunting-coat and cap of boiled
leather, the greatest usurer in the country, who
looked down upon all the peasants from the height
of his grandeur because his grandfather had been a
lackey of Salm-Salm; who thought he did you a
great favor in smoking your tobacco, and talked
incessantly of parks and preserves, great hunts,
and the rights and privileges of my Lord SalmSalm. How many times have I seen him in my




MADAME THERESE.               23
dreams, matching up and down our room, listening,
frowning, suddenly plunging his hand into the great
pocket of my uncle's coat, for his tobacco, filling
his pipe, and lighting it at the candle, saying,
"By your leave." All these things I see again.
Poor Uncle Jacob! how good-natured he was to
let his tobacco be smoked! But he paid no attention, apparently, so absorbed was he in the day's
neivs. The Republicans were invading the Palatinate; were descending the Rhine. They dared to
defy the three Electors, King William of Prussia, and the Emperor Joseph. Their audacity
astonished our circle. M. Richter said this state
of things could not last; these wicked beggars
would be exterminated to the last man. When my
uncle finished, he would make some judicious reflection. As he refolded the paper he would say:
" Let us thank God that we live in the midst of
the forest rather than in the vineyards-on the
bleak mountain rather than in the fertile plain.
These Republicans can hope for no plunder here;
this is our security. We can sleep in peace. But
how many are exposed to their ravages! They do
everything by force; but no good ever comes of
force. They talk to us of love, equality and liberty, but they do not apply these principles. They




24           MADAME THERESE.
trust to their arms, and not to the justice of their
cause. Long ago, before their time, others came
to deliver the world. They struck no blows, they
took no lives, they died by thousands, and their
symbol in all succeeding ages has been the lamb,
devoured by wolves. One would think that not
even a single memorial of these men would remain.
Well, they conquered the world; they conquered
not the body, but the soul of man. And the soul
is all. Why do not these men follow their example?"
Karolus Richter immediately rejoined, with a
contemptuous air:
"Why? because they laugh at souls and envy
the powerful of the earth. And besides, these Republicans are atheists, every man of them. They
respect neither throne nor tltar. They have overturned the established order of things from the
beginning of time. They will have no more nobility; as if the nobility were not the very essence
of things on earth and in heaven; as if it were
not acknowledged by mankind that some were
born to be slaves and others to be rulers; as if
we did not see this order established even in nature. The mosses are beneath the grass, the grass
beneath the bushes, the bushes beneath the trees,




MADAME THERESE.                 25
and the trees beneath the starry sky. Just so are
the peasants under the merchants, the merchants
under the gownsmen, the gownsmen under the
military nobles, the military nobles under the king,
the king under the pope, represented by his cardinals, archbishops, and bishops. This is the
natural order of things. A thistle can never grow
to the height of an oak; a peasant can never
wield the sword like the descendant of an illustrious race of warriors. These Republicans have
obtained transient success, because they have surprised everybody by their incredible audacity and
their want of common sense. In denying all doctrines and all acknowledged rules, they have stupefied reasonable men-hence these disorders. Just
as sometimes an ox or a bull stops suddenly, then
flies at the sight of a rat which unexpectedly comes
up from the ground before him, so are our soldiers
astounded and even put to flight by such audacity. But this cannot last, and after the first
surprise is over, I am very sure that our old
generals of the Seven Years War will defeat utterly this disorderly crowd of wretches, and that
not one of them will return to his unfortunate
country."
Having said this, Mf. Karolus relighted his pipe,
2




26           MA DAMSE THEkESE.
and continued his walk up and down with long
strides, his hands behind him, and a self-satisfied air.
All reflected upon what they had just heard
and the mole-catcher finally spoke in his turn.
"All that ought to happen, happens," said he.
"Since these Republicans have driven away their
lords, and. their priests, it was so ordained in
heaven from the beginning of time;'God willed
it.' Now, whether they return or not depends
upon what the Lord God wills. If He chooses
to raise the dead, that depends on Him    alone.
But last year, as I watched my bees working, I
saw, all of a sudden, these little gentle and pretty
creatures fall upon the drones, sting them and
drag them out of the hive. These drones produce the young, and the bees keep them       so
long as the hive needs them, but then they kill
them. It is abominable; but. nevertheless it is
written! Seeing this, I thought of these Republicans. They are disposed to kill their drones;
but be tranquil; we can't live without them;
others will come. They must be feathered and
fed  anew; after that the bees will get angry
again, and kill them  by hundreds.   We think
they are exterminated, but more will come, and




MADA ME THEIRESE.              27
so it goes on.   It must be so!    It must be
so!"
Then the mole-catcher shook his head, and M
Karolus, stopping in the midst of his walk,
cried:
"Whom   do you call drones? The true drones
are the conceited reptiles, who believe themselves
capable of anything, and not the nobles and
priests."
"Begging your pardon, M. Richter," replied
the mole-catcher, "the drones are those who
wish to do nothing and to enjoy everything;
those who, without rendering any service except
buzzing around the queen, wish to be generously provided for. They are cared for, but at
last, it is written, they must be cast out.  It
has happened thousands of times and it must
happen always. The working bees, orderly and
economical, cannot support creatures that are
good for nothing. It is unfortunate-it is sad.
But so it is. When we make honey we like to
keep it for ourselves."
"You are a Jacobin!" cried Karolus, angrily.
"No, on the contrary, I am    a merchant of
Anstatt, a mole-catcher and raiser of bees. I
love my country as well as you. I would sacri



28           MADAME THERESE.
fice myself for her, perhaps, sooner than you
would. But I am forced to say that the true
drones are those who do nothing, and the
true bees those who work, for I have seen it a
hundred times."
"Ah," cried Karolus Richter, "I wager that
Koffel has the same ideas as you!"
Then the little joiner, who had said nothing,
replied, winking one eye:
"M. Karolus, if I had the happiness of being
the grandson of a servant of Yeri-Peter or
Salm-Salm, and if I had inherited great wealth
which would support me in abundance and idleness, then I should say that the drones are the
workers, and the   bees the  lazy  ones.  But,
situated as I am, I have need of everybody's
help, and so I say nothing. I am   silent. Only
I think that every one ought to have what he
earns by his labor."
"My dear friends," said   my uncle, gravely,
"we will not speak of these things, for we cannot
understand them.   Peace! peace! that is what
we must have.    It is peace that makes men
prosper, and puts them all in their true place.
In  war bad   instincts prevail; murder, rapine
and the rest.  Besides, all men who lead bad




MADA ME THERESE.               29
lives love war; it is the only way they can appear to be anything.   In. time of peace, they
would be nothing; we would see too easily
through their thoughts, their tricks and their desires.  Man has been created by God for peace,
for labor, the love of his family, and the like.
But since war opposes all these it is truly a scourge.
The clock has struck ten; we could discuss the
subject until to-morrow morning without understanding it better. I propose, therefore, that we
go to bed."
Then everybody rose, and the burgomaster,
placing his two great hands on the arm of his
chair, cried:
"God grant that neither the Republicans, nor
Prussians, nor Imperialists pass through here, for
they are all hungry and thirsty. And as it is
more agreeable to drink our own wine than to
see it swallowed by others, I would rather learn
these things from the papers than see them with
my own eyes. That is what I think."
With this remark, he moved toward the door;
the others followed.
"Good-night," said my uncle.
"Good-night," replied the mole-catcher, disappearing- in the dark street.




30           MADAME THERESE.
The door was closed, and my careful uncle
said to me:
"Go to bed, Fritzel. Pleasant dreams."
"And you, too, uncle," I answered.
Lisbeth and I mounted the staircase. A quarter of an hour afterwards perfect silence reigned
in the house.




II.
ONE Friday evening, in the month of November,
1793, Lisbeth, after supper, was kneading the
dough to make bread for the household, as
usual. As it was to be used for cakes and apple-pies also, I kept near her in the kitchen, and
as I watched her, gave myself up to the pleasantest dreams.  When the dough was kneaded
yeast was added, the kneading-trough carefully scraped, and a thick covering was spread
over it, to let it ferment. Then Lisbeth scattered blazing coals from the hearth inside the
oven, and pushed into it with the poker three
great dry fagots, which soon began to blaze
under the dark vaulted roof. Finally, when the
fire was lighted, she closed the door of the oven
and turned to me:




32          MADAME THERESE.
"Now, Fritzel, let us go to bed; to-morrow,
when you wake up, there will be a pie for
you."
We went up to our rooms. Uncle Jacob had
been snoring for an hour in his alcove. I went
to bed thinking of pies and cakes, and fell sound
asleep immediately. I had slept for some hours,
but it was still night, and the moon was shining brightly into my little window, when I was
aroused by a strange tumult. It seemed as if
the whole village were in commotion; doors
were slamming in the distance; many footsteps
were splashing through the muddy pools of the
street; and I heard, too, people moving about in
our house, and saw the purple reflection of lights
on my window-panes. My alarm may be imagined. After listening awhile, I got quietly up,
and opened a window. The street was full of
people, and not only the street but the garden,
and by-streets. I saw only large men with immense cocked hats, long blue coats with red
facings, wide white belts, and large queues hanging down their backs, carrying sabres and cartridge-boxes, which I had never seen before.
They had stacked their guns before our barn.
Two sentinels guarded them. The others had




MADAME THERESE.                33
already made themselves at home in the houses
In the stable three horses pawed the ground.
Before Sepel's butcher shop, across the way, from
the hooks in the wall on which calves were hung
to be skinned, a whole ox was hanging,-his head
and back dragging on the ground,-in the blaze of
a great fire which lighted up the square. A man
with his shirt-sleeves rolled up over his brawny
arms was skinning him. He had cut him entirely
open, and the blood was running and mixing with
the mire of the street. The face of this man, with
his bare throat and unkempt hair, was -terrible to
see.
I understood at once that the Republicans had
unexpectedly entered the village, and while I was
dressing I invoked the aid of the Emperor
Joseph, of whom   M. Karolus Richter so often
spoke. The French had arrived during our first
sleep, at least two hours before; for as I went
down stairs I saw three of them, in their shirtsleeves, like the butcher, taking the bread from
our oven with the shovel. They had spared
Lisbeth the trouble of baking, as their companions had spared Sepel the trouble of butchering.
These men could do anything. Nothing embarrassed them.  Lisbeth, seated in a corner, her
2*




34           MADAME THERESE.
hands crossed on her knees, watched them quite
peacefully.  Her first terror was over.  Seeing
me at the head of the stairs, she called out:
"Fritzel, come  down.  They will not hurt
you."
Then I went down, and the men kept at their
work without noticing me. The passage-door on
the left was open, and I saw two more Republicans in the orchard mixing dough for a second or third batch of bread. Through the halfopen door of the sitting-room, on the right, I
saw Uncle Jacob sitting at the table, while a
robust man, with large red whiskers, pug nose,
projecting eyebrows, ears standing out from  his
head, and a tow-colored wig hanging down his
back in a queue as thick as one's arm, was installed in the arm-chair, devouring one of our
hams with evident relish. I could see his strong
brown hands plying the knife and fork, and his
muscular jaws moving. From   time to time he
raised his glass, took a good draught, and went
on.
He wore lead-colored epaulettes, a large sabre,
in a leathern sheath, whose guard rose behind
his elbow, and boots which were hardly visible
for the yellow mud which was beginning to dry




I I
MADAME THERESE.                35
upon them. From his hat on the sideboard,
drooped red plumes which waved in the wind;
for notwithstanding the cold, the windows were
wide open.   An armed sentinel paced up and
down before them, stopping occasionally to glance
at the table.
While carving the ham the man with large
whiskers spoke roughly to my uncle.
"So you are a physician?"
"Yes, monsieur le commandant."
"Call me simply colonel, or citizen colonel. I
have already told you that'monsieur' and'madame' are out of fashion. But to return to our
subject. You ought to know the country; a
country physician is always on the road. How
far are we from Kaiserslautern?"
"Seven leagues, Colonel."
"And from Pirmasens?"
"About eight."
"And from Landau?"
"Five good leagues, I believe."
"'I believe'-' nearly'-' about'-is it thus a
native of the country ought to speak? Listen:
you look as if you were afraid. You are afraid
that if the white coats should come this way,
they would hang you for the information you




36           MADAME THERESE.
give us. You may put that idea out of your
head; you are under the protection of the French
Republic." And looking Uncle Jacob in the face
with his gray eyes: "To the health of the Republic, one and indivisible!" he cried, lifting his
glass.
They touched glasses, and my uncle, very pale,
drank to the Republic.
"How is it," said the other, "you have.ot
seen any Austrians near here?"
"No, Colonel."
"Are you very sure of it? Look me straight
in the face."
"I have not seen any."
"Did you not make a journey to Reethal,
lately?"
My uncle had been to Reethal three days before. He thought that some one in the village
had told the Colonel, and answered,
"Yes, Colonel."
"So; and were there no Austrians there?"
"~No."
The Republican emptied his glass, casting a sidelong glance at Uncle Jacob; then stretched out
his arm, and took him   by the wrist, with a
strange expression.




{{:{~  lill'l'                II,:  1  I 
You have not seen any Austrians near here?      [Page 36.]








MADAME THERESE.                37
"You say there were none?"
"Yes, Colonel."
"Well, you lie, then!" and in a slow voice he
added: -" We do not hang, but sometimes we
shoot those who deceive us!"
My uncle's face became still paler, but he held
up his head, and repeated in a firm tone:
"Colonel, I swear to you on my honor that
there were no Imperialists at Reethal three days
ago."
"And I," cried the Republican, his small gray
eyes flashing under their thick, tawny brows,
"I tell you that they were there! Is that plain?"
There was a silence. All in the kitchen had
turned round; the Colonel's. manner was not
reassuring. I began to cry, and even went into
the room, as if I could help Uncle Jacob, and
placed myself behind him. The Republican looked
at us, frowningly, which did not prevent him from
swallowing another mouthful of ham, as if to
give himself time for thought. Outside, Lisbeth
sobbed aloud.
"Colonel," said my uncle, firmly, "perhaps you
do not know that there are two Reethals, one
on the road to Kaiserslautern, and the other on
the Queich, three short leagues from Landau;




38           MADAME THERISE.
the Austrians may have been at the lower one,
but at the other, they had not been seen Wednesday evening."
"So!" said the Commandant, in bad Lorraine
German, with a jeering smile, "that may be.
But we from   the country between Bitche and
Sarreguemines, are as knowing as you. Unless
you can prove to me that there are two Reethals,
I will tell you that it is my duty to have you
arrested, and tried by a court-martial."
"Colonel," cried my uncle, stretching out his
arm, "the proof that there are two Reethals is
that they are to be found on all the mapg of
the country."
He pointed to our old map, hanging on the
wall.: The Republican turned round, and looking
at it, said:
"Ah, it is a map of the country! Let us examine it a little."
My uncle took the map down, and spreading
it on the table, showed him the two villages.
"It is true," said the Colonel. "Well and good;
I ask nothing better than to see a thing plainly."
He leaned his elbows on the table, and with
his large head between his hands, looked at the
map.




MADAME THERESE.                32
"Hold, hold! this is famous!" he said; "where
did this map come from?"
"My father made it. He was a mathematician."
The Republican smiled.
"Yes; the woods, the rivers, the roads, all are
marked," said he. "I recognize that we passed
that place-it is good-very good!" Then straightening himself up: "You have no use for this
map, citizen doctor," said he in German. "I need
it, and I put it in requisition for the service of
the Republic. Well, well, I beg your pardon.
Let us have one drink more in honor of the
Republic."
We can imagine with what eagerness Lisbeth
went down into the cellar to find another bottle. Uncle Jacob had recovered his confidence.
The Colonel, looking at me, asked:
"Is that your son?"
"No, he is my nephew."
"A well-built little fellow. It pleased me to
see him come in just now to your aid. Come
here, close," he said, drawing me to him by the
arm. He passed his hand through my hair, and
said, in a voice a little harsh, but kindly: "Bring
up this boy in the love of the rights of man.




40           MADAME THERESE.
Instead of taking care of cows, he may become
colonel, or general, as well as anybody else. Now
all the doors are open; any position can be
taken. One need only have heart and luck to
succeed. I, such as you see me, am the son of
a blacksmith of Sarreguemines; but for the Republic, I should still hammer the anvil; our great
lanky fellow of a count, who is with the white
coats, would be an eagle by the grace of God,
and I should be an ass. Instead of this, it is
all the other way, thanks to the Revolution."
He emptied his glass brusquely, and half shutting his eyes with a crafty expression, added:
"That makes a little difference."
On the table, beside the ham, was one of our
short-cakes which the Republicans had baked with
the first batch of bread. He cut a piece for me,
and said, very good-humoredly,
"Eat this boldly and try to become a man. Then
turning toward the kitchen, "Sergeant Lafleche!"
roared he, in a voice of thunder.
An old sergeant with gray moustaches, dry as
a salt herring, appeared in the doorway.
"How many loaves, Sergeant?"
"Forty."
"In an hour we must have fifty; with our




MADAME TH1ERkSE.               41
ten ovens, five hundred,-three pounds of bread
for each man."
The Sergeant went back to the kitchen. My
uncle and I observed all this without moving.
The Colonel again bent over the map, his head
between his hands. Day began to dawn. The
armed sentinel was still pacing up and down
before our windows. Silence prevailed. Many of
the soldiers were sleeping, their heads on their
knapsacks, around the large fires which they had
kindled; others were in the houses. The clock
ticked slowly; the fire still sparkled in the kitchen.
But in a few moments, a great noise arose in
the street; window-panes crashed; a door was
thrown open noisily, and we heard our neighbor,
Joseph Spick, cry, "To the rescue! Fire!" But
no one stirred in the village. All were glad to
remain quietly in their own houses. The Colonel
listened.
"Sergeant Lafleche!" cried he. The Sergeant
had gone to see what the matter was. He came
back in a moment. "What has happened?" asked
the Colonel.
"It is an aristocrat of an inn-keeper, who refuses to comply with the requisitions of the
citizen Therese," replied he, gravely.




42           MADAME THERESE.
"Very well! bring him to me."
The Sergeant went out. In a few minutes our
lane was full of people. The door reopened, and
Joseph Spick, in a short jacket, loose linen pantaloons, and a cap of curled wool, appeared between
four armed soldiers of the Republic, with faces
yellow as gingerbread, worn-out hats, ragged elbows,
patched knees, and torn shoes, mended with twine;
all of which did not, however, prevent their holding up their heads high, as proud as kings.
Joseph Spick, his hands in his pockets, shoulders
bent, mouth open, and quaking cheeks, trembled
so that he could hardly stand on his long legs.
He seemed bewildered. Behind him, in the shadow,
the head of a woman, pale and thin, at once
attracted my attention. She had a high forehead,
straight nose, long chin, and blue-black hair,
which drooped in large bands over her temples,
and was braided behind the ears, so that her
face seemed extremely long. Her eyes were large,
and black. She wore a felt hat with the tricolor cockade, and over it a red handkerchief
knotted under the chin. As I had seen, in our
country, only blondes or brunettes, this woman filled
me with astonishment and admiration. Young as
I was, I looked at her amazed. My uncle ap



t~~~
/
ii II: i  E  sr~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I
1~                      I
Madame Th&r~se.        [Page 42.]








MADAME THERERSE.               43
peared no less astonished than I, and after she had
come in, followed by five or six other Republicans,
dressed like the first, we could not take our eyes
off of her.
She wore a large cloak of blue cloth, with
a triple cape falling to the elbows, a little
cask, which was hung over her shoulder, and
around her neck a thick black silk cravat, with
long fringe-doubtless some spoil of war-which
heightened still more the beauty of her calm,
proud face.
The Colonel waited until all had come in,
looking closely at Joseph Spick, who seemed more
dead than alive. Then turning to the woman,
who had just raised her hat, with a movement
of the head, said:
"Well, Therese, what has happened?"
"You know, Colonel, that at the last haltingplace I had not another drop of brandy," said
she, in a firm, clear voice. "My first care on
arriving here, was to go through the village to
find some, intending to pay for it, of course.
But the people hid it all, and it was not until
half an hour ago that I saw the fir-branch on
this man's door. Corporal Merlot, Private Cincinnatus, and Drum-major Horatius Cocles fol



44           MADAME THERESE.
lowed, to help me. We went in and asked for
wine, brandy, or anything of the kind; but the
aristocrat had nothing; he was deaf. Then we
searched the place, and at last found the entrance
to the cellar, in. the wood-house, concealed by a
pile of fagots. We might have quarreled with
him; instead of that, we went down, and found
wine, bacon, sour-krout, and brandy. We filled
our casks, took some bacon, and came up quietly.
But seeing us return thus laden, this man, who
was seated tranquilly in his room, began to cry
for help, and instead of accepting my money,
tore it up, and seizing me by the arm, shook
me with all his strength.  Cincinnatus put his
load on the table, and taking this great fool by
the collar, threw him against the window of his
old house. Then Sergeant Lafleche arrived. That
is all, Colonel."
When she had finished, she withdrew behind
the others, and immediately a little dry man,
thin and brusque, whose hat was on one side,
and who held under his arm a long cane with
a copper knob, shaped like an onion, came forward, and said, pompously:
"Colonel, what Citizen Therese has just communicated is an expression of the indignation




MADAME THERkSE.                45
which one naturally feels at coming in contact
with a senseless aristocrat who thinks"
"Very well," interrupted the Commandant, "the
word  of Citizen  Therese is sufficient."  And
addressing Joseph Spick in German, he said,
frowningly: "Tell me, do you wish to be shot?
It will cost only the trouble of leading you into
your garden. Do you not know that the paper
of the Republic is worth more than the gold of
tyrants? Listen; this time I will pardon you, in
consideration of your ignorance; but if it happens
that you again conceal your provisions, and refuse
to accept our money in payment, I will have you
shot in the village square to serve as an example
to others. Go, then! march, you great idiot!"
He delivered this little harangue very emphatically. Then turning to the cantiniere, said,
"Well, Therese, you can fill your cask; this
man will make no further objections. And you,
soldiers, release him."
They all went out. Therese first, Joseph last.
The poor devil had hardly a drop of blood left
in his veins.  He had just had a narrow escape.
Meanwhile, daylight had come. The Colonel
rose, folded the map, and put it into his pocket.




46           MADAME THERESE.
Then he went to a window and looked out on
the village. My uncle and I looked from the
other window. It was about five o'clock in the
morning.




III.
As long as I live I shall remember that silent
street, filled with sleeping men; some stretched
out, some coiled up, their heads resting on their
knapsacks. I can still see those muddy feet, those
worn-out shoes, and patched coats, those young
faces, tinged with brown, and rigid old faces, with
closed eyelids; the large hats, faded epaulettes, the
cockades, the woolen blankets with ragged red
borders, the gray cloaks, and the straw scattered
in the mud. Then the great silence of their sleep
after the forced march-this absolute repose like
death. All was enveloped in the bluish light of
early morning; the pale sun, rising in a fog, shed
but a sickly light over the little houses with their
large thatched roofs, and small black windows. In
the distance, at both ends of the village, on the
Altenberg, and the Reepockel, above the orchards




48           MADAME THERkSE.
and hemp-fields, the sentinels' bayonets gleamed
among the fading stars. No, I shall never forget
that strange spectacle. I was very young then,
but such memories are eternal.
As the day advanced, the picture became animated. One man raised his head, leaned on his
elbow, and looked round; then yawned, and went
to sleep again. Then an old soldier suddenly
straightened himself, shook the straw from his
clothes, adjusted his felt hat, and folded his ragged
blanket; another rolled up his cloak and buckled
it on his knapsack; a third drew from his pocket
the stump of a pipe, and struck a light. The early
risers had gathered together, and were talking, and
the others joined them, stamping their feet, for it
was cold at that hour, and the fires which had
been lighted in the streets and on the Common
had gone out.
Opposite our house, on the little square, was
the fountain. Some of the Republicans were collected  around  two large moss-covered troughs,
washing themselves, laughing, and chatting pleasantly, notwithstanding  the cold;  others  were
stooping down, drinking with upturned mouths
from the pump.
Then the houses were opened, one by one, and




MADAME THERESE.                49
we saw soldiers coming out from them, stooping
so as not to strike their heads against the low
doorways. Nearly all had their pipes lighted.
To the right of our barn, before Spick's inn,
was stationed the caitiniere's cart, covered with a
large cloth. It had two wheels, like a handbarrow, the shafts lying on the ground.
The mule was behind, covered with an old
woolen horse-blanket of red and blue check, and
had drawn from   our stall a long wisp of hay,
which he chewed gravely with half-closed eyes and
a sentimental air.
The cantiniere was seated at the window mending a little pair of pantaloons, and throwing a
glance from time to time at the shed, where
the drum-major, Horatius Cocles, Cincinnatus,
Merlot, and a tall, thin, dry, jovial fellow, were
seated astride bundles of hay, making each other's
queues.  They   combed   out the   braids, and
smoothed them by spitting on their hands.
Horatius Cocles, who was the head     of the
band, was humming an air, and his comrades repeated the refrain.
Near them against two old casks slept a little drummer, about twelve years old, as fair as
myself, who interested me particularly. It was he




50           MADAME THERLESE.
whom the cantiniere was watching, and doubtless
they were his pantaloons that she was mending.
He was stretched out, his face upturned, his
mouth half-opened, his back against the two
casks and one arm over his drum.   His drumsticks were slipped into his shoulder-belt, and on
his feet, covered with straw, was stretched out a
large, and very dirty spaniel, which kept him warm.
Every moment this dog raised his head and looked
at the boy, as if to say:
"I should like very much to take a tour
among the kitchens of the village!"
But the little one did not stir, he slept so
soundly! When some dogs barked in the distance the spaniel gaped. He would have liked to
be one of the party.
Soon two officers came out of a neighboring
house; two slender young men in tightly-fitting
coats. As they passed the house, the Colonel
cried:
"Duchene! Richer!"
"Good-morning, Colonel," said they, turning
back.
"Are the posts relieved?"
"Yes, Colonel."
"Nothing new?"




MADAME THERESE.                51
"Nothing, Colonel."
"In half an hour we begin our march.
Sound the call, Richer. Come in, Duchene."
One of the officers went in. The other passed
into the shed and said something to Horatius
Cocles. I looked at the new-comer. The Colonel had ordered a bottle of brandy. They were
drinking together, when a hum was heard outside. It was the drum-beat. I ran to see what
was going on. Horatius Cocles, at the head of
five drummers-among whom, on the left, was
the little boy-raising his baton, initiated the
performance, which continued as long as he
held it up.  The Republicans came in from   all
the by-streets of the village, and were ranged
in two lines in front of the fountain, and their
sergeants began the call. My uncle and I were
astonished at the order which prevailed among
these men. When their names were called they
answered so promptly that it seemed as if there
were but one reply from all sides.   They had'
taken their guns, and held them carelessly, on
their shoulders, or with the butt-end on the
ground,-just as they chose.
After the call there was perfect silence, and
then several men from  each comnany were de



52           MADAME THERESE.
cached, under the escort of the corporals, to go
and fetch their bread. Citizen Therese harnessed
her mule to the cart. Some moments afterwards
the squads returned, bringing loaves of bread in
bags and baskets. The distribution began. As
the Republicans had made and eaten soup on
their arrival, they were not hungry, and each
one buckled a loaf to his knapsack.
"Come!" cried the Colonel, in a joyful tone,
"let us move!"
He took his cloak, threw it over his shoulders,
and went out, without saying good-bye to anybody.
We thought we had got rid of these people forever.
As soon as he had gone, the burgomaster
came to entreat Uncle Jacob to go home with him
immediately, as the sight of the Republicans had
made his wife ill.
They went out together. Lisbeth at once arranged the chairs, and swept out the sitting-room.
We could hear the officers' commands outside.
"Forward, march!" The drums sounded. The
cantiniere cried "Hue!" to her mule, and the
battalion was starting, when suddenly a terrible
cracking resounded through the village.  It was




MADAME THERESE.                53
the firing of guns, sometimes several together,then one at a time.
The Republicans were just going into the
street.
"Halt!" cried  the  Colonel, standing in  his
stirrups and looking around, listening attentively.
I went to the window, and saw all these men
attentive, and the officers outside the ranks, gathered around their chief, who was speaking with animation.
Suddenly a soldier appeared at the corner of
the street. He was running with his gun on his
shoulder.
"Colonel," he called out, while still at a distance, quite breathless, "the Croats! The outposts are carried-they are coming!"
He had hardly finished speaking    when  the
Colonel turned back, galloped along the line at
full speed, and cried:
"Form   square!"
The officers, the drummers, and the cantiniere,
all fell back, in front of the fountain, while the
companies crossed each other like the shuffling of a
pack of cards.  In less than a minute they had
formed a square, three deep, with the others in
the middle. Immediately after, a terrible noise




54            MADAME THERESE.
was heard in the street; the Croats were coming; the ground shook. I see them now pouring into the street, their large red cloaks trimmed
with fur floating behind them like banners, and
bending so low in their saddles with their sabres
in front, that one could hardly see the brown
bony faces, with long yellow moustaches.
It seems as if children must be possessed with
the devil, for instead of running to a place of
safety, I staid there, with eyes wide-open to see
the fight. I was very much afraid, it is true,
but curiosity was stronger than fear.
While I looked and trembled, the Croats had
reached the square. Instantly the Colonel cried:
"Fire!"
Then a clap of thunder, then nothing but a
buzzing in my ears.    Each side of the square
turned toward the street had fired at once; our
window-panes were shivered, the smoke came into
the room, with pieces of cartridges, and the smell
of powder filled the air.  I, my hair standing
on end, still looked on, and saw the Croats
on their small horses rush forward in the gray
smoke, fall back, then rush forward again, as if
trying to climb over the square, and others coming up constantly, crying in a savage voice:




MADAME THERESE.                55
"Forward! forward I"
"Fire, the second rank!" cried the Colonel, in
the midst of neighings and ceaseless cries. His
voice was as calm as when he was speaking in our
room. Another clap of thunder followed, and how
the plastering fell, how the tiles rattled from the
roofs, how heaven and earth seemed to mingle!
Lisbeth, in the kitchen, uttered screams so piercing that even in all the tumult they could be heard
like a shrill whistle.
After the fire of the platoon, began the fire of
the file. We could see the guns of the second
rank lower, fire, then rise again, while the first
rank, with their knees bent on the ground, crossed
bayonets, and the third loaded the guns and passed
them to the second. The Croats whirled round
the square  striking from  a distance with their
long sabres. From  time to time a hat fell, sometimes a man. One of the Croats, throwing his
horse back on his haunches, leaped so far that he
cleared the three lines, and fell inside the square.
But then the Republican Colonel threw himself
upon him, and with a furious stroke, nailed him,
so to speak, to the back of his horse. I saw him
withdraw his sabre red to the hilt.  This sight
made me turn cold. I was going to fly, but had




I ~
56           MADAME THERESE.
hardly risen, when the Croats faced about, and
fled, leaving a great number of men and horses
in the square. The horses tried to rise, then fell
again.  Five  or six horsemen lay under their
beasts, trying to free their legs; others, all bloody,
dragged themselves along on all fours, raising their
hands, and crying in a lamentable voice, in their
fear of being killed, "Pardon, Frenchmen!" Some,
not able to endure their sufferings, begged the
favor of being put out of such misery.
Most of them, however, lay motionless. For the
first time, I fully understood what death is; these
men that I had seen two minutes before, full of
life and strength, charging their enemies with
fury, and rushing forward like wolves, lay there,
pell-mell, senseless as the stones of the street.
In the ranks of the Republicans there were also
vacant places, bodies stretched on their faces, and
some wounded, their heads and faces covered with
blood. They bandaged their heads, placing their
guns at'their feet, without leaving the ranks.
Their comrades helped them to bind on a handkerchief, and put the hat above it. The Colonel,
on horseback near the fountain, his large plumed
hat pushed back, and his sabre clenched in his
hand, closed up the ranks; near him were some




MADAME THELRESE.              57
drummers in line, and a little farther on, near the
trough, was the cantiniere with her cask. We
could hear the trumpets of the Croats sounding
the retreat. They had halted at the turn of
the street. One of their sentinels was posted there,
behind the corner of the Town Hall. Only his
horse's head was to be seen. Some guns were
still being fired.
"Cease firing!" cried the Colonel, and all was
silent. We heard only the trumpet in the distance.
The cantiniere then went inside the ranks to pour
out brandy' for the men, while seven or eight
sturdy fellows drew water from the fountain in
their bowls, for the wounded, who begged for
drink in pitiable voices. I leaned from the window, looking down the deserted street, and asking
myself if the red cloaks would dare to return.
The Colonel also looked in that direction, and
talked with a captain who was leaning against his
saddle. Suddenly the captain crossed the square,
left the ranks, and rushed into our house, crying:
"The master of the house?"
"He has gone out."
"Well-you-lead me to your garret-quick!"
I left my shoes there, and began to climb the




58            M~ADAMIE THERESE.
steps at the end of the hall like a squirrel; the
captain followed me. At the top, he saw at a single glance the ladder of the pigeon-house, and
mounted before me. When we had entered, he
placed his elbows on the edge of the somewhat
low window, and leaned forward so as to see. I
looked over his shoulder. The entire road, as far
as one could see, was lined with men, cavalry,
infantry, cannon, army wagons, red cloaks, green
pelisses, white coats, helmets, cuirasses, files of
lances and bayonets, ranks of horses, and all were
coming toward the village.
"It is an army!" exclaimed the captain, in a
low voice.
He turned suddenly to go down, then, seized
with an idea, pointed out to me along the village,
within two gunshots, a file of red cloaks who were
turning the curve of the road just behind the
orchards.
"You see those red cloaks?" said he.
"Yes."
"Does a carriage road pass there?"
"No, it is a foot-path."
"And this large hollow which cuts it in the
middle, directly before us-is it deep?"
"Oh, yes!




MAADAIME THERESE.              59
"Carriages and carts never pass that way?"
"No, they could not."
Then, without asking anything more, he descended the ladder backwards, as rapidly as possible, and hastened down the stairs. I followed
him; we were soon at the foot, but before we
had reached the end of the hall, the approach
of a body of cavalry caused the houses to shake.
despite this, the captain went out, took two
men from the ranks, and disappeared. Thousands
of quick, strange cries, like those of a flock of
crows, "Hurrah! hurrah!" filled the street from
one end to the other, and nearly drowned the
dull thud   of  the horses' galloping.  I, feeling very proud of having conducted the captain
to the pigeon-house, was so imprudent as to go
to the door. The lancers, for this time they were
lancers, came like the wind, their spears in rest,
their ears covered by large hair caps, eyes staring, noses almost concealed by their moustaches,
and large pistols, with butt ends of brass, in their
belts. It was like a vision. I had only time to
jump back from   the door. My blood froze in
my veins. And it was only when the firing recommenced that I awoke, as if from a dream,
and found myself in the back part of our room




I A
60          1MADAME THERESE.
opposite the broken windows. The air was thick,
the square all white with smoke. The Colonel
alone was visible, seated immovable on his horse
near the fountain. He might have been taken
for a bronze statue in this blue sea, from which
hundreds of red flames spouted. The lancers leaped
about like immense grasshoppers, thrust their spears,
and withdrew them; others fired their pistols into
the ranks, at four paces.
It seemed to me that the square was breaking.
It was true.
"Close the ranks! stand firm!" cried the Colonel, in his calm voice.
"Close the ranks! Close!" repeated the officers
all along the line. But the square gave way, and
became a semi-circle. The centre nearly touched
the fountain. At each stroke of the lance, the
parry of the bayonet came like a flash of light,
but sometimes the man fell.    The Republicans
no longer had time to reload. They ceased firing,
and the lances were constantly coming, bolder,
more numerous, enveloping the square in a whirlwind, and already uttering cries of triumph, for
they believed themselves conquerors.
For myself, I thought the Republicans were
lost, when, in the height of the combat, the




MADAME THERESE.                 61
Colonel, raising his hat on the end of'his sabre,
began to sing a song which made one's flesh
creep, and all the battalion, as one man, sang
with him. In the twinkling of an eye the whole
front of the square straightened itself, and forced
into the street all the mass of horsemen, pressed
one against another, with their long lances, like
corn in the fields. This song seemed to render
the Republicans furious. It was terrible to see
them. And I have thought many times since
that men arrayed in battle are more ferocious than
wild beasts. But there was something still more
horrible; the last ranks of the Austrian column,
at the end of the street, not seeing what was
passing at the entrance of the square, rushed
forward, crying, "Hurrah! hurrah!" so that those
in the first ranks, repulsed by the bayonets of
the Republicans, and not able to go further back,
were thrown into unspeakable confusion, and uttered distressing cries; their large horses, pricked
in the nostrils, were so frightened that their
manes stood up straight, their eyes started from
their heads, and they uttered shrill cries, and
kicked wildly. From   a distance I saw these unfortunate lancers, mad with fear, turn round, strike
their comrades with the handles of their lances




62            MADAME THERESE.
to force a passage for themselves, and fly like
hares past the houses.
A few minutes afterward the street was empty.
There remained, indeed, twenty-five or thirty poor
devils shut up in the square. They had not seen
the retreat, and were entirely disconcerted, not
knowing where to fly. But this was soon over.
A fresh discharge of the guns stretched them on
their backs, except two or three who were thrown
into Tanners' Lane. Only a heap of horses and
dead men was to be seen. Blood flowed through
the gutters, into the trough.
"Cease firing!" cried the Colonel, for the second
time. "Load!"
At that moment nine o'clock struck from the
church tower. It is impossible to describe the
village as it looked then;-houses pierced with
balls; shutters hanging from  their hinges; windows shattered; chimneys tottering; the street
full of tiles and broken bricks, the roofs of the
sheds open to the sky, and that heap of dead,
those horses stretched on the ground, struggling
and bleeding. It is a scene which defies description.
The Republicans, diminished by half their number, their large hats fallen back, stern and terrible in




MADAME THERESE.                63
aspect, awaited orders under arms. Behind, at a little
distance from our house, stood the Colonel, deliberating with his officers. I could easily hear
what he said.
"WVe have an Austrian army before us," said
he, abruptly. "The question is, how to save ourselves. In an hour we shall have twenty or thirty
thousand men upon us. They will surround the
village with their infantry, and we shall all be
lost. I am going to beat a retreat. Has anybody anything to say?"
"No, it is a wise decision."
Then they disappeared, and two minutes after,
I saw a number of soldiers enter the houses,
throw chairs, tables, and-chests of drawers into a
heap outside; some threw straw and hay from
the barns; others brought carts and carriages
from  the out-houses. In less than ten minutes
they had formed at the entrance of the street a
barrier as high as the houses; they placed hay
and straw above and beneath it. The drum-beat
recalled those who were engaged in this work.
The fire rose immediately, step by step, to the
top of the barricade, licking the neighboring roofs
with its red flames, and spreading its black
smoke like an immense vault over the village.




64           MADAME THERESE.
Loud cries rose in the distance; shots were heard
on the other side, but we saw nothing, and the
Colonel gave the order for retreat. I saw the Republicans defile past our house with slow, firm
steps, flashing eyes, red bayonets, black hands,
hollow cheeks. Two drummers marched silently
behind, one of whom was the little boy whom I
had seen sleeping in our shed. He had his drum
slung over his shoulder, and was bent forward,
in marching attitude; large tears flowed over his
round cheeks, which were blackened by the smoke
of the powder. His comrade said, "Come, little
Jean, courage!" But he did not seem to hear
him. Horatius Cocles and the cantiniere had disappeared. I followed the troop with my eyes
until they turned the street. A few moments
afterward the bell of the Town Hall sounded,
and in the distance distressed voices were heard,
crying, "Fire! fire!"
I looked toward the barricade of the Republicans. The fire had reached the houses, and
rose toward the sky. On the other side the
din of arms filled the street, and already long
black pikes were thrust from the garret-windows
of the neighboring houses to break down the
burning barricade.




IV.
AFTER the departure of the Republicans, a quarter of an hour passed before anybody appeared
on our side of the street. All the houses seemed
deserted. On the other side of the barricade the
tumult increased; cries of "Fire! fire!" continued, in  dismal tones.  I went into the shed,
frightened at the fire. Nothing stirred. I heard
only the crackling of the flames and the sighs of
a wounded man leaning against the wall of our
stable. He had a ball in his loins, and leaned
forward, supporting himself on his hands. He was
a Croat. He looked at me with terrible, despairing eyes. A little further on, a horse, lying on
his side, swung his head to and fro, on his long
neck, like a pendulum. As I stood there, thinking that the French must be great brigands, to
bur  our houses without any reason, I heard a




I I
66           MADAME THERESE.
faint sound behind me. Turning round, I saw in
the gloom of the shed under the straw   falling
from the beams, the half open door of the barn,
and behind it the pale face and staring eyes of
our neighbor Spick. He put his head out softly,
and listened; then, convinced that the Republicans
had retreated, he rushed out, brandishing his
axe like a madman, and crying:
"Where are they, those beggars?  Where are
they-let me exterminate them!"
"Ah," said I; "they're gone, but if you run, you
can overtake them at the end of the village."
He gave me a sidelong glance, and seeing that I
spoke innocently, left me, and ran to the fire.
Other doors now opened, and men and women
came out, looked around them, and raised their
hands to heaven, crying:
"Curse them! Curse them!"
They all hastened with their buckets to extinguish the fire. The fountain was soon surrounded.
They formed a line on both sides of the barricade, which extended to the houses that were in
danger. Some soldiers standing on the roof, poured
water upon the flames: but all they could do was to
save the neighboring houses.  Towards eleven
o'clock -a column of bluish fire rose toward the sky;




MADAME THERESE.                67
among the vehicles that were piled up was found
the cantiniere's cart; its two casks of brandy had
burst. Uncle Jacob was in the line, also, on the
other side, under the guard of the Austrian sentinels; but he managed to escape while crossing a
yard, and entered our house by the garden.
"Oh Lord," cried he, "Fritzel is saved!"
I saw by this how much he loved me. He kissed
me, and asked:
"Where have you been, poor child?"
"At the window," said I.
He became very pale, and cried:
"Lisbeth! Lisbeth!"
But she did not answer, and we could not find
her, although we went into all the rooms, and
even looked under the beds.   We thought she
must have gone to some neighbor's house for safety.
Meanwhile they had put out the fire, and suddenly
we heard the Austrians cry outside:
"Room! room! fall back!"
And a regiment of Croats passed us like a thunderbolt.  They rushed on in pursuit of the Republicans; but we learned the next day, that they had
arrived too late; the enemy had gained the forest of Rothalps, which extended as far as
Pirmasens. Now we understood why they had




68            MADAME THERESE.
barricaded the street and set fire to the houses.
They wished to retard the pursuit of the cavalry, and thus showed their great experience in
war.
From that moment until five in the evening
two Austrian brigades were defiling into the village under our windows; lancers, dragoons,
hussars; then cannon and army-wagons; towards
three o'clock, the general-in-chief, in the midst of
his officers,-a large old man in a three-cornered
hat, and long white Polonaise,* so covered with
lace and gold embroidery that the Republican
commander, in his shabby hat and uniform, would
have looked like a simple corporal beside him.
The burgomaster and councillors of Anstatt, in
cloth coats with large sleeves, their heads uncovered, awaited him in the square. He stopped
there a few minutes, and looking at the dead
bodies heaped up around the fountain, asked:
"  ow many of the French were here?"
"A battalion, your Excellency," replied the burgomaster, bent double.
The general said nothing, but raised his threecornered hat, and pursued his way.
Then the second brigade arrived; Tyrolese
* Polish robe.




MA DAME THJ4ERESE.             69
riflemen in front, in green coats, black hats, with
turned-up brims, and little Inspruck carbines;
then another troop of infantry in white coats, skyblue breeches, and great gaiters reaching to their
knees; then the heavy cavalry, men six feet
high, encased in cuirasses, only the chin and long
red moustache visible under the visor of the helmet; then came large ambulances, covered with
gray linen, stretched over hoops, and behind
them, the lame, the stragglers, and the cowards.
The army surgeons made the tour of the square,
raised the wounded, and placed them in the wagons, and one of their leaders, a little old man in a
white wig, said to the burgomaster, pointing to
those who remained:
"You will bury all those as soon as possible."
" Your orders shall be obeyed, sir," answered he,
gravely.
At length the last wagons rolled away.  It was
about six o'clock. Night had come. IUncle Jacob
and I stood in the doorway. Before us, near the
fountain, all the dead lay in rows, with upturned
faces, and staring eyes, white as wax, and bloodless.
The women and children of the village walked
around them. When the grave-digger, Jeffer, with
his two sons, Karl and Ludwig, arrived with their




70           MADAME THiRlESE.
pick-axes on their shoulders, the burgomaster said
to them:
"Take twelve men with you, and dig a deep
grave for all these bodies, in the meadow of the
Wolfthal. Do you hear me? And all who have
carts must lend them, with their horses; for it is
a public service."
Jeffer bent his head, and went immediately to
the meadow of the Wolfthal, with his two boys and
the men whom he had chosen.
"Now, we must find Lisbeth," said my uncle.
WVe recommenced our search, going from  garret
to cellar, and at last, just as we were going to remount the stairs, we saw in the darkness, behind
the barrel of sour-krout between the two airholes, a bundle of linen, which my uncle began
to shake. Lisbeth cried immediately in a pitiful
voice"Don't kill me!   In heaven's name have pity
upon me!"
"Get up," said my uncle, kindly; "it is all
over."
But she was still so much frightened that she
could hardly put one foot before the other, and
I had to lead her up stairs by the hand, like
a child. Then finding herself again in the kitch



AIADAAIE THERESE.              71
en, she sat down by the hearth, and burst into
tears, praying, and thanking God for having
saved her;-which proves that the old cling to
life quite as much as the young.
I shall never forget the hours of desolation
which followed, and the constant calls upon my
uncle from the unfortunates who claimed his care.
Not a moment passed but a woman or child ran
into the house, crying: "Doctor! come quickly;
my husband-my brother-my sister-are ill!"
One had been wounded, another had become
almost insane with fear; another, stretched out to
his full length, gave no sign of life. My uncle
could not be everywhere.
"You will find him  at such a house," I would
say to these wretched ones; "make haste!"
And they would hasten away. It was very late,
nearly ten o'clock, when he at last returned. Lisbeth had recovered from her fright a little. She
had made the fire on the hearth, and laid the
table, as usual; but the plastering from the ceiling, the pieces of window-glass and wood still
covered the floor. In the midst of it all, we seated
ourselves at the table, and ate in silence. From
time to time, my uncle raised his head, and looked
out on the square, at the torches moving around




72           MADAME THERESE.
the dead, the black carts stationed before the
fountain, with their little country ponies, the gravediggers, the lookers on,-all out in the darkness.
He observed them    gravely, and suddenly, when
we had nearly finished, he said to me, stretching out his hand:
"Behold what war is, Fritzel;-look, and remember! Yes, this is war; death and destruction, fury and hatred, disregard of all human
feelings. When God strikes us with his curses,
when he sends us pestilence and famine, these are
at least inevitable scourges, decreed by His wisdom. But here it is man himself, who decrees
misery to his kind, spreads his ravages far and
wide, without pity. Yesterday, we were at peace;
we asked nothing of anybody; we had done no
harm;-and suddenly strange men came to strike,
to ruin and destroy us. Ah, cursed be those
whose ambitious spirit provokes such misfortunes!
Let them  be execrated through all ages! Fritzel,
remember this; war is all that is most abominable on earth. Men who do not know, who have
never seen each other, rush suddenly together,
to tear each other to pieces. This alone would
make us believe in God, for there must be an
avenger of such iniquity."




I J
Dr. Jacob Wagner.                    [Pcaye 72.]








MADAME THERESE.               73
My uncle spoke earnestly. He was much moved,
and I listened with head bowed down, retaining
every word and graving it upon my memory.
As we sat thus, a kind of dispute arose outside
in the square. We heard a dog growl, and our
neighbor Spick say, angrily:
"Stop! stop! you beggar of a dog. I1l give
you a blow with my pick-axe! He's an animal
of the same species as his masters. They pay you
with assignats * and bites; but I'm not the man
to submit to that!"
The dog growled more fiercely. Other voices
broke the silence of the night:
"It is very curious, though: see, he won't
leave the woman. Perhaps she isn't quite dead."
My uncle rose hastily, and went out. I followed. Nothing could be more terrible than the
sight of those dead bodies in the red reflection
of the torches. There was no wind, but the
flame swayed to and fro, and all those ghostly
creatures with open eyes seemed to move.
"Not dead!" cried Spick. "Are you a fool,
Jeffer? Do you think that you know more than
the army surgeons? No, no, she's received her
*The paper money of the French Republic.
2*




74           MADAME THIRESE.
due. She's well served-she's the woman who
paid for my brandy with paper. Go away from
here, that I may kill the dbg, and thus end the
matter."
"What's going on here?" asked my uncle, in
a loud voice. They all turned round and looked
frightened.  The grave-digger took off his hat,
two or three others moved aside, and we saw on
the steps of the fountain, the cantiniere stretched
out, white as snow, her beautiful black hair all
unbound, in a pool of blood; her little cask still at
her side, and her pale hands thrown to the right and
left on the wet stones, over which the water flowed.
Several corpses lay around her, and at her feet
was the spaniel that I had seen in the morning
with the little drummer,-the hair standing up
on his back, his eyes flashing and lips trembling,
as he looked at Spick, growling and shivering.
Notwithstanding his great courage and his pickaxe, the inn-keeper dared not approach, for it
was easy to see that if he missed his blow the
dog would leap at his throat.
"What is this?" repeated Uncle Jacob.
"Because the dog remains here," answered Spick,
sneeringly, "they say the woman isn't dead."
"They are right," said my uncle, sharply. "Some




MADAME THERESE.               75
animals have more mind and heart than some
men. Take yourself away!"
He pushed him aside with his elbow, went
to the woman, and bent over her. The dog, instead of springing upon him, seemed to grow
quiet, and allowed him to do as he would. The
others came near. My uncle knelt down, uncovered
her bosom, and placed his hand on her heart.
No one spoke; the silence was profound. It
lasted nearly a minute, then Spick said:
" Ha! ha! Let them   bury her. Isn't it so,
doctor?"
Uncle Jacob rose, frowning, and looked at the
man sternly, from head to foot.
"Wretched man!" said he, "on account of a
few pints of brandy, for which this poor woman
paid you as well as she could, you now wish to
see her dead, and perhaps buried alive!"
"Doctor!" cried the innkeeper, straightening himself with an arrogant air, "do you know that
there are laws, and that""Silence!" interrupted my uncle. "Your. behavior is infamous!" Then turning to the others:
"Jeffer, carry this woman into my house-she
still lives."
He threw a last indignant look at Spick, while




76            MADAME TH.ERESE.
the grave-digger and his sons placed the cantiniere
on the litter. They went toward the house. The
dog followed Uncle Jacob, pressing close to his
legs. As to the inn-keeper, we heard him say
behind us, mockingly:
"The woman's dead! This doctor knows as
much about it as my pick-axe. The woman's
dead-it makes no difference whether she's buried
to-day or to-morrow. We'll see which of us is
right."
As we were crossing the square, I saw the molecatcher and Koffel following us, which re-assured
me; for since night had come, a sort of terror
had seized me, especially when near the dead
bodies, and I was glad to have a good many
people about. The mole-catcher walked before the
litter, holding a large torch. Koffel kept near my
uncle and looked grave.
"These are terrible things, doctor," said he.
"Ah, is it you, Koffel? Yes, yes, the genius of
evil is in the air, the spirits of darkness are unchained."
We entered the little alley, which was filled
with rubbish. The mole-catcher stopped in the
doorway to light Jeffer and his sons, who came
forward with heavy steps. We followed them into




MADAME THIRESE.                77
the room, and raising his torch, he said, in a
solemn tone:
"Where are the days of tranquillity, the moments of peace, repose and trust, after laborwhere are they, doctor? Ah, they have flown
away through all these openings!"
Then I noticed for the first time the desolate
look of our old room, with its broken windows,
whose shining fragments gleamed in the darkness.
I understood the mole-catcher's words, and thought
that we were indeed unfortunate.
"Jeffer, lay the woman on my bed," said my
uncle, sadly. "Our own miseries must not make
us forget those who are even more unhappy than
we are." And turning to the mole-catcher: "You
will stay and hold the light for me, and Koffel
will help me."
The grave-digger and his sons having placed
the litter on the floor, lifted the woman out, and
put her upon the bed in the alcove. The molecatcher held the torch, the reflections of which: made
his ruddy face look purple. Uncle Jacob gave some
kreutzers to Jeffer, who went away with his boys.
Old Lisbeth had come to see what was going
on. She trembled and dared not approach the
bed, and I heard her repeating the Ave Maria in




78           MADAME THERESE.
a low tone. Her terror was beginning to infect
me, when my uncle cried:
"Lisbeth, what are you thinking of? In heaven's
name, are you crazy? Isn't this woman like all
women, and haven't you helped me in my operations a hundred times? Come-come-folly has
taken possession of you. Go heat some water,
that's all the assistance I can hope for from
you."
The dog was sitting in front of the alcove,
looking, through his shaggy hair, at the woman
stretched upon the bed, pale and motionless as a
corpse.
"Fritzel," said my uncle, "close the shutters;
we must have less air. And you, Koffel, make a
fire in the stove, for we cannot expect to get
any help from Lisbeth now. Ah, if amid so much
wretchedness we still had the good sense to keep
somewhat calm! But all must be in confusion.
When the devil starts out, no one knows where
he'll stop."
He spoke in a discouraged tone. I ran out
to close the shutters, and heard him fasten them
inside. Looking toward the fountain, I saw two
more carts laden with the dead. I re-entered the
house, shivering. Koffel had lighted the fire,




MADAME THERESE.               79
which crackled in the stove. My uncle opened
his case of instruments on the table. The molecatcher stood by, looking at the thousand shining
little knives. Uncle Jacob took a probe and approached the bed, putting aside the curtains. The
mole-catcher and Koffel followed. Curiosity impelled me to watch them. The candle lighted up
the alcove; my uncle had cut open the cantiniere's
jacket.  Koffel, with a large sponge, bathed her
breast, which was covered with dark.blood. The
dog watched him without stirring. Lisbeth also had
returned. She held my hand, and muttered some
prayer. No one spoke in the alcove, and my
uncle, hearing the old servant, cried, angrily:
"Will you be quiet, foolish woman!    Come
mole-catcher, come, raise her arm."
"A beautiful creature," said the mole-catcher,
still very young."
"How pale she is!" said Koffel.
I went nearer and saw her lying there, white
as snow, her head thrown back, and her' black
hair falling around her.  The mole-catcher held
up her arm, and beneath it, between the breast
and the arm-pit, appeared a bluish opening from
which flowed some drops of blood. Uncle Jacob,
his lips compressed, probed this wound; the




80           MADAME THERESE.
probe would not go in. I became so interested,
never having seen anything of the kind, that my
whole soul was in that alcove, and I heard my
uncle murmur"It is strange!"
At that moment the woman breathed a long
sigh, and the dog, who had been quiet until
then, began to cry in a voice as lamentable and
gentle as a human being's.  It made my hair
stand on end.
"Be silent!" cried the mole-catcher.
The dog was silent, and my uncle said:
"Raise the arm   again, mole-catcher.  Koffel,
come here and support the body."
Koffel went behind the bed, and raised the
woman by the shoulders. The probe immediately went in very far. She groaned, and the dog
growled.
"There," cried my uncle, "she is saved. Hold,
Koffel, see: the ball has glanced along the ribs,
it is here, under the shoulder. Do you feel it?"
"Very plainly."
Uncle Jacob went out, and seeing me behind
the curtain, cried:
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm looking."




MADAME THERESE.                81
"Good, now, he's looking!    Everything goes
wrong."
He took a knife from    the table  and  went
back.
The dog watched me with his shining eyes,
which disturbed me.   Suddenly the woman uttered a cry, and my uncle exclaimed, joyfully:
"See! it is a pistol-ball.  The poor creature
has lost a great deal of blood, but she will recover."
"She must have received that during the
great charge of the lancers," said Koffel. "I
was at old Krmemer's, on the first floor, cleaning his clock, and I saw that they fired as they
came in."
"It's possible," answered my uncle, who now
for the first time thought of looking at the woman's face.
He took the candle from the mole-catcher, and
standing behind the bed, looked dreamily for
some seconds at the unfortunate creature.
"Yes," he said, "she is a beautiful woman,
and  has  a   noble head.  How   sad that such
creatures should follow  the army.  How  much
better would it be to see them in the bosom of
an honest family, surrounded by lovely children,




82            MADAME THItRtSE.
beside  an  honest man   whose happiness they
would make. What a shame! After all, though,
it is the will of God."
He went out, calling Lisbeth.
"Get some of your clothes for this woman, and
put them on her," he said. "Mole-catcher, Koffel,
come; we will have a glass of wine, for this
has been a hard day for us."
He went down into the cellar, and returned
just as the old servant came in with the garments.
Lisbeth, seeing that the cantiniere was not dead,
had taken courage; she went into the alcove and
drew the curtains, while my uncle uncorked the
bottle and went to the side-board for glasses.
The mole-catcher and Koffel seemed content. I,
too, drew near the table, which was still laid,
and we finished our supper. The dog watched
us at a distance.   My uncle threw   him  some
pieces of bread, but he would not eat them.
The church-clock struck one.
"It is half-past twelve," said Koffel.
"No," replied the mole-catcher, "it is one o'clock.
I think it is time for us to go to bed."
Lisbeth came out from the alcove, and we all
went in to see the cantiniere.  She seemed to
sleep.  The dog placed his fore paws on the




MADAME THERSE.                 83
edge of the bed, and looked at her also. Uncle
Jacob patted his head, saying:
"Don't be afraid; she will get well, I promise
thee!"
The poor animal seemed to understand, and
whined softly.  Then we went out.   My uncle
lighted Koffel and the mole-catcher to the door,
and then said to us:
"Go to bed, now, it's time."
"And you, doctor?" asked the old servant.
"I shall watch-this woman's in danger, and
they may also want me in the village."
He put a log on the fire, and threw himself
back on the arm-chair, twisting a piece of paper to light his pipe. Lisbeth and I went up to
our rooms, but it was very late before I could
get to sleep, despite my great fatigue; for every
half-hour the rumbling of carts and the reflection of torches on the windows, told me that
the dead were still passing. At length, at daybreak, all the noises ceased, and I slept soundly.




V.
WHAT a sight the village was the next day
when each one was trying to find out what re.
mained, and what he had lost. They found that
a great number of Republicans, lancers, and Croats
had entered the houses through the back doors,
and ransacked them.   Then there was genera]
indignation, and I felt that the mole-catcher was
right in saying:
"The days of peace and quiet have flown away
through these openings."
All the doors and windows were thrown open
so the havoc might be seen; the street was
filled with furniture, vehicles, cattle, and  men
who were exclaiming,
"Ah, the beggars! Ah, the robbers! They've
taken everything!"
One was looking for his ducks, another for




MADAME THEfRESE.               85
his chickens, another found under his bed a pair
of old shoes instead of his boots, a fourth, finding his chimney-place empty, where sausages and
pieces of bacon had hung the morning before,
went into a terrible passion; the women raised
their hands to heaven in despair, and the girls
seemed stupefied. Butter, eggs, tobacco, potatoes,
even linen-had all been stolen. The more they
looked, the  more they missed.    The greatest
rage was felt against the Croats, for after the
general had passed, they, no longer fearing that
they might be complained of, had rushed into
the houses like a band of famished wolves, and
God knows how much had been given them to
induce them to go, without reckoning what they
had taken.
It is very unfortunate that old Germany has soldiers from whom she has more to fear than from the
French. The Lord preserve us from   ever again
needing their aid. We children, Hans Aden, Frantz
Sepel, Nickel, Johann, and I, went from door to
door, looking at the broken tiles and shutters, and
unroofed sheds, and picking up scraps, papers of
cartridges, and balls flattened against the walls.
We enjoyed these treasures so much, that we did
not think of returning home before night-falL




86           MADAME THERESE.
Towards two o'clock we met Zapheri Schmouck,
the basket-maker's son, who held up   his red
head, and seemed prouder than usual. He had
something hidden under his blouse, and when
we asked,
".What have you got there?" he showed us
the end of a great horse-pistol.
Then we all followed him.
He marched in the midst of us like a general;
we said to every boy we met, "He's got a pistol," and the new-comer would join the troop.
We would not have left Schmouck for an empire. It seemed to us that the glory of his pistol was reflected upon us.
Such are children, and such are men!
Each boasted of the dangers he had incurred
during the great battle.
"I heard the balls whistle," said Frantz Sepel,
"two of them came into our kitchen."
"I saw the general of the lancers galloping,
in his red cap," cried Hans Aden, "that was
much more terrible than hearing the balls whistle."
What elated me most was that the Republican commander had given me the cake, saying:
"Eat this boldly!" I thought myself worthy of




MADAME THERESE.                87
having a pistol, like Zapheri;-but nobody would
believe me.
As we passed the steps of the Town Hall
Schmouck cried:
"Come and see!"
We mounted the grand staircase behind him.
and stopping before the door of the councilchamber, which was pierced by a square opening as
large as one's hand, he said:
"Look-the    dead men's clothes   are  there.
Jeffer and the burgomaster brought them in a cart,
this morning."
We remained more than an hour looking at
these clothes, climbing on each other's shoulders.
and whispering:
"Let me look now, Hans Aden-it's my turn,"
etc.
The clothes were piled up in the middle of
the large, deserted room, under the dim light of
two high grated windows. There were the Republican hats and lancers' caps, belts and pouches,
blue coats, and red cloaks, sabres, and pistols.
The guns were placed against the walls on the
right, and further on we saw a row of lances.
The sight of them gave me a chill, and I have
never forgotten them.




88          ~MAIDAAIME THERXSE.
At the end of an hour, when night came, one of
the boys suddenly became frightened, and ran down
the stairs, crying in a loud voice':
"Here they are I'
Then all the party rushed down the steps,
falling over each other in the darkness. It is a
wonder that we did not break our necks, so
great was our terror. I was the last; and although my heart beat violently, I turned at the
foot of the stairs, to look back.  It was nearly
dark in the vestibule; through a little window
on the right, a faint ray of light fell on the
dark steps.  Not a sound disturbed the silence
under the sombre vault. The cries in the street
died away in the distance. I began to fear that
my uncle would be anxious about me, and went
home alone, not without looking around again;
for it seemed to me that stealthy steps were following me, and I dared not run.
I stopped before the inn of the Two Keys,
whose windows shone in the darkness of the
night. The noise of the drinkers reassured me.
I looked through the little opening in the door,
into the large room, where there was the hum of
many voices, and saw Koffel, the mole-catcher, M.
Richter, and many others seated at the deal tables,




MADAME THERESE.                89
bending over pitchers and goblets.  The angular
figure of M. Richter, in his hunting-jacket and
leather cap, was gesticulating, under the hanging
lamp, in the gray smoke.
"Behold these famous Republicans," said he,
"these terrible men who are going to upset the
world. The glorious shadow of the Field Marshal Wurmser is sufficient to scatter them. You've
seen them turn their backs, and stretch their legs!
How many times have I told you that their great
enterprise would end in an explosion?    Molecatcher, Koffel, didn't I say so?"
"Yes, you said so," replied the mole-catcher,
"but that's no reason why you should talk so loud.
Come, M. Richter, sit down and order a bottle
of wine; Koffel and I've paid for ours. That's
the principal thing."
M. Richter sat down, and I went home.      It
was about half-past seven o'clock. The passage
was swept, and the window-panes reset.  I went
at once to the kitchen, and Lisbeth seeing me,
cried:
"Oh, here he' is."  She opened the door and
said, in a lower tone, "Doctor, the child's come!"
"Very well," said my uncle, who was seated at
the table, "let him come in."




90           MADAME THERESE.
I was beginning to speak loud.
"Hush!" said he, pointing to the alcove, " sit
down; you must have a good appetite."
"Yes, uncle."
"Where do you come from?"
"I've been to see the village."
"Very well, Fritzel; you've made me uneasy,
but I'm glad you've witnessed these horrors."
Lisbeth brought me a good plate of soup,
and while I ate, he added"Now, you know     what war is.    Remember
these things, Fritzel, to curse them. It is a good
lesson. What we see in our youth, remains with
us all our lives."
He spoke to himself rather than to me;-I was
too much occupied with my supper to attend.
After soup, Lisbeth gave me meat and vegetables;
but just as I was taking my fork, I saw a motionless creature sitting near me on the floor, watching me. This startled me.
"Don't be afraid, Fritzel," said my uncle, smiling.
I looked again and saw that it was the cantiniere's
dog. He was sitting gravely, with upturned nose
and hanging ears, observing me attentively.
"Give him some of your supper, and you will
soon be good friends."




MADAME THERESE.                91
He called the dog, who came and seated himself near his chair, seeming well pleased with the
little pats my uncle gave him on the head. He
licked my plate clean, then looked at me again
seriously. Supper was nearly over and I was just
going to rise from the table, when a confused
muttering was heard in the alcove. My uncle
listened; the woman was speaking extremely fast
and low.   Those confused, mysterious words in
the midst of the silence, moved me more than
all the rest.  I felt that I turned pale. Uncle
Jacob, his head bent forward, looked at me, but
his thoughts were elsewhere; he was listening.
Among the many words she uttered, a few were
very distinct.
" My father-Jean-killed-all-all-my country!"
I saw that my uncle was much troubled; his
lips trembled. He took the lamp and approached
the bed. Lisbeth entered, to clear the table. He
turned to her and said:
" See, fever has set in," and he drew aside the curtains.  She followed.  I did not move from my
chair. I was no longer hungry. The woman was
silent. I saw my uncle's and Lisbeth's shadows
on the curtains. He held the woman's arm. The
dog was in the alcove with them. I was alone in




92           MADAME THER1SE.
the dark room, and felt afraid.  The cantiniere
spoke again more loudly; then the room seemed
to grow darker, and I drew near the light. But
at that moment there was a struggle; Lisbeth,
who was holding the lamp, recoiled, and the woman, very pale, with wide open eyes, half rose,
crying:
"Jean-Jean-take    care-I'm  coming!"  Then
she uttered a great cry-" Long. live the Republic!"
and fell back.
My uncle came out, exclaiming in great agitation:
"Lisbeth, quick, quick, go up stairs in the
closet-the gray   vial with  a glass stopperhurry!"
He re-entered  the  alcove.  Lisbeth  ran  up
stairs; I held fast to my uncle's coat. The
dog growled; the woman was stretched out as if
dead. Lisbeth returned with the vial. Uncle Jacob
looked at it, and said, quickly,
"That's it-a spoon!"
I ran to get my spoon. He wiped it, poured
a few drops into it, and raising the woman's
head made her swallow them, saying, with extreme gentleness,
"Come, come, courage, my child-courage!"




MADAME THIIRESE.               93
I had never heard him speak in a voice so
sweet, so tender-it touched my heart. The cantiniere sighed gently.  My uncle laid her back
upon the bed, raising her pillow. Then he came
out, looking very pale, and said to us:
"Go to bed, leave me-I'm going to watch."
"But, doctor," said Lisbeth, "last night"
"Go to bed," repeated he, impatiently.    "I
haven't time to listen to  your babbling. For
heaven's sake leave me in peace-this may become
serious!"
We felt that he must be obeyed.
As we went up stairs, Lisbeth said.
"Did] you see that unhappy creature, Fritzel?  Perhaps she's going to die.   Yet she is
still thinking of that devilish Republic! Those
people are real savages. All that we can do is
to pray to God to pardon them."
Then she began to pray. I knew not what to
think of all this, but after having run about so
much, and wallowed in dirt, once in bed I slept
so soundly that not even the return of the Republicans themselves, with all their platoons and
battalion-firing, would have waked me before ten
the next morning




VI.
THE day after the departure of the Republicans, everybody in the village knew  that there
was a French woman at Uncle Jacob's house,
who had received -a pistol-shot, and was recovering very slowly. But the roofs of the houses,
the doors and windows must be repaired, and
each had enough business of his own to attend
to, without troubling himself about the affairs of
others, and it was not until the third day, when
things were nearly all put in order again, that
pe-?le^ began to think about the woman. Then
Joseph Spick spread the news that the French
woman had become raving, and cried, "Long
live the Republic!" in a terrible manner.
The scoundrel stood in the doorway of his inn.
his arms crossed, leaning against the wall, pretending to smoke his pipe, and saying to the
passers-by:




t I
MADAME THERESE.                95
"Nickel-Yokel-listen!-listen how she screams!
Isn't it abominable? Ought we to allow this?"
Uncle Jacob, the best man in the world, was
so indignant with Spick, that I heard him say
several times, that he deserved to be hung. Unhappily, we could not deny that the cantiniere
spoke of France, of the Republic, and other
things contrary to good order. These ideas always
returned to her mind, and we were the more
embarrassed because all the gossips, all the old
Salomes of the village came in procession to our
house; one with her broom under her arm, and
petticoat tucked up,-another with her knittingneedles in her hair, and cap awry; a third
bringing her spinning-wheel, with a sentimental
air, as if to spin in the chimney-corner. This
one came to borrow a gridiron, that one to buy
a pot of curdled milk, or to ask for a little
yeast, to  make bread.   What a shame! Our
passage was two inches deep in mud from their
wooden shoes. And to hear them chatter while
Lisbeth washed her dishes, or watched her pots;
to see them come in, courtesying, and playing the
agreeable!
"Ah! good day, M'lle Lisbeth. How     long it
is since I've seen you!"




96           MADAME THERESE.
"Ah, it's M'lle Oursoula! God of heaven! how
glad I am to see you. Do sit down, M'lle Oursoula!"
"Oh, you're too good, too good! M'lle Lisbeth! What beautiful weather, this morning!"
"Yes, M'lle Oursoula-very fine weather-delicious weather for rheumatism."
"Delicious for colds, also."
"Ah, yes! and for all kinds of sickness. How
is monsieur le cure's rheumatism, M'lle Oursoula?"
"Oh, Lord! How should it be? Sometimes on
one side-sometimes on the other. Yesterday in
the shoulder-to-day in the back. So it moves
about. Always suffering, always suffering!"
"Ah, I'm sorry to hear it-very sorry!"
"But apropos, M'lle Lisbeth, you'll call me very
curious-they are talking about it all over the
village; is your French lady still ill?"
"Ah, M'lle Oursoula, don't speak of it; we've
had such a night-such a night!"
"Is it possible?  That poor lady is no better?
What do I hear?"
And they would clasp their hands, and bend
forward with an air of great commiseration, rolling their eyes, and shaking their heads.
The first two days, my uncle, thinking this




MADAME THERESE.               97
would end when people's curiosity was gratified,
said nothing. But seeing that it still continued,
he entered the kitchen abruptly, one fine morning, when his patient had a great deal of fever,
and said to the old women, angrily:
"What do you come here for? Why don't you
stay at home?   Have you no work in      your
houses? You ought to be ashamed to pass your
lives in chattering like old magpies, and giving
yourselves the airs of great ladies, when you are
nothing but servants. It is ridiculous, and I'm
very tired of it!"
"But," answered one, "I came to buy a pot
of milk."
"Does it take two hours to buy a pot of
milk? replied he, really angry. "Lisbeth, give
her the pot of milk, and let her go with the
others. I'm tired of all this, I shall allow no
one to come here to spy, and take false news
from my house to spread over the country. Go,
and don't come here again."
The gossips went off quite ashamed.
That day my uncle had a great discussion.
M. Richter ventured to say to him that he was
wrong to interest himself so much in strangers,
who came into the country to pillage, and above




98           MADAME THERESE.
all in this woman, who could not be of much
account, as she had followed the soldiers. He
listened coldly, and answered:
"M[. Richter, when I do a humane act, I do
not ask the person,'From what country are
you? Have you the same belief as I? Are you
rich or poor? Can you pay me for what I have
done for you?' I follow the impulse of my heart,
and the rest matters little. Whether this woman
be French or German, whether she has Republican ideas or not, whether she has followed the
soldiers of her own accord, or been forced to
do so by necessity, does not trouble me. I saw
that she was dying; my duty was to save her life.
And now my duty is, with the help of God, to
go on with what I have undertaken. As to you,
M. Richter, I know you are an egotist; you do
not love your fellow-creatures. Instead of rendering them a service, you seek to gain some personal advantage fiom them. This is the foundation
of your opinion on all matters. And as such
opinions make me angry, I beg that you will
not enter my house again."
He opened the door, and as M. Richter wished
to reply, without listening to him, he politely
took him  by the arm, and put him out.     The




MADAME THERESE.                99
mole-catcher, Koffel, and I were present, and
Uncle Jacob's firmness on this occasion astonished
us; we had never seen him more calm and
resolute.  He only kept the mole-catcher and
Koffel for his friends. Each in turn watched
with the patient, which did not prevent them from
attending to their business during the day.
From that time tranquillity was re-established
in our house.
One morning, on awaking, I found that winter
had come. Its white light filled my little room.
Great snow-flakes were falling from the sky in
myriads-whirling against niy window-panes. All
was still outside; not a soul was in the street;
everybody's doors were closed; the chickens were
quiet; the dogs looked out from their kennels,
and in the neighboring thickets the poor greenfinches, shivering under their ruffled feathers,
uttered that plaintive cry of distress which lasts
until spring. I, wifh my elbow   on my pillow,
and my eyes dazzled, looked at the snow piled
up on the edge of the little win4ws, and pictured to myself past winters-the light from our
great stove in the evenings, dancing on the floor,
the mole-catcher, Koffel, and my uncle bending
over it, smoking their pipes and talking of un



100          MADAME THERRESE.
important matters. I heard Lisbeth's wheel buzzing in the silence like the downy wings of a
moth, and her foot keeping time to the song
that the green log was singing on the hearth.
Without, I pictured to myself the slides on the
river, the sleighing parties, the battle with snowballs, the shouts of laughter, the broken windowpanes, the old grandmother calling after us, while
the band scampered away. All this came into my
mind in a moment, and half sad, half glad, I
said to myself, "It's winter." Then thinking it
would be pleasant to be sitting in front of the
fire, eating some of Lisbeth's good porridge, I
sprang from my bed, and dressed myself quickly,
feeling very chilly. Without taking time to put
on both sleeves of my jacket, I went rolling
down stairs like a ball. Lisbeth was sweeping
the yard. The kitchen door was open, but despite the beautiful fire which danced around the
pots, I hurried into the sitting-room. Uncle Jacob
had just returned from a visit. His great ridingcoat lined with foxes' fur, and his otter-skin cap,
hung on the wall, and his large boots were near
the stove. He was taking a glass of kirschenwasser*
* Cherry-brandy.








4ii i'kI'~,w,
SMoCa J, tp               "
"'So Mole Catcher, the night has passed wxell"' [Pa~ge 101.]




MADAME THLRESE.               101
with the mole-catcher, who had been watching that
night. Both seemed in good spirits.
"So, mole-catcher," said my uncle, "the night
has passed well?"
"Very well, doctor; we've all slept; the woman in her bed, I in the arm-chair, and the dog
behind the curtain. Nobody has stirred. This
morning, on opening the window, I saw the country as white as Hans Wurst, when he comes out
of his bag of flour; all had been done without a
sound. As I opened the window, you were coming up the street, and I wanted to call out good
morning, but the woman was still asleep, and I
didn't want to wake her."
"Well, well, you did right. To your health,
mole-catcher."
"To yours, doctor."
They drained their little glasses at a draught,
and put them on the table, smiling.
"All goes well," said Uncle Jacob; "the wound
is closing; the fever diminishes, but strength is
still wanting; the poor thing has lost too much
blood. But at last, at last, that will come right."
I sat down near the stove. The dog came from
the alcove, and began to caress my uncle, who
said, looking at him:




102          MADAME THtER SE.
"What a good     animal!   See, mole-catcher,
wouldn't you say that he understands us? Doesn't
he seem more joyous this morning? I cannot but
believe that these animals understand some things
very well; if they have less judgment than we,
they often have more heart."
"That's true," said the mole-catcher. "For my
part, all the time the fever lasted, I would look
at the dog and think'He's sad; that's a bad
sign. He's gay; that's a good sign!' On my
honor, I agree with you, doctor. I have great
confidence in the understanding of animals."
"Come, mole-catcher, take another little glass,
it's cold out of doors, and the old kirschenwasser
warms you like a ray of sunlight." He opened
the sideboard, took out a loaf of bread and two
knives, and said, "Let us have a crust."
The mole-catcher nodded   assent.  My uncle,
perceiving me, said, smilingly:
"Well, Fritzel, snow-balls and slides have come
again. Doesn't that please you?"
"Yes, uncle."
"Yes, yes, amuse yourself. One is never happier than at your age, my boy. But above all,
don't make your snow-balls too hard. Those who
make them   too hard don't want to amuse them



MADAME THIRESE.                103
selves, they want to do harm; they're bad boys."
"Ah, doctor," said the mole-catcher, laughing,
"I always made my balls too hard."
"And see how wrong you were; that proves
that there was a spice of malice in your nature.
Happily reason has conquered that.    I'm  sure
you repent of having made your balls too hard."
"Oh yes," said the mole-catcher, not knowing
what to reply; "although the rest made theirs
too hard, too."
"We should never trouble ourselves about
others. We must do what kindness commands.
All men are naturally good and just; but bad
example leads them astray."
While we were talking, some words were heard
in the alcove. We all became silent, and listened.
"That, mole-catcher, is not the voice of delirium," said Uncle Jacob.  "It's a weak   but
natural voice."
He rose and drew    aside the curtains.  The
mole-catcher and I stood behind him, stretching
forward our heads. The woman, very pale and
thin, seemed to be asleep; we could hardly hear
her breathe. But in a moment she opened her
eyes, and looked from one to another in astonishment, then around the   alcove, then at the




104          MADAME THIRESSE.
windows white with snow, at the chest of drawers,
the old clock, and at the dog, who stood with
his paws on the edge of the bed. At length
she closed her eyes, and my uncle said, in a
very low tone:
"She has come to herself."
"Yes," said the mole-catcher, "she has seen
us; she doesn't know us, and now she's thinking of what she has just seen."
We were going to withdraw, when she re-opened
her eyes, and made an effort to speak. But
Uncle Jacob, raising his voice, said, kindly:
"Don't agitate yourself, madam; be calm; have
no uneasiness. You are with those who will let
you want for nothing. You've been ill, but you're
getting better. But I beg you to have confidence
-you're among friends-true friends."
She looked at him with her large black eyes,
while he spoke. We could see that she understood him. But notwithstanding his advice, she
tried to speak again, and said in a low voice:
"The drummer-the little drummer."
My uncle, looking at the mole-catcher, asked:
"Do you understand her?"
And the mole-catcher, putting his hand to his
head, answered:




MADHME THERESE.               105
"A remnant of fever, doctor-a little remnant
-it'll pass off."
But the woman in a loud voice repeated"Jean-the little drummer."
I was standing on tip-toe, very attentive, and
it suddenly occurred to me that she was speaking of the little drummer whom I had seen lying
in our shed, the day of the great battle. I remembered how she watched him from the window, as she mended his little pantaloons, and
said:
"Uncle, perhaps she is speaking of the little
drummer who was with the Republicans."
The poor woman at once tried to turn toward
me.
"Yes, yes!" cried she. "Jean-my brother!"
"Be quiet, madame," said my uncle. "Don't
move; your wound might re-open. Mole-catcher,
bring a chair." And taking me under the arms, he
placed me on the chair before her, saying,
"Tell madame what you know, Fritzel. Do you
remember the little drummer 9"
"Oh yes! the morning of the battle he was
lying under our shed; the dog was at his feet.
He was asleep. I remember him well!" answered
I, much disturbed, for she was looking at me as




106          MADAME THRE.SSE.
if she would search my very soul-just as she
had looked at Uncle Jacob.
"And then, Fritzel?"
"Then he was with the other drummers in the
midst of the battalion, when the Croats came.
And at last, when they had set the street on
fire, and the Republicans were leaving, I saw
him in the rear."
"Wounded?" asked the woman, in a voice so
faint that we could hardly hear it.
"Oh no! he had his drum      on his shoulder,
and was crying as he marched, and a larger
boy was saying to him,'Courage, little Jean,courage!' but he didn't seem to hear him-his
cheeks were wet with tears."
"You are sure you saw him go away with them,
Fritzel?" asked my uncle.
"Yes, uncle; he made me sorry, and I watched
him to the end of the village."
The cantiniere closed her eyes, and sobbed
quietly. Tears flowed down her face, one after
another, in silence. It was very sad, and uncle
said, softly:
"Get down, Fritzel; we must let her cry without hindrance."
But as I was getting down, she stretched out




MADAME THRE'SE.                107
her hand, and drew me to her, murmuring
something. Uncle Jacob understood her, and
asked:
"Do you wish to kiss the child?'
Yes."
He held me toward her. She kissed me, sobbing. Then I too began to cry.
"Well, well!" said my uncle. "You must be
calm now, madame; you must try to sleep if you
would get well. You'll see your little brother
again. Courage!"
He took me out, and closed the curtains. The
mole-catcher was walking up and down the room
with long strides. His face was red, and he
said:
"That's a good woman, doctor-an honest woman-let her be a Republican, or what you will.
They who think the contrary are no better than
scoundrels!"
"Yes, she has a generous nature; I knew it
at once by her face. It is fortunate that Fritzel
remembers the child. The poor woman was very
anxious. I understand now why the name of
Jean constantly recurred in her delirium. It is
all right, mole-catcher, it is all right-tears will
soothe her."




108          MADAME THERESE.
They went out together. I heard them     still
talking about her outside the door. And as I
sat near the stove, wiping my eyes on my sleeve,
I suddenly saw the dog near me, looking at me
with great gentleness. He put his paw   on my
knee, and began to caress me. For the first
time I took his great shaggy head between my
hands without fear. It seemed as if we had been
friends for a long time, and that I had never
been afraid of him. Raising my eyes, I saw Uncle
Jacob, who had just come in, and was watching
me, smiling.
"You see, Fritzel, that the poor animal loves
you. He'll follow  you now, for he's found out
that you have a kind heart."
And so it was; from that day the dog no longer
refused to accompany me; on the contrary, he
followed me gravely all over the village, which
made me prouder than Zapheri Schmouck with
his lancers' pistol. He would sit near my chair,
to eat from my plate, and do whatever I wished.




VII.
THE snow continued to fall that day and the
following night.  Every one thought that the
mountain roads would be blocked up, and that we
should see no more of the lancers nor the Republicans; but a little incident happened which served
to show the sad consequences of war, and to make
men reflect on the mishaps of this world.
It was the day after that on which our patient
had recovered her reason, between eight and nine
in the morning.   The kitchen door was open
so that the stove might warm the sitting-room. I
was standing by Lisbeth, who was churning butter
near the hearth. Turning my head a little I could
see my uncle sitting by the window, which was white
with snow, reading the almanac and smiling occasionally.
The dog Scipio was near me, grave and motionless, and as I every minute tasted the cream which




110          MADAME THERESE.
was coming out of the churn, he gaped in a melancholy manner.
"But Fritzel," said Lisbeth, "what are you thinking of? If you eat all the cream, we'll have no
more butter."
The clock ticked slowly in the sitting-room;
out-of-doors the silence was perfect.
This lasted for half an hour, and Lisbeth had
just put the fresh butter on a plate, when voices
were heard in the street; the gate opened, and
feet covered  with snow  were stamped on the
stones of the court. My uncle hung the almanac on the wall and looked towards the door,
through which the burgomaster, Meyer, came in,
with his cap of curled wool, with two tassels,
drawn over his ears, the collar of his great
coat white with frost, and his hands enclosed in
rabbit-skin mittens which reached to his elbows.
"Good-day, doctor, good-day," said the large
man.   "I come at a snowy time.      But what
of that? It is necessary, it is necessary."
Then shaking his mittens, which hung from his
neck by a string, he took off his cap and continued:
"A  poor devil, doctor, is lying in Reebock's
wood-house behind a heap of fagots. He's a sol



MADAME THERESE.               111
dier, or rather a corporal, or a captain. I don't
know  exactly which.  He must have crept in
there to die quietly, during the fight.  It will
be necessary to hold an inquest. I can't certify of what the man died-that's not part of my
office."
"Well, burgomaster," said Uncle Jacob, rising,
"I will go: but there must be one more witness."
"Michel Furst is outside, waiting at the gate.
What a snow! what a snow! up to one's knees,
doctor. It will be good for the crops, and for
his majesty's armies, who will go into quarters-God bless them! I would rather they
should go to Kaiserslautern than   come here;
one never has a better friend than himself."
While the burgomaster indulged in these reflections, my uncle was putting on his boots,
great coat, and otter-skin cap. Then he said:
"I am ready."
They went out, and despite the entreaties of
Lisbeth, who wanted to keep me in, I hurried
out, and followed them.  I was seized with a
curiosity to see the soldier.
Uncle Jacob, the burgomaster, and Furst, were
the only persons in the deserted streets; but as
they walked along, faces appeared at the windows,




112          MADAME THERESE.
and doors were heard opening in the distance.
People seeing the burgomaster, the doctor, and
the garde-champetre* thought something extraordinary must have happened, and several even
came out, but, not finding out anything, went in
again immediately.
Arriving at Reebock's house, one of the oldest in the village, with barn, stables, and shed in
the fields behind, and thatched cowhouses with
mouldy roofs on the    right,-the burgomaster,
Furst, and my uncle, entered the little gloomy
passage paved with broken flag-stones.
I followed unperceived.
Old Reebock, who had seen them pass his
windows, opened the door of the sitting-room,
which  was as full of smoke as a steam-bath,
where the old grandmother, her two sons, and
two daughters-in-law sat.
Their dog, with long gray hair and tail dragging on the ground, came out, also, and smelt
Scipio, who followed me, holding himself proudly
while the other walked around him, trying to
make his acquaintance.
"I'll show you the way," said old Reebock"it's there-inside-behind the barn."
* An officer who has charge of the fields.




MADAME THERESE.               113
"No, stay here, Father Reebock," said Uncle
Jacob, "it's chilly, and you are old-your son will
show us the way."
But the son, after discovering the soldier, had
ran away.
The old man went before; we followed in file.
It was very dark in the passage.    In passing
we saw the cow-house lighted by a pane of
glass in the roof, five goats with full udders,
who looked at us with their golden brown eyes,
and two kids who began to cry in a shrill,
plaintive voice; then the stable; two oxen and
the cow, with their worm-eaten racks and litter
of dead leaves.
The animals turned quietly round. We walked
along the wall: something rolled under my feet.
It was a rabbit which disappeared under the
manger. Scipio did not stir.
Then we came to the barn, low, filled with
hay and straw to the roof. Inside we saw a
window of bluish glass opening in the garden;
the light from it fell upon a great pile of logs
and some fagots heaped against the wall; below all was dark.
Strange to say, in the window were a cock
and two or three hens, their heads under their




114         MADAME THERESE.
wings, who stood out black against the light.
I could not see much at first, on account of
the gloom. We all stopped. The hens gave a
low cackle.
"Perhaps I should have lighted the lantern."
said old Reebock: "we can't see very well."
As he spoke, I saw to the right of the window, against the wall, between two fagots, a
large red cloak: then looking closer, a dark
head and yellowish moustache; the cock jumped
down from the window and made it lighter.
I was seized with fear. Had I not felt
Scipio against my leg, I should have run away.
"I see," said my uncle, "I see!" And he approached, saying: "It is a Croat. Let us seeFurst, we must draw him forward a little."
But neither Furst nor the burgomaster moved.
My uncle drew the man by the leg, so
that the light fell upon him. He had a red
head, sunken eyes, pinched nose, compressed lips,
and a reddish tuft on his chin. Uncle Jacob
unbuckled his cloak, throwing the folds over
the wood, and we saw that the Croat held a sabre
with a long blue curved blade. On his left side
a large black  spot showed that he had bled
there. My uncle unbuttoned his vest and said:




MADAME THERESE.                115
"He died of a bayonet-stroke, doubtless during
the last encounter.  He must have withdrawn
from the contest. Father Reebock, what astonishes me, is that he did not knock at your door,
and that he came so far to die."
"We were all hidden in the cellar," said the
old man; "the door of the room       was shut.
We heard some one running in the passage, but
there was so much noise outside. I believe the
poor man wanted to escape through the house;
unfortunately there is no back door.  A Republican must have followed him like a wild beast
as far as the barn. We've seen no blood in the
passage; it is here in the darkness that they
must have fought, and the Frenchman, after giving him this bad blow, must have gone quietly
away.  This is what    I think; otherwise   we
should have found blood somewhere. But no
one has seen any, either in the stable or the
cowhouse.  It was not till this morning, when
we needed some large wood for the stove, that
Sepel, going into the woodhouse, discovered the
unfortunate man."
As we listened to this   explanation, we pictured to ourselves the Republican with his great
queue, like a black sausage, and his large pointed




116          MADAME THPRESE.
hat, pursuing the Croat in the darkness, and it
made one tremble.
"Yes," said Uncle Jacob, rising, and looking at
the burgomaster, sadly, "that's the way it must
have happened."
All became thoughtful. The silence near the
dead body chilled me.
" Now the inquest is over," said my uncle, in
a moment, "we can go." Then, be-thinking himself, "Perhaps there may be some means of finding
out who this man is."
He knelt again, put his hand into the man's
pocket, and drew out some papers. Then he pulled
a little copper chain that crossed his breast, and drew
a large silver watch from the fob of his pantaloons.
"Take the watch," he said to the burgomaster' I'll keep the papers until I've written the certificate."
"Keep everything, doctor," said the burgomaster. "I don't like to carry into my house a
watch which has already marked the death of
one of God's creatures-no, keep everything.
Later, we'll talk of this again. Now, let us go."
"Yes, and you may send Jeffer."
Then my uncle, perceiving me, said:
"You here, Fritzel? Must you then see everything?"




MADAME THERESE.                117
He made no other reproach, and we went home
together. The burgomaster and Furst went to
their homes. As we walked along, Uncle Jacob
read the Croat's papers. Opening the door of our
room, we saw that the woman had just taken
some broth; the curtains were still open and
the plate on the table.
"Well, madame," said my uncle, smiling, "you're
getting better."
She had turned and was looking at him gratefully with her large black eyes.
"Yes, doctor, you have saved me. I feel that
I'm recovering." Then, in a second, she added in
a tone full of compassion-"You have just found
another unfortunate victim of war."
My uncle knew then that she had overheard
the conversation when the burgomaster came for
him half an hour before.
"It is true, it is true, madame; another unfortunate creature who will never more see his
home; another poor mother who will never again
embrace her son."
She seemed moved, and asked in a low voice:
"Is it one of our men?"
"No, madame; he is a Croat. I have just
been reading a letter that his mother wrote him




118          MADAME THRkRESE.
three weeks ago. The poor woman begs him not
to forget his prayers night and morning, and to
do right. She speaks to him with tenderness, as
if he were a child. Yet he was an old soldier;
but doubtless she saw him still fresh and fair as
on the day when, for the last time, she embraced
him, sobbing."
My uncle's voice, as he said this, was very touching. He looked at the woman, who also seemed
much moved.
"Yes, you are right," said she, "it must be
dreadful to know that a child will never come
back again. I, at least, have the consolation of
no longer causing such suffering to those who
loved me."
She turned away her head, and my uncle, who
had become very grave, asked her:
"Yet you are not alone in the world?"
"I have neither father nor mother," said she,
sadly; "my father was commander of the battalion
that you saw. I had three brothers. We all came
away together in'92 from  Fenetrange in Lorraine. Three are now dead; my father and two
eldest brothers; only I, and Jean the little drummer, are left." As she said this, she seemed ready
to burst into tears. Uncle Jacob, his head bent




MADAME THERESE.               119
forward, his arms crossed on his back, walked up
and down the room. Again all was silent. Suddenly the French woman said: "I have something
to ask you, doctor."
"WVhat, madame?"
"Write to the mother of the unfortunate Croat.
It is terrible, no doubt, to hear of the death of
a son, but to be always expecting him, to hope
for years that he will return, and yet never to
see him-even at one's last hour, that must be
more cruel still."
She ceased, and my uncle said, thoughtfully:
"Yes, yes, it is a good thought. Fritzel, bring
the ink and paper. What a terrible thing, my
God! To think that writing such news to a
mother should be considered a good deed. Oh
war! war!"
He sat down and began to write. Lisbeth came
in to lay the cloth. She put the plates and loaf
on the sideboard.  Twelve o'clock struck.  The
cantiniere seemed to be sleeping.  Uncle Jacob
finished his letter, folded, sealed, and addressed
it, and said to me:
"Go, Fritzel, put this letter into the box, and
hurry. Ask for the newspaper at Mother Eber



120          MADAME THERESE.
hardt's. It's Saturday; there must be news of
the war."
I ran out, and put the letter in the village
box.  But the newspaper had not come.      Clementz had been delayed by the snow, which did
not surprise my uncle, as such things happened
nearly every winter.




VIII.
RETURNING from the post-office, I saw at a dis
tance, in the large meadow behind the church.
Hans Aden, Frantz Sepel, and many of my other
comrades, sliding on the pond. I could see a
whole row of them give a sudden spring, and glide
off like arrows, bending forward, their arms extended in the air to preserve their equilibrium, and I
heard the prolonged whir of their wooden shoes
on the ice, and their shouts of joy.
How my heart bounded as I watched them!
How I wished that I could join them! Unfortunately Uncle Jacob was waiting for me, and I
went in with my head full of this joyous sight.
All the time we were at dinner, the idea of
running down to the meadow never left me for
a second; but I was very careful not to speak
of it to my uncle, for he always forbade my
sliding on the pond for fear of accidents.




122          MADAME THERESE.
At last he went out to visit the cure, who was
suffering from rheumatism. I waited until he had
reached the main street, and then whistled to
Scipio, and ran like a hare to Holly Lane. The dog
bounded after me, and it was not until we reached
the little lane full of snow, that we stopped to
take breath. I thought I should find my comrades on the pond, but they had gone to dinner.
On turning the corner of the church, I only saw the
great deserted slides. I therefore had to slide alone,
and as it was cold, I had enough of it in half an
hour. I was returning to the village, when Hans
Aden, Frantz Sepel, annd two or three others,
with red cheeks, cotton  caps drawn over their
ears, and hands in their pockets, came out from
the hedges covered with snow.
"Is it you, Fritzel?" said Hans. "Are you going
away?"
"Yes. I've just been sliding, and Uncle Jacob
doesn't want me to slide. I'd rather go home."
"I split my shoe on the ice this morning,"
said Frantz, "and my father has mended      it.
Look!"
He took off his shoe and showed it to us.
His father had put a band of iron across it,
fastened by four great nails, with pointed heads.




MADA1IE TIIERESE.             123
This made us laugh, and Frantz cried:
"There! that isn't very fine for sliding! Listen: let us go in a sled up the Altenberg, and
we'll come down like the wind."
The idea of going in a sled seemed to me so
magnificent, that I already saw myself on one,
rushing down the hill, and guiding it with my
heels, crying, in a voice which reached the clouds,
" Himmelsfarth! Himmelsfarth " I was enchanted
with the idea.
"Yes," said Hans Aden, "but how are we to
get a sled?"
"Leave that to me," replied Frantz Sepel, the
most mischievous of us all. "Father had one last
year, but it was all worm-eaten, and grandmother
made fire-wood of it.  But it's all the same.
Come on."
We followed him, full of doubt and hope. As
we went down the street, we stopped before every
shed, and looked up with envious eyes at the
sleds hanging from the beams.
"There's a beautiful sled!" said one; "it could
hold us all, easily."
"Yes," answered another, "but it would be too
heavy to drag up the hill; it is made of green
wood."




124          MNADAME THERESE.
"Ah," said Hans Aden, "but we'd take it for
all that, if Father Gitzig would lend it to us.
But he's a miser. He keeps his sled for himself alone; as if sleds could wear out!"
"Come on!" cried Frantz Sepel, who was in
advance. All the party started again. From time
to time they glanced at Scipio, who kept near
me.
"You have a fine dog," said Hans, "he's a
French dog. They have wool like sheep, and let
you shear them without saying a word."
Frantz declared that he had seen, the year before, at the fair at Kaiserslautern, a French dog
who wore glasses, and counted on a drum     up
to a hundred. He guessed all sorts of things,
and Grandmother Anne thought he must be a
sorcerer.
Scipio stopped and looked at us during this
speech. I was very proud of him. Little Karl,
the weaver's son, said that if Scipio were a sorcerer, he could get a sled for us; but it would
be necessary to give him our souls in exchange,
and not one of us wanted to give him his soul.
So we went on from house to house, and the
church clock was striking two, when M. Richter
passed us on his sled, crying to his great lean




.MAiDAMJE 1THERESE.            125
horse, "Get up! Charlotte, get up!" The poor
beast strained every nerve. MI. Richter, contrary
to his custom, seemed very merry. As he passed
the butcher Sepel's house, he cried, "Good news,
Sepel, good news!" He cracked his whip, and
Hans said:
"M. Richter's a little fuddled. He must have
found, somewhere, some wine which didn't cost
him anything."
We laughed loudly at this; for all in the village
knew  that ML   Richter was a miser.    We had
reached the end of the street where stood the
house of Father Adam Schmitt, an old soldier of
Frederic II., who received a little pension to buy
bread, and tobacco, and occasionally schnapps.
He had been in the Seven Years' War, and in all
the campaigns of Silesia and Pomerania. He was
very old now, and since his sister Roesel's
death, lived alone in the last house of the village-a little thatched house, having only one
room below, one above, and the roof with its
two attic windows. There was also a shed on one
side, a pig-sty behind, and a little garden in
front, surrounded by a quick-set hedge, which
Father Schmitt cultivated with care.
Uncle Jacob liked this old soldier; sometimes,




126          MADAME THERESE.
when he saw him passing the house, he would
tap on the window-pane, and cry, "Come in,
Adam!" He always came in, knowing that uncle
had real French cognac in a cupboard, and that
he called him in to offer him a little glass.
We stopped, then, before his house, and Frantz,
leaning on the hedge, said:
"Look at that sled! I bet Father Schmitt will
lend it to us, if Fritzel goes in boldly, puts his
hand beside the old man's ear, and says,'Father
Adam, will you lend us your sled?' Yes, I bet
he'll lend it to us; I'm sure of it-only we
must be bold!"
I became very red. I looked at the sled with
one eye, and with the other at the little low
window on a level with the ground. All my
comrades stood at the corner of the house, pushing me forward by the shoulder, saying:
"Go in, he'll lend it to you!"
"I dare not," said I, speaking very low.
"You haven't any courage," replied Hans Aden;
"if I were in your place, I'd go in at once."
"Let me look in, a little, and see if he's in
good humor."
Then I peeped in at the little window, and
saw Father Schmitt sitting on a stool before the




MADAME THERkSE.               127
stone hearth, on which a few coals burned amid
a heap of ashes. His back was turned toward
me. I could see only his long figure and stooping shoulders, his little blue cloth jacket, too short
to reach the coarse gray linen pantaloons, his
white hair falling on his neck, the blue cotton
cap, with a little tassel in front, the large red
ears standing out from his head, and great wooden
shoes resting on the stove hearth. He was smoking his clay pipe, the bowl of which I could see
projecting a little  beyond his sunburnt cheek.
This is all I saw beside the broken flag-stones
of the floor, and on the left, a sort of manger
filled with straw. These observations did not inspire me with much confidence, and I tried to
escape; but the others pushed me into the entry,
saying, in low voices:
"Fritzel-Fritzel-he'll lend  it to  you, I'm
sure!"
"No."
"Yes."
"I don't want to."
But Hans Aden had opened the door, and I
was already in the room with Scipio, the others
behind me, with wide-open eyes, staring and
listening. Oh, how I wished I could escape!




128            MADAME TtI.RESE.
Unfortunately, Frantz Sepel, outside, held the door
half closed. There was room only for his head,
and Hans Aden's, who stood on tip-toe behind
him. Old Schmitt had turned round.
"Why, it's Fritzel!" said he, rising. "What's
the matter?"
He opened the door, and all the party fled like
a flock of sparrows. I was left alone. The old
soldier looked at me much astonished.
"What do you want, Fritzel?" asked he, taking
a coal from the hearth to re-light his pipe, which
had gone out. Then seeing Scipio, he contemplated him gravely, blowing great puffs of smoke.
I had recovered my confidence a little.
"Father Schmitt," said I, "The boys want me
to ask you for your sled, to ride down the Altenberg."
The old soldier, who was opposite the dog,
winked and smiled. Instead of replying, he rubbed
his ear, raising his cap, and asked:
"Is that your dog, Fritzel?"
"Yes, Father Adam; -he belongs to the woman
who is at our house."
"Ah, good! he must be a soldier's dog. He
must know the drill."
Scipio was watching us, with nose upturned








ShudrAm. Pg 2.




MADAME THERESE.              129
and Father Schmitt, taking his pipe from his
mouth, said:
"He's a dog of the regiment. He looks like
old Michel, whom we had in Silesia." Then
raising his pipe, he cried: "Shoulder arms!" in
a voice so loud that it resounded through the
whole house. But what was my surprise to see
Scipio sit on his hind legs, his fore legs hanging down, and carrying himself like a real soldier.
"Ha! ha! ha!" cried old Schmitt, "I was sure
of it!"
My comrades had all come back. Some were
looking in through the half-open door, some through
the window. Scipio -did not stir, and Father
Schmitt, as joyous as he had seemed grave before, said:
"Attention, march!" Then imitating the sound
of a drum, he marched backward on his great
wooden shoes, and began to cry "March! Panpan-rataplan. One-two. One-two!"
And Scipio marched with astonishing gravity,
his long ears on   his shoulders, and his tail
curled. It was marvellous. My heart leaped. All
the others were speechless with admiration.
"Halt!" cried Schmitt, and Scipio halted.
Then I thought no more of the sled; I was




130           MADAME THERESE.
so proud of Scipio's talents, that I would have
run home and exclaimed to my uncle, "We have
a dog who can drill!" But Hans Aden, Frantz
Sepel, and all the rest, encouraged by the old soldier's good humor, had come in, and were standing
there in ecstasy, their backs against the door,
their caps under their arms.
"In place, rest " cried  Father Schmitt, and
Scipio came down on his four paws, shaking his
head, and scratching his neck with his hind leg,
as if to say, "A flea has been biting me for
two minutes, but one dares not scratch himself
while under arms!"
I was speechless with joy at seeing these performances, and dared not call Scipio for fear of
making him ashamed. But he placed himself near
me, modestly, which overwhelmed me with satisfaction. I considered myself in some sort, a fieldmarshal at the head of his armies. All the others
envied me.
Father Schmitt looked at Scipio with emotion.
We could see that he was recalling his soldier life.
"Yes," said he, in a few minutes, "he's a true
soldier's dog. But let us see if he understands
politics, for very few  dogs understand politics."
He took a stick from behind the door, and held




MADAME THIERESE.             131
it crosswise, crying, "Attention to the word of
command!" Scipio was already in readiness.
"Jump for the Republic!" cried the old soldier, and Scipio leaped over the stick like a stag.
"Jump for General Hoche!" Scipio jumped.
"Jump for the King of Prussia!" But then he
seated himself on his tail very firmly, and the
old man began to laugh quietly, his eyes half
shut, saying,
"Yes, he understands politics-ha! ha! ha!
Come!" He passed his hand over the dog's head,
and Scipio seemed very happy.
"Fritzel, you have a dog worth his weight in
gold; he's a true soldier's dog." And looking at
all of us, he added, "I'm going to lend you my
sled, since you have such a good dog; but you
must bring it back at five o'clock, and take care
not to break your necks."
He went out with us, and took his sled from
the shed. My mind was divided between going
to announce to my uncle Scipio's extraordinary
talents, and riding down the Altenberg on our
sled. But when I saw Hans Aden, Frantz Sepel,
and all my companions, some before, some behind,
pushing and pulling, galloping in ecstasy, I could
not resist the pleasure of joining the' party.




132         -MADAME THERESE.
Schmitt watched us from the door:
"Take care not to upset," said he, again.
Then he went in, while we marched along in
the snow.  Scipio leaped at my side.  I leave
you to imagine our joy, our screams and shouts
of laughter, as we went up the hill.
And when we were at the top, Hans Aden in
front, his hands clinging to the sides of the sled,
the rest behind, three together, Scipio in the
middle, and the sled suddenly started, jolting in the
ruts, and spinning over the slopes-what delight!
Ah! we are never young but once.
The sled had hardly started, when Scipio
sprang with one bound over our heads. He
would rather run, leap, bark, roll in the snow
like a child, than go in a sled. But this did
not prevent us from retaining great respect for
his talents. Every time we went up, and he
walked near us, full of dignity, first one, then
the other would turn round, as we pushed our
sled, and say:
"You're very fortunate, Fritzel, to have such a
dog. Adam Schmitt says he's worth his weight
in gold."
"Yes, but he doesn't belong to them," cried another, "he's the woman's."




I'
MADAME THERESE.              133
The idea that he was the woman's dog, disturbed me very much, and I thought, "I hope
they'll both stay at our house!"
We continued to go up and down the hill
until nearly four oclock, Then night began to
fall, and we remembered our promise to Father
Schmitt, and returned to the village.  As we
drew near the old soldier's house we saw him
standing at his door. He had heard us laughing and talking at a distance.
" Here you are," cried he; "nobody's hurt?"
"No, Father Schmitt."
"So much the better."
He put his sled under the shed, and I ran off
without saying  "good-day,"  or  "good-night,'
eager to announce to my uncle what a dog we
had the honor of possessing. This idea made me
so happy that I was home before I knew it.
Scipio was at my heels.
"Uncle Jacob " cried I, opening the door,
"Scipio knows how to drill! Father Schmitt saw
at once that he was a real soldier's dog.  He
made him march on his hind legs like a grenadier, only saying to him'One! two!"'
My uncle was reading behind the stove. Seeing me so enthusiastic, he put his book on the




134          MADAME THERESE.
mantel-piece, and said with an air of astonishment"Is it possible, Fritzel?"
"Yes," cried I, "and he understands politics,
too: he leaps for the Republic and for General
Hoche, but he won't leap for the King of Prussia."
My uncle laughed, and looked at the woman,
who was also smiling, in the alcove, her elbow
on the pillow.
"Madame Therese," said    he, gravely, "you
have not spoken of the remarkable talents of your
dog.  Is it true that Scipio knows so many fine
things?"
"It is true, doctor," she said, caressing the
dog, who had approached the bed, and stretched
out his head to her, joyfully, "Yes, he knows
all that,-he was the amusement of the regiment.
Little Jean taught him something new every day.
Isn't it so, my poor Scipio? Didn't you play at
drogue,* shake the dice for good luck, and beat
the reveille?  tow many times have our father
and two elder brothers, when we halted for the
night, been delighted to see you mount guard?
You made everybody laugh by your air of
* Game played by soldiers and sailors.




MADAME THERESE.               135
gravity and your accomplishments; we forgot
the fatigue of the march as we gathered around
you, and laughed heartily!"
She said this in a tender voice, and was much
moved, although smiling a little.
Scipio had straightened himself up, his paws
on the edge of the bed, to listen to this
praise.
But Uncle Jacob, seeing that Mladame Therese
became more and more agitated by these remembrances, feared they would do her harm, and
said"I'm very glad, Fritzel, that Scipio knows how
to drill, and understands politics; but what have
you been doing since noon?"
"We've been on a sled up the AItenberg,
Father Adam lent us his sled."
"That's very well, but all these doings have
made us forget M. de Buffon and Klopstock. If
this continues, Scipio will soon know more than
you.
He rose and took from the bureau Buffon's Natural History, and put the candle on the
the table. "Come, Fritzel," said he, smiling at my
long face, for I was wishing I had not returned
so soon, "Come!"




136          MADAME THPRESE.
He sat down and took me on his knee.       It
seemed very hard to return to M. de Buffon
after eight days' holiday; but my uncle had so
much patience that I was forced to have some
also, and we began our French lesson. It lasted
an hour, until Lisbeth came to lay the cloth.
Then we turned round, and saw    that Madame
Therese was dozing.  My uncle closed the book
and drew  the curtains, while Lisbeth arranged
the dishes.




IX.
THAT evening, after supper, Uncle Jacob smoked
his pipe in silence behind the stove. I sat before it, drying my pantaloons, Scipio's head between my knees, and watched the red firelight
dancing on the floor. Lisbeth had taken away
the candle as usual; we were in darkness; the
fire burned briskly, as it does in very cold
weather, the clock ticked slowly, and we could
hear the old servant in the kitchen washing her
dishes in the sink.
How many thoughts passed through my head,
then! Sometimes I thought of the dead soldier
in Reebock's barn, and the  black cock in the
window. Sometimes of Father Schmitt making
Scipio go through the drill; then of the Altenberg and our descent on the sled. It all came
back to me like a dream; the plaintive mur



138          MADAME THtRESE.
mur of the fire seemed to me the music of these
remembrances, and I felt my eyes close softly.
About half an hour afterward I was awakened
by the sound of steps in the alley; the door opened,
and the mole-catcher's cheerful voice said:
"Snow, doctor, snow! It's begun to fall again.
We shall have it all night."
Uncle must have been dozing, for a minute
passed before I heard him move, and answer:
"What would you have, mole-catcher? This is
the season. We must expect it now."
Then he rose and went into the kitchen for a
light.
The mole-catcher drew near.
"H ow, Fritzel here!" said he. "You not asleep
yet?"
My uncle returned. I turned my head and saw
that the mole-catcher had his winter clothes on;
his old cap of martin's fur,-the worn-out tail
hanging down his back; his goat-skin jacket,the hair inside, —his red waistcoat with pockets
hanging loosely on his hips, and old brown velvet
breeches, adorned with patches on the knees.  He
was smiling, half-shutting his small eyes, and holdsomething under his arm.
" Have you come for the Gazette, mole-catcher?"




MADAME THERESE.               139
asked Uncle Jacob. "It didn't come this morning.
The messenger is behindhand.
"No, doctor, no. I've come for something else."
He placed on the table an old square book, with
a wooden cover at least quarter of an inch thick,
and covered with large brass ornaments, representing vine leaves. The edges were all blackened and
greasy with age, and from each page hung strings
and threads to mark the right places.
"See why I've come 1" said the mole-catcher, " I
don't need news; when I want to know what's
going on in the world, I open, and look."
Then he smiled and his long yellow teeth
showed themselves under the four hairs of his
moustache, slender as needles.
My uncle said nothing, but drew the table near
the stove, and sat down in his corner.
"Yes," continued the mole-catcher, "everything's
in that, but one must understand-one must unstand!' touching his head dreamily. "The letters
are nothing, it's the spirit-the spirit that one must
understand."
Then he seated himself in the arm-chair, and
took the book in his lap, with a sort of veneration; he opened it, and said, while my uncle
looked at him:




140          MADAME THERESE.
"Doctor, I've told you a hundred times about
the book of my Aunt Roesel of Heming; well,
to-day I have brought it, to show you the past,
the  present, and  the future.  You   will see!
You will see! All that has happened during the
last four years, was written beforehand. I knew
it well, but I wouldn't tell it because of that
Richter, who would have laughed at me, for he
can't see farther than the end of his nose. And
the future, also, is here; but I will only explain
it to you, doctor, who are a sensible, reasonable,
clear-sighted man. This is why I have come."
" Listen, mole-catcher," replied Uncle Jacob.
"I know very well that all is mystery in this
lower world, and I am not conceited enough to
refuse to believe in predictions and miracles related
by such wise authors as Moses, Herodotus, Thucydides, Livy, and many others. But nevertheless,
I respect the will of God too much to wish to
penetrate the secrets hidden by His infinite wisdom. I would rather see in your book the
accomplishment of things already past, than the
future. That will be clearer, too."
"Well, well, you shall know everything!" said
the mole-catcher, satisfied with my uncle's grave
manner. He pulled his chair toward the table,




MADAME THERESE.               141
and leaned the book on the edge, then rummaging in his pocket, drew out a pair of old brass
spectacles, and put them on his nose, which gave
him a very fantastic appearance. MZy interest may
be imagined. I too had approached the table, and
leaning my elbows upon it, my chin in my hands,
I watched him, holding my breath, my eyes staring from my head.
This scene will always be present to me; the
perfect silence of the room, the ticking of the
clock, the murmur of the fire, the candle like a
star in the midst of us; opposite me my uncle
in his dark corner, Scipio at my feet; then the
mole-catcher bending over his book of predictions,
and behind him the little black window-panes,
where the snow was falling in the darkness; I
see it all again, and it even seems as if I can
hear the voice of the poor old mole-catcher, and
that of good Uncle Jacob, both of whom have
been so long in their graves. It was a strange
scene.
"How, mole-catcher," said my uncle, "you need
glasses at your age? I thought your sight was
excellent."
"I don't need them to read ordinary things,
nor to see out-of-doors; I have good eyes. From




142          MADAME TH1RESE.
here I can see, in the spring, a nest of caterpillars in the trees on the side of the Altenberg.
But these glasses belonged to my Aunt Roesel
of Heming, and it's necessary to have them on
to understand this book. Sometimes they trouble
me, but I read over them   or under them. The
principal thing is to have them on my nose."
"Ah, that's different, very different!" said my
uncle, seriously, for he was too kind-hearted to
let the mole-catcher see that he was astonished.
The mole-catcher began to read: "'A. D. 1793.
-The grass is dry, the flower has fallen, because
the wind has blown upon it.' That means that
it is winter; the grass is dry, the flower has
fallen because the wind has" blown upon it."
My uncle nodded, and he continued:
"'The isles saw, and   were seized with foz-;
the ends of the earth were afraid; they approached,
and entered.' That, doctor, means that England
and even the farthest isles of the sea have become
alarmed because of the Republicans.'They approached and entered.' Everybody knows that the
English have landed in Belgium to fight the
French. But listen carefully to the rest.' In that
time the leaders of the people will be like a fire
in the midst of woods, an'd like a torch in the




MADAME THIRESE.               143
midst of sheaves. They will ravage the country
right and left."
The mole-catcher then raised his finger gravely,
and said:
"These are the kings and emperors who advance
in the midst of their armies, and destroy everything in the countries which they cross. Unhappily,
we know these things from having seen them'
Our poor village will remember them a long time."
And as Uncle Jacob did not answer, he continued:
"'In that time, woe to the unfaithful shepherd
who shall abandon his flock; the sword will fall
from his hand, and his right eye will be entirely
darkened.' We see in these words the Bishop of
Mayence, with his nurse and five mistresses, who
made his escape last year on the arrival of General Custine. He was truly an unfaithful shepherd, who caused scandal throughout the country;
his arm is withered, and his right eye is darkened."
"But," said my uncle, "remember, mole-catcher,
that this bishop was not the only one, there were
many more who behaved in the same manner, in
Germany, France, Italy, and everywhere."
"The more reason, doctor; the book speaks for




144          MADAME THERESE.
all the world; "'for,' said he, placing his finger cn
the page,'for, in that time, said the Eternal, I
will take away from the world, false prophets,
doers of miracles, and the spirit of impurity.'
What can that mean, Dr. Jacob, but all these
men who talk incessantly of loving our neighbors,
to obtain our money; who believe nothing, and
menace us with hell; who dress in purple and
gold, and preach humility to us; who say,'Sell
all your goods, and follow Christ,' and heap up
riches upon riches in their palaces and convents;
who recommend faith to us, and laugh among
themselves at the fools who listen to them? Isn't
that the spirit of impurity?"
"Yes," said Uncle Jacob, "it is abominable."
"Well, it is for them, for all the bad shepherds,
that these things are written."
Then he continued:
"'In that time, there will be on the mountains,
the noise of a multitude-of a great people who
are rising-the noise of an assembled nation. The
peoples round about will hear, and every man's
heart will soften. And the haughty will be frightened. The world will be in travail; the good
will look at each other with burning faces; they
will hear for the first time great things spoken




MADAME THERESE.               145
of; they will know that all are equal in the
sight of the Lord, that all have a right to justice,
as the trees of the forest have to light!' "
"Is that written so, mole-catcher?" asked my
uncle.
"You can see for yourself," answered the molecatcher, handing him the book.
Uncle Jacob looked at it with a troubled expression.
"Yes, it is written," said he, in a low voice;
"it is written. Ah, may the Lord accomplish
such great things in our time! May He rejoice
our hearts with such a spectacle!"
Then stopping suddenly, as if astonished at his
own enthusiasm"Is it possible that at my age I allow myself
to be so excited on this subject? I am a child,
a real child!"
He returned the book to the mole-catcher, who
said, smiling,
"I see very well, doctor, that you understand
this passage as I do;-this noise of a great people rising,-it is France that proclaims the rights
of man."
"How! you believe that relates to the French
Revolution?" asked my uncle.




146          MADAME THER]SE.
"To what, then?'tis as clear as the day."
Then he put on his glasses, which he had
taken off, and read:
"'There are seventy weeks in which to consummate the sin, to expiate the iniquity, to bring
about the justice of ages. After which men will
throw their idols of silver to the moles and bats.
And the peoples will say,'Let us beat our swords
into ploughshares, and our spears into pruning
hooks.'"
At this point the mole-catcher leaned his elbows on the book, and rubbing his beard, with
nose upturned, seemed to reflect profoundly. I
could not take my eyes from him. He seemed
to me to see strange things-an unknown world
in the darkness around us. The faint crackling
of the fire and the sighs of Scipio sleeping near
me, produced on me the effects of far-off human
voices, and even the silence disquieted me.
Uncle Jacob seemed to have recovered his calmness. He had just filled his large pipe, and
lit it with a piece of paper, slowly drawing two
or three puffs. He shut the lid and threw himself
back in his chair, with a sigh.
"'Men will cast down their silver idols,"' said
the mole-catcher. "That is to say their crowns,




MADAME THIERESE.              147
florins, and money of all kinds.'They will throw
them to the moles.' That is to the blind, for
you know, doctor, that moles are blind. The unfortunate blind creatures, like Father Harich, are
truly moles. In broad daylight they walk in darkness, as if under ground. In that time men will
give their money to the blind and to the bats.
By bats you must understand the old-old women, who are no longer able to work, who are
bald, and sit in their chimney-corners, like Christine Besme, whom you know as well as I. Poor
Christine is so thin, and has so little hair, that
one naturally thinks when one sees her,'she's a
bat.' 
"Yes, yes," said my uncle, in a peculiar tone,
nodding his head slowly, "it is clear, very clear.
Now I understand your book; it is something
admirable."
"Men will give their money to the blind, and
the old women, in the spirit of charity," continued the mole-catcher, "and that will be the end
of misery in this world; there will be no more
poor people,'in seventy weeks,' which are not
weeks of days, but weeks of months.'They will
beat their swords into ploughshares, to cultivate
the earth, and live in peace!' "




148          MADAME THERESE.
This explanation of the moles and bats had
struck me so forcibly that I remained with eyes
stretched wide open, imagining that I saw this
wonderful transformation in the dark corner where
my uncle sat. I had stopped listening, and the
mole-catcher was continuing his monotonous reading, when the door opened again. I felt my flesh
creep. If old Harich the blind man, and old
Christine, had come in arm in arm, in their new
forms, I would not have been more frightened.
I turned. with my mouth open,-and breathed
freely; it was our friend Koffel, who had come
in. I had to look twice before I recognized him, my
mind was so filled with thoughts of moles and bats.
Koffel wore his old gray winter jacket, a cloth
cap drawn over his ears, and great shoes run
down at the heels, in which he had put old
slippers to go out in. He stood with knees bent
and hands in his pockets, as if he were chilly;
innumerable flakes of snow covered him.
"Good morning, doctor," said he, shaking his
cap in the entry,  I am  late; so many people
stopped me on the way to the'Red Ox,' and the'Little Gold Pitcher.'"
"Come in, Koffel.   Did you close the alley
gate?"




"It was our fr~~~~~~~ien oil"  Pg  4.








MADAME TH.ER'SE.              149
"Yes, Dr. Jacob, never fear."
He came in, and asked smilingly:
"The Gazette didn't come, this morning?"
"No, but we haven't needed it," said my uncle
in a tone of comical good humor. "We have
the mole-catcher's book, which relates the past
the present, and the future."
"Does it also relate our victory?" asked Koffel, approaching the stove.  My uncle and the
mole-catcher looked at each other in astonishment.
"What victory?" asked the latter.
"Ah, that of the day before yesterday, at
Kaiserslautern. They are talking of nothing else
in the village. It was Richter, M. Richter, who
came up at two o'clock to bring the news.
They've already emptied fifty bottles at the
Little Gold Pitcher' in honor of the Prussians; the
Republicans are entirely put to rout!"
When he spoke of the Republicans we looked
toward the alcove, fearing that the French woman might hear us. It pained us, for we knew
that she was a good woman, and we thought
this news would cause her much suffering.
Uncle- Jacob raised his hand and shook his head
sadly, then got up softly and half-opened the
curtains to see if Madame Therese was asleep.




150          MADAME THERESE.
"It is you, doctor," she said immediately; "I
have listened to the mole-catcher's predictions for
an hour; I have heard all."
"Ah, Madame Therese," said my uncle, "The
news is false."
"I don't think so, doctor. From the moment a
battle was fought at Kaiserslautern, day before
yesterday, we must have been defeated; otherwise the French would have marched at once
upon Landau to raise the siege, and cut off the
retreat of the Austrians. Their right wing would
have passed through the village." Then raising
her voice, "M. Koffel, will you tell me the details
that you know."
This scene will always remain in my memory
above all others, for we saw that night what a
woman we had saved, and we learned, also, what
that French race was which had risen en masse to
convert the world.
The mole-catcher had taken the candle from
the table and we were all in the alcove. I, at
the foot of the bed, with     Scipio beside me,
looked on in silence, and saw for the first time
that Madame Therese had become so thin that
she looked like a man; her long bony face with
its straight nose,-the shape of her eyes,-the




MADAME THERESE.               151
sharp chin leaning on her hand; her lean brown
arm  was bared   nearly to the elbow, escaping
from the sleeves of Lisbeth's coarse chemise; a
red silk handkerchief tied over her forehead
hung down behind on her neck. We could not
see her beautiful black hair, but only some little
locks over her ears, from which hung large
gold rings. What particularly attracted my attention was a medal of bronze which hung from
her neck, representing a young girl in a cap
shaped like a casque. I knew afterward that it
was the image of the Republic, but I thought it
then the Holy Virgin of the French. As the
mole-catcher raised the candle, the alcove was
lighted up, and Madame Therese seemed to me
much   taller.  Her  feet, under the   covering,
reached the foot of the bed.  I had never before noticed these things which impressed me then.
She looked at Koffel, who looked anxiously at
Uncle Jacob, as if to ask him what he must do.
"These are reports which are current in the
village,"  said  he with  embarrassment;  "That
Richter is not to be relied upon.
"It is all the same, M. Koffel, tell me the
news. The doctor allows it. Do you not, doctor?"




152          MADAME THERESE
"Certainly," said my uncle, reluctantly, "but we
must not believe all we hear."
"No-they exaggerate, I know very well; but
it is better to know the truth than to imagine
a thousand things; it is less tormenting."
Koffel then told us that two days before, the
French had attacked Kaiserslautern, and. from seven
in the morning until night, had fought terribly,
trying to enter the intrenchments; the Prussians
had destroyed them by thousands; one saw
only dead bodies in the ditches on the hill-sides,
along the roads and in the Lauter. The French
had abandoned everything; their cannon, armywagons, guns and pouches.  They were massacred
everywhere, and Brunswick's cavalry, sent in pursuit, had taken a great number of prisoners.
Madame Therese, her chin leaning on her hand,
her eyes fixed on the opposite wall, and lips
compressed, said nothing. She listened, and when
Koffel wished to stop, for it gave him much
pain to relate these things before the poor woman,-she looked at him very calmly, and he continued, saying,
"They say this, or that, but I don't believe
it."
At last he finished, and Madame Therese re



MADAME TBERjSE.               153
mained silent, lost in thought, for a few minutes,
Then my uncle said:
"All these are only rumors;-we know nothing positively. You would do wrong to grieve,
Madame Therese."
She raised herself slightly, leaning against the
bedstead, and said very simply,
"Listen, it is clear that we have been repulsed.
But do not think, doctor, that that discourages
me. No; this affair, which seems very considerable to you, is but a little thing to me. I saw
this same Brunswick arrive in Champagne, at the
head of a hundred thousand veterans, uttering
proclamations in which there was no common
sense, menacing all France, and then driven back
by peasants in wooden shoes, at the point of the
bayonet, as far as Prussia. My father,-a poor
school-master,  who  had   become   major,-my
brothers-poor laborers, who had become captains through their courage,-and I behind, with
little Jean in my cart, escorted him, after the defiles of the Argonne and the battle of Valmy. Do
not think then that these things alarm me. We
are not a hundred thousand men, nor two hundred thousand; we are six million peasants, who
mean to eat, ourselves, the bread that we have




154          MADAME THERESE.
earned by our hard labor. It is just, and God
is with us."
She said this with animation, extending her
long bony arm. The mole-catcher, my uncle and
Koffel looked at each other in stupefied amazement.
"It is not one defeat, nor twenty, nor a hundred which can conquer us," she continued. "When
one of us falls, ten others rise. It is not for
the King of Prussia, nor the Emperor of Germany, that we march; it is for the abolition of
privileges of all kinds, for liberty, for justice, for
the rights of man. In order to conquer us it
would be necessary to exterminate every one of
us," added she with a strange smile, "and that
is not so easy as they may think.    Only it is
very unfortunate that so many thousands of good
men, on your side, should suffer themselves to be
massacred for kings and nobles, who are their
greatest enemies, when simple good sense ought
to tell them to join us, to drive away all these
oppressors of the poor. Yes, this is very unfortunate, and gives me more pain than all the
rest."
She lay down again, and Uncle Jacob remained
silent for some moments, astonished at the justice




MADAME THERESE.                155
of her words. The mole-catcher and Koffel looked
at each other in silence; but it was easy to sea
that the Frenchwoman's reflections had struck them;
and that they were thinking:
"She is right!"
At last my uncle said:
"Be calm, Madame Therese, be calm! All will
be well. We agree in many things; if it depended
upon me, we would soon be at peace."
"Yes, doctor, I know  it, for you are a just
man, and we only want justice."
"Try to forget all that," said  Uncle Jacob
again. "Nothing is so necessary as quiet, if you
wish to get well."
"I will try, doctor."
Then we came out of the alcove, and my uncle
looking at us dreamily, said:
"It is almost ten o'clock. We must go to bed
-it is time."
He saw Koffel and the mole-catcher out, and
pushed the bolt as usual. I had already gone up
stairs. That night I heard him walking in his
room a long time. He paced up and down with
the slow measured step of a man who is reflecting. At last every sound ceased, and I went to
sleep under God's protection.




X.
THE next morning, when I awoke, my little
windows were covered with snow. It was still
falling so that I could not see the opposite
house. Out-of-doors the bells of Uncle Jacob's
sleigh were tinkling, and his horse, Rappel, was
neighing, but no other sound was heard; the
people in the village had all been careful to close
their doors. I thought it must be something extraordinary that could call my uncle out in such
weather, and after dressing, hurried down stairs
to find out what it could be. The door was open;
Uncle Jacob, up to his knees in snow, his large
otter-skin cap drawn over his ears, and the collar
of his overcoat turned up, was hastily arranging
a bundle of straw in the sled.
"Are you going away, uncle?" I said, going to
the door.




I ~
MADAME THERESE.               157
"Yes, Fritzel, yes, I'm going away," said he in
a joyful tone. "Do you want to go with me?"
I liked very much to go in the sleigh, but seeing the great snow-flakes whirling through the
air, and thinking it would be cold, I answered:
"Another day, uncle; I'd rather stay at home
to-day."
Then he laughed, and came in again, pinching
my ear, as he always did when in a good humor. We went into the kitchen where the fire
was dancing on the hearth, and giving out good
heat. Lisbeth was washing dishes before the little
window with round panes, which opened on the
yard. All was quiet in the kitchen. The great
soup tureens seemed to shine more than usual,
and on their rounded   sides danced fifty little
flames, like those on the hearth.
"Now I'm ready," said my uncle, opening the
larder, and putting a crust of bread in his pocket.
He put under his coat the flask of kirschenwasser, which he always carried in travelling. Then,
as he was about to enter the sitting-room, his
hand on the latch, he told the old servant not
to forget his directions; to keep up good fires
everywhere; to leave the door open that she
might hear Madame Therese, and to give her all




158            MADAME THIRESE.
she asked for, except anything to eat,-for she
must have only broth morning and evening, with
vegetables,-and not to contradict her in anything.
Then he went in, and I followed, thinking what
pleasure I should have when he was gone, running
about the village with my friend Scipio, and proudly
displaying his talents.
"Well, Madame Therese," said Uncle Jacob,
gaily, "here I am, ready for departure. What
fine weather to go sleighing!"
Madame Therese raised herself on her elbow in
the alcove the curtains were drawn aside-and
looked toward the windows with a melancholy
expression.
"Are you going to see a patient, doctor?" said
she.
"Yes, a poor wood-cutter of Dannboch, three
leagues from here, who was run over by his sled.
It is a serious injury and will allow of no delay."
"What a hard business yours is!" said she,
sympathizingly. "To go out in such weather as
this to help an unfortunate man, who will, perhaps, never appreciate your services."
"Ah, no doubt," said my uncle, filling his large
porcelain pipe, "that has often happened, but
what would you have? Because a man is poor




MADAME THEIRESE.              159
is no reason why we should let him die; we are
all brothers, Madame Therese, and the poor have
a right to live as well as the rich."
"Yes, you are right, and yet how many in your
place would remain quietly by their fireside, instead of risking their lives only for the pleasure
of doing good." And raising her eyes expressively, she added: "Doctor, you are a Republican."
"I, Madame Therese! What do you mean?"
cried he, laughing.
"Yes, a true Republican-a man who stops at
nothing, who disregards all suffering, all privation, to do his duty."
"Well, if you understand it so, I am happy to
deserve that name. But in all parties and all
countries in the world, there are such men."
"Then, M. Jacob, they are Republicans without
knowing it."
My uncle could not help smiling.
"You have a reply for everything," said he,
putting his package of tobacco into the large
pocket of his overcoat; "one cannot argue with
you."
A few minutes' silence followed these words.
My uncle struck a light. I had Scipio's head in




160          MADAME THERESE.
my arms, and was thinking: "I hold you. You'll
follow me. We'll come back to dinner, and then
we'll go out again." The horse was neighing outside; Madame Therese was watching the great
flakes which fell against the panes, when my
uncle, who had lighted his pipe, said:
"I shall be absent until evening. But Fritzel
will keep you company. The time will not seem
too long."
He passed his hand through my hair, and I
became as red as a lobster, which made Madame
Therese smile.
"Oh, no, doctor," said she, kindly, "it never
wearies me to be alone; we must let Fritzel run
out with Scipio; it will do them good. And they
would rather breathe the fresh air than be shut
up in the room-isn't it so, Fritzel?"
"Oh yes, Madame Therese!" replied I, giving.
a great sigh of relief.
"How! aren't you ashamed to speak in that
manner?" cried my uncle.
"WThy not, doctor? Fritzel is like little Jean;
he says whatever he thinks, and he is right. Go,
Fritzel, run, amuse yourself: your uncle gives
you leave."
How I loved her then, and how sweet her




MADAME THiRESE.                161
smile appeared to me! Uncle Jacob laughed,
took his whip from the corner behind the door,
and said:
"Well, Madame Therese, au revoir and good
courage!"
"Au revoir, doctor," said she, with feeling, extending her slim hand to him. "Go, and heaven
guard you."
They remained thus for some moments, thoughtful, then my uncle said:
"I shall be back this evening between six and
seven, Madame Therese; have faith, be tranquil,
and all will go well."
Then we went out. He sprang into the sleigh,
wrapped his overcoat around his knees, touched
Rappel with his whip, saying to me,
"Behave yourself, Fritzel!"
The sleigh glided noiselessly away up the street.
Some good people who were looking from their
windows, said:
"Dr. Jacob is surely called somewhere to a
person dangerously ill, otherwise he would not
travel in such a snow."
When my uncle had disappeared round the
corner of the street, I closed the door, and went
in to eat my soup by the fire. Scipio watched




162          MADAME THERESE.
me, his great moustaches upturned, licking his
mouth and winking. I let him have my plate to
clean, as usual, which he did gravely, not greedily,
like the other dogs in the village. We had finished, and were going out, when Lisbeth, who had
just done her work, and was wiping her arms
on the towel behind the door, said:
"What, Fritzel, are you not going to stay at
home?"
"No, I'm going to see little Hans Aden."
"Well, listen. Since you've put on your boots,
go to the mole-catcher's to get some honey for
the Frenchwoman. The doctor wants her to have
a drink with honey in it. Take your cup and
go down there.   Tell the mole-catcher it's for
Uncle Jacob. Here's the money."
Nothing pleased me more than to have errands
to do, especially at the mole-catcher's, who treated
me as a reasonable man should. I took the cup,
and started with Scipio for his house in Orties
Lane, behind the church. Some gossips were
beginning to sweep their sidewalks. At the inn
of the Little Golden Pitcher we could hear the
glasses and bottles tinkling. They were singing
and laughing and going up and down stairs; which
seemed to me extraordinary on Friday. I stopped




MADAME TH1RESE.               163
to see if it were a wedding or a christening,
and as I stood on tiptoe, on the other side of
the street, looking into the little open entry, I
saw, in the kitchen, the mole-catcher's singular
profile bending over the fire, his black stump of
a pipe in the corner of his mouth, his brown
hand placing a coal on the tobacco. Farther on
to the right I saw, too, old Gredel in her cap
with floating ribbons. She was arranging plates
on a dresser, and her gray cat walked on the
edge of it, setting up her back, and holding her
tail in the air.
In a moment the mole-catcher came slowly
into the dark entry smoking his pipe. Then
I cried:
"Mole-catcher! mole-catcher!"
He came to the edge of the steps, and said,
laughing:
"Is it you, Fritzel?"
"Yes, I'm  going to your house to get some
honey."
"Well, come up, then, and take a drink. We'll
go together at once." And turning toward the
kitchen, "Gredel," cried he, "bring a glass for
Fritzel."
I ran up the steps, and we went in, with Scipio




164          MADA ME THEREiSE.
at our heels. In the saloon we could see through
the gray smoke, along the tables, men in blouses,
in jackets, in waistcoats, their caps or felt hats
drawn over their ears. Some seated in a row,
others astride benches, raising their full glasses
joyfully, and  celebrating  the  great victory  of
Kaiserslautern. On all sides we heard them singing the "Fatherland." Some old women were
drinking with their sons, and seemed as merry
as the others.
I followed the mole-catcher toward the windows that overlooked the street. There we found
friend Koffel and old Adam Schmitt in the corner, before a bottle of white wine. In the opposite corner were the innkeeper, Joseph Spick,
his woolen cap drawn over his ears, like a bully,
and M. Richter in hunting-jacket and great leather
gaiters, drinking a bottle of green-sealed gleiszeller. They were both purple, up to their earsand were shouting:
"To the health of Brunswick! To the health
of our glorious army!"
"Here!" said the mole-catcher, approaching our
table, "make room for a man!"
And Koffel, turning round, shook my hand
while Father Schmitt said:




MADAME THER1ESE.              165
"Well and good, well and good, here's a reinforcement for us!"
He seated me near him, against the wall, and
Scipio came immediately to rub his hand with
the end of his nose, with the air of an old
acquaintance.
"Ha! ha! ha!" said the old soldier: "it's you,
old fellow-you know me!"
Gredel brought a glass, and the mole-catcher
filled it.  At that moment, M. Richter cried
sneeringly, from the other end of the table:
"Ha, Fritzel! how's Dr. Jacob? He doesn't
come to celebrate the great battle! It is astonishing, astonishing, such a good patriot!"
And I, not knowing what to reply, said in a
low tone to Koffel:
"Uncle has gone in his sleigh to see a poor
wood-cutter, who was run over by his sled."
Then Koffel, turning, cried in a clear voice"While the grandson of Salm-Salm's old servant stretches out his legs under the table, near
the stove, and drinks gleiszeller in honor of the
Prussians who laugh at him, Dr. Jacob     goes
through the snow to see a poor wood-cutter on
the mountain, who has been run over by his
sled. That pays less than lending money on




166         MADAME THERESE.
heavy interest. but it shows more heart, nevertheless."
Koffel had drunk a little too much, and all
the men were listening   and smiling.  Richter,
with a long face and compressed lips, did not
answer at first, but after a moment he said"What wouldn't we do for the love of the
Rights of Man, for the Goddess of Reason, and
the Maximum, above all when a real citoyenne
encourages you!"
"M. Richter, be silent!" cried the mole-catcher
in a loud voice. "Dr. Jacob is as good a German   as you, and that woman, of whom      you
speak without knowing her, is a good woman.
Dr. Jacob has only done his duty in saving her
life. You ought to be ashamed to excite the men
of the village against a poor sick creature who
can't defend herself: it's abominable!"
"I'll be silent when it suits me," cried Richter in  his turn.  "You   talk  very loud-one
would think that the French   had   gained the
victory!"
Then the mole-catcher, his face as red as fire,
struck his fist on the table, making the glasses fall
over. He partly rose, but reseated himself, and said:
"I have a right to rejoice in the victories of




/ ~ ~~~:        /
Mr. Karolus Richter and Jacob Spick,  [Page 166.]








I a
MADAME THERESE.              167
old Germany, at least quite as much as you, M.
Richter, for I am an old German like my father, and my grandfather, and all the mole-catchers known for two hundred years in the village
of Anstatt for the raising of.: bees, and the
catching of moles; while the cooks of the SalmSalms wandered through France with their masters, to turn the spit, and lick the bottom of the
pots."
Everybody in the room burst out laughing at
this speech, and M. Richter, seeing that most of
them were against him, judged it prudent to
be moderate, and replied, therefore, in a calm
tone:
"I've never said anything against you nor Dr.
Jacob; on the contrary, I know that the doctor's
an able man, and an honest man. But that doesn't
prevent every good German from rejoicing on such
a day. For, listen, it's not an ordinary victory,
it's the end of that famous Republic,'one and indivisible.' "
"How! how!" cried old Schmitt, "the end of
the Republic? That's a piece of news!"
"Yes, it won't last six months longer," said
Richter with assurance, "for, from Kaiserslautern
the French will be driven to Hornbach, from




168          MADAME THERESE.
Hornbach to Sarrebruck, to Metz, and thus to Paris
Once in France we will find crowds of friends
to help us; the nobility, the clergy, and the respectable people are all on our side. They only
await the coming of our army to rise.  And as to
this troop of beggars, gathered from right and
left, without officers and without discipline, what
can they do against old soldiers, firm as rocks, advancing in order of battle, under the lead of the
old warrior race? Crowds of bunglers without a
single general, without even a real corporal schlague!
Peasants, mendicants, true'sans culottes,' as they
call themselves,-I ask you what can they do
against Brunswick, Wurmser, and hundreds of
other old captains, tried by all'the perils of the
Seven Years' War? They will be scattered and
will perish by thousands like grasshoppers in autumn."
Everybody in the room seemed to be of Richter's opinion, and several said:
"Well and    good, he speaks truly.    We've
thought the same for a long time."
The mole-catcher and Koffel were silent; but
old Adam Schmitt shook his head and smiled.
After a moment's silence he laid his pipe on the
table, and said:




MADAME THERESE.               169
"M. Richter, you speak like an almanac; you
predict the future in an admirable manner; but
it's not all so clear to others as to you.  I am
willing'to believe that the old race is born to make
generals, since nobles all come into the world captains. But occasionally generals can also come
from the race of peasants, and they do not make
the worst ones, for they become generals through
their own bravery. These Republicans, who seem
to you such fools, have sometimes good ideas, for
all that; for example, they have a rule that any
one can become a field-marshal, if he have the
courage and capacity; on this account all the soldiers fight furiously. They hold in their ranks as
firmly as if they were nailed,, and march forward
like cannon balls, for they know that if they distinguish themselves they have a chance of becoming captains, colonels, or generals. The Germans
fight to give themselves masters; the French
fight to get rid of them; which makes a great
difference. I watched them from Father Diemer's
window, on the first floor, opposite the fountain,
during the two charges of the Croats and lancers-magnificent charges;-well, it astonished me
very much, M. Richter, to see how those Jacobins bore themselves. And their colonel gave
8




170          MADAME THiRESE.
me real pleasure, with his great Lorraine peasant's face, and small wild-boar's eyes. He wasn't
as well dressed as a Prussian major, but he sat
his horse as tranquilly as if they were playing
an air on the clarionet for him. They retreated
at last, it is true, but they had a division at
their backs, and left only the guns and pouches
of the dead on the square. Such soldiers, believe me, M. Richter, are men of expedients.
The old warrior races are good, but the young
grow in their shade, as young dogs under large
ones, and when the old decay the young take
their place. I do not believe, therefore, that the
Republicans run away as you say. They are
already famous soldiers, and if a general or two
comes, take care!  And this is not at all impossible, for among twelve or fifteen hundred
thousand peasants there's more choice than between  ten  or  twelve  thousand  nobles.  The
race  is not so fine, perhaps, but it's stronger!"
Old Schmitt stopped a moment to take breath,
and then, as everybody was listening, added"Here am I, for example; if I had had the
happiness of being born in such a country, do
you believe that I would have contented myself




I t.
MADAME THERESE.              171
with being Adam Schmitt, with a pension of a
hundred florins, six  wounds and fifteen campaigns?  No, no, drive that idea out of your
head.  I should have been captain, colonel of
general Schmitt, with a good pension of two
thousand dollars, or else my bones would have been
resting somewhere, long ago.  When courage is
a  highway  to  distinction, one  has  courage,
and when it serves only to make one a sergeant
and promote the nobles, each one takes care of
his skin."
"And education," cried Richter, "do you count
education nothing? Is a man who don't know
how to read worth as much as a Duke of Brunswick who knows everything?"
Then Koffel, turning, said calmly,
"You are right, M. Richter, education makes
half, perhaps three-quarters of a man.  This is
why these Republicans fight to the death; they
wish their sons to receive education as well as
the nobles. It is the want of education which
causes bad conduct and poverty; poverty causes
wicked temptations, and wicked temptations lead
to all the vices.  The greatest crime of those
who govern in this world is refusing education
to the poor, so that their noble race may always




172          MADAME THERESE.
be above them. It is as if they put out people's eyes when they come into the world, to
profit by their labor. God will avenge these sins,
M. Richter, for He is just.  And if the Republicans shed their blood, as they say, to prevent
ouch abuses, all religious men who believe in
immortality ought to approve of them." So Koffel spoke, adding that if his parents had been
able to educate him, he might perhaps have done
honor to Anstatt, and have been of some use, instead of being a poor devil.
Every one agreed with him, and several said
among themselves:
"What would we have been if we had been educated? Are we more stupid than other people?
No, heaven gives to all the bright sun and the
heavy dew.  We had good intentions: we appealed for justice; but they left us in the darkness, in a spirit of calculation, to keep us down.
These men think to elevate themselves by preventing others from rising; it is abominable!"
And I, remembering how much trouble Uncle
Jacob had taken to teach me to read in Button,
repented that I had not profited more by his
lessons, and was much affected. M. Richter, seeing everybody against him, and not knowing how




MADAME THERESE.               173
to reply to Koffel's judicious words, shrugged his
shoulders as if to say, "These are. fools inflated
with pride, creatures who need to be brought to
reason." But silence was beginning to prevail,
and the mole-catcher had just ordered a second
bottle to be brought, when dull growls were
heard under the table.   We at once saw     M.
Richter's great red dog walking around Scipio.
This dog was called Max; his hair was short,
his nose flat, and his ribs protruding; he had
yellow  eyes, long ears, and  tail raised like a
sabre.  He was large, lean and muscular. ]M.
Richter was accustomed to hunt with him whole
days without giving him anything to eat, under
pretext that good hunting dogs ought to be hungry to scent the game and follow in its track. He
wanted to get behind Scipio, who kept turning
round, his head raised, and his lips trembling.
Looking toward M. Richter, I saw   that he was
slily urging his dog  on.  Father Schmitt noticed it also, for he said:
"M. Richter, you are wrong to urge your dog.
This spaniel you see is a soldier's dog, full of
cunning, and knows all the stratagems of war.
Yours may be of an old race, but take care —
this dog's capable of strangling him."




174          MADAME THERESE.
"Strangle my dog!" cried Richter. "He could
swallow ten like this miserable cur. With a single bite he could break his back!"
When I heard this, I wanted to run away with
Scipio, for M. Richter was urging his great Max,
and all the drinkers turned round, laughing, to
see the battle. I was going to cry, but old
Schmitt held me by the shoulder, saying in a
low voice:
"Be quiet, be quiet,-fear nothing, Fritzel. I
tell you our dog understands politics-the other
is only a great beast that has seen nothing of
the world." And turning to Scipio, he said to
him again and again, "Attention! attention!"
Scipio did not stir. He stood back in the
corner of the window, his head erect, his eyes
shining under his thick curly hair, and in the
corner of his trembling moustache we could see
one very sharp-pointed white tooth. The big red
dog advanced, his head stretched forward, and
his hair standing up on his lean back. They
both growled; then Max made a leap to seize
Scipio by the throat. Three or four short, terrible cries were heard. Scipio had bent down
while the other caught him  by the hair, and
with one bite he snapped at his paw. Then you




MADAME THERESE.                175
should have heard Max's distressing cries, and
seen him steal off, limping, under the tables; he
fled like lightning between the legs of the guests,
repeating his sharp cries, which pierced one's
ears. M. Richter rose furiously to attack Scipio,
but the mole-catcher took his stick from behind
the door, and said:
"M. Richter, if your great beast is bitten,
whose fault is it?  You urged him  on to do it.
If he is maimed now, it will teach you better."
And old Schmitt, laughing and crying, called
Scipio between his knees, and said,
"I knew very well that he understood the
stratagems of war! He! he! he! we've brought off
the flags and the cannon!"
All his audience laughed with him, so that M.
Richter angrily kicked his dog into the street
so as not to hear his cries. He would have been
glad to do the same to Scipio, but everybody
was astonished at the dog's courage, and natural
good sense.
"Come," cried the mole-catcher, rising, "come
now, Fritzel, it's time I gave you what you
wanted.  I congratulate you, M. Richter; you
have a famous dog. Gredel, set down two bottles
on the slate."




176            MADAME THIRESE.
Schmitt and Koffel also rose, and we all went
out together, laughing heartily. Scipio kept near
us, knowing that he had nothing good to hope
for when we were gone. At the foot of the steps,
Schmitt and Koffel turned to the right to go
down the main street, and the mole-catcher and
I crossed the square, on the left, to Orties Lane.
The mole-catcher walked in front, stooping, one
shoulder higher than the other, as was his habit, drawing great puffs, one after another, from
his pipe, and laughing to himself, doubtless at
the remembrance of Richter's discomfiture. We
soon arrived at his small door, which was in
the basement. As we went down the steps, he
said to me:
"Come, Fritzel, come; leave the dog outside,
for there's none too much room in the hole."
He was right in calling his hut a "hole," for
it had only two little windows, even with the
grcmnd, opening on the street. Inside, all was
dark; the large bed and the wooden staircase,
the old stools, the table covered with saws, brads
and tweezers, the wardrobe adorned with two
squashes, the ceiling crossed by poles where old
Berbel, the mole-catcher's mother, hung the hemp
which she had spun; traps of all sorts placed




MADAME TH1RESE.               177
on the canopy of the bed, in an alcove gray with
dust and cobwebs; hundreds of martens' and
weasels' skins hanging from the walls, some turned
inside out, others still fresh and stuffed with
straw  to dry them;-all these left you  hardly
room enough to turn round, and the thought of
them recalls the happy time of my youth, for I
have seen them a hundred times, summer and
winter, rain or shine, whether the little windows
were open or shut. I always picture the molecatcher to myself, in that room, seated at the
table, showing his traps, his mouth twisted, lips
compressed, and old Berbel,-yellow-skinned, her
horse-hair cap on the back of her head, her little dry hands with long black nails, streaked
with large blue veins, spinning from morning till
night beside the stove.  Once in a while she
would raise her old wrinkled face, and look at
her son with an air of satisfaction. But that day
Berbel was not in a good humor, for we had
hardly entered before she began to scold the
mole-catcher in a sharp voice, declaring that he
was passing his life at the tavern, that he thought
of nothing but drinking, and did not provide for
the future-false  charges, to  which  the molecatcher did not reply, knowing that he must hear




178          MADAME THERESE.
all his mother said  without complaining.   He
quietly opened the closet while old Berbel scolded,
and took from the highest shelf a large glazed
earthen pot, in which honey as yellow as gold,
in combs white as snow, lay in regular layers,
He put it on the table, and taking out two fine
combs, which he put on a very clean plate, said
to me:
"Here's some beautiful honey for the French
lady, Fritzel. Honey in the comb is the best
thing in the world for sick people. It is nicer,
and then it is so fresh and wholesome!"
I had already placed the money on the edge
of the table, and Berbel was stretching out her
hand for it, very willingly, but the mole-catcher
gave it back to me.
" No," said he, "no; I won't be paid for it;
put the money in your pocket, Fritzel, and take
the plate.  Leave your pot here.   I'll take it
to you this evening, or to-morrow morning."
And as the old woman seemed angry, he added:
"Tell the French lady, Fritzel, that the molecatcher makes her a present of this honey
with pleasure-do you hear?-with all his heart
-for she's a respectable woman. Don't forget to
say'respectable,'-do you mind?"




MADAME THERESE.                179
"Yes, mole-catcher, I'll tell her. Good-day, Berbel," said I, opening the door."
She answered by nodding her head abruptly.
The avaricious old woman would not say anything
on Uncle Jacob's account, but it seemed very hard
to her to see the honey going without being paid
for. The mole-catcher saw me out, and I turned
homeward, well satisfied  with  what had   just
happened.




XI.
AT the corner of the church I met little Hans
Aden, who was coming back from sliding on the
pond. He turned round, his hands in his pockets up to his elbows, and called out:
"Fritzel! Fritzel!"
When I came up, he looked at the honey, and
said:
"Is that for you?"
"No, it's to make a drink for the French
lady."
"I'd like to be sick in her place," said he,
licking his thick lips, expressively. Then he added:
"What are you going to do this afternoon?"
"I don't know-I shall go to walk with Scipio."
He looked at the dog, and stroking his back,
said:
"Listen: if you'd like, we'll go to lay traps




~MADA ME THERESE.             181
behind the dunghills of the Postthal; there are
a good many greenfinches and sparrows along
the hedges, under the sheds, and in the trees
of the Postthal."
"I'd like it very much," said I.
"Yes, meet me here on the steps. We'll go
together."
Before we parted, Hans asked me to let him
put his finger on the bottom of the plate. I
assented, and he found the honey very good.
After which, each of us took his own way, and
I reached home about half-past eleven.
"Ah, here you are!" cried Lisbeth, as I entered
the kitchen; "I thought you were never coming
back. Heavens! must you take so much time to
do an errand?"
I told her about my meeting the mole-catcher on
the steps of the Little Golden Pitcher, the dispute
of Koffel, old Schmitt and the mole-catcher with M.
Richter, the great battle between Max and Scipio,
and finally the manner in which the mole-catcher
had told me to say that he wanted no money
for his honey, and that he offered it with all
his heart to the French lady, who was a "respectable" person. As the door was open, Madame
Therese heard me, and told me to come in. I




182          MADAME'HYRESE,
saw that she was touched, and when I gave her
the honey she accepted it.
"Well, Fritzel, well," said she with tears in
her eyes, "I am pleased, much pleased with this
present. The respect of honest men always gives
us much pleasure. I will thank the mole-catcher
myself, when he comes."
Then she leaned forward, and put her hand on
the head of Scipio, who was standing beside the
bed, looking up at her. She smiled, and said:
"Scipio, you also sustain the good cause, then?'
The dog, seeing joy sparkle in her eyes, began to bark loudly. He fell back on his hind
legs, as if to go through the drill.
"Yes, yes, I'm better now," said she, "I feel
much stronger. Ah! we have suffered so much!"
Then, sighing, she leaned back on the pillow,
and said:
"Good news-only good news, and all will be
well!"
Lisbeth had finished setting the table. She said
nothing, and  Madame Therese fell into a revery. The clock struck twelve, and a few minutes after the old servant brought in the little
tureen of soup for herself and me. She made
the sign of the cross, and we ate our dinner.




MADAME THERESE.               183
Every moment I turned my head to see if
Hans Aden was already on the church steps.
Madame Therese had lain down again, turning
her back to us, and drawing the blanket over
her.  Doubtless she had still much uneasiness.
I thought only of the dunghills of the Postthal.
Already I could see our brick traps, placed
around in the snow, the lids raised, supported
by two little wooden sticks, and grains of wheat
scattered on the edge and in the bottom. I saw
the greenfinches flying from tree to tree, and the
sparrows in a row on the edges of the roofs,
calling, watching, listening, while we, hidden in
the shed behind heaps of hay, waited, our hearts
throbbing  with  impatience.  Then  a sparrow
would light on the dunghill, his tail spread out
like a fan-then another, then all the flock.
There they   are! There they   are!  near our
traps!  They're  coming  down-three of them
are hopping about and pecking at the grains of
wheat.  Frouu! they all fly away at once. It's
some noise on the farm-it's the boy Yeri with
his great wooden shoes, who's just shouted to
one of the horses in the stable, "Come, turn
round, Foux!" What a misfortune! If the horses
were only dead, and Yeri with'them! Well, we




184          MADAME THERESE.
must still wait-the sparrows have gone fai
away. Suddenly one of them begins to cry again
-they are coming back to the roof. Ah! if
Yeri will only not shout again-if he'll only be
quiet-if there were only no people on the farm
nor in the road! What anxiety!     At last one
comes down   again-Hans pulls my jacket-we
hold our breath-we are dumb with hope and
fear! All this I saw beforehand and I could not
keep quiet.
"In heaven's name, what's the matter with
you?" said Lisbeth, "You're fidgeting like a soul
in torment-do keep still."
I did not hear her, with my nose flattened
against the window-pane: I was thinking"Will he come or won't he come? Perhaps
he's already down there-he may have taken somebody else with him!"
This idea seemed terrible to me.
I was going to run out, when at last I saw
Hans Aden crossing the Square. He was looking toward our house, watching for me. I was
already in the alley, and opened the gate without calling Scipio this time. Then I ran close
to the wall, for fear of some errand or other
hindrance;-so many misfortunes do happen to




MADAME THERESE.               185
one in this world! It was not till we were
far from the house, in Orties Lane, that Hans
and I stopped to take breath.
"Have you some wheat, Hans?"
" Yes."
"And your knife?"
"Be easy-here it is.    But, Fritzel, I can't
carry everything-you must take the bricks, and
I'll take the tiles."
"Yes; come on."
And we crossed the fields back of the village,
through snow up to our waists.    If the molecatcher, Koffel, or my uncle, himself, had called
us then, we would have run on like thieves, without turning our heads.
We soon came to the old abandoned kiln, for they
rarely bake bricks in the winter, and took our
load of bricks. Then, re-crossing the meadow, we
climbed over the hedges of the Postthal, all covered with frost, just opposite the large square
dunghills back of the stables and out-house. We
could see the sparrows far above us, sitting in a
row on the edges of the roofs.
"I told you so," cried Hans; "listen-listen!"
Then we placed our traps, clearing away the
snow from the ground.    Hans cut little sticks,




186          MADAME THERESE.
placed the tiles very carefully, and then scattered
wheat all around. The sparrows watched us from
the roofs, lightly turning their heads, without moving a wing. Hans rose, wiping his nose on
the back his sleeve, and looking up, winking, so
as to see the sparrows.
"Come," said he in a low voice, "they're going to come down."
We went into the shed, full of high hopes,-and
at that moment all the flock disappeared. We
thought they would come back; but until nearly four o'clock we remained squatted down behind the heaps of hay, without hearing the cry
of a single sparrow. They understood what we
were doing, and had flown far away to the
other end of the village.
Imagine our despair!   Hans, notwithstanding
his good disposition, was terribly angry, and I
indulged in the saddest reflections, thinking there
was nothing more foolish than wanting to catch
sparrows in the winter, when they were nothing
but skin and bones,-and it would take four of
them to make a mouthful.
At last, tired of waiting, and seeing that it
was getting dark, we returned to the village
through the main street, shivering, with our




MADAME THERESE.                187
hands in our pockets, moist noses, and caps draw
over our ears, in a dismal manner.
It was night when I got home. Lisbeth was
preparing supper; but as I felt rather ashamed
to tell her how the sparrows had fooled us,
I opened the door of the sitting-room softly, and
sat down quietly behind the stove, instead of
running into the kitchen as usual.
Nothing stirred. Scipio was sleeping under the
arm-chair curled up in a heap, and I had
been warming myself for quarter of an hour,
listening to the murmur of the fire. When Madame Therese, whom I thought had been asleep,
said in a gentle voice:
"Is that you, Fritzel?"
"Yes, Madame Therese," answered I.
"Are you warming yourself?"
"Yes; Madame Therese."
"You were very cold, then?"
" Oh, yes."
"What have you been doing this afternoon?"
"Hans Aden and I've been setting traps for
the sparrows."
"Did you take many?"
"No, Madame Therese, not many."
"How many?"




188            MADAME THERESE.
It made made my heart bleed to tell this kind
woman that we had not taken any.
"Two   or three, didn't you, Fritzel?" asked
she.
"No, Madame Therese."
"Didn't you take any, then?"
c" No."
She was silent, and I thought she must feel
very sorry.
"They are very smart birds," she said in a moment.
"Oh, yes."
"Are your feet wet, Fritzel?"
"No, I had on my wooden shoes."
"Well, well, so much   the better.  Be comforted; another time you'll be more fortunate."
"While we were talking Lisbeth came in, leaving the kitchen door open.
"Ah, here you are," said she; "I'd like to
know where you spend your days? Always out,
always with your Hans Aden or your Frantz
Sepel."
"He's been catching sparrows," said Madame
Therese.
"Sparrows!   if I could only see them  once,"
cried the old servant. "Every winter for three




MADAME THLERESE.               189
years, he has run after sparrows. Once he
caught by chance in the autumn an old featherless jay, who had no strength left to fly, and
since then he thinks all the birds of heaven are
his."
Lisbeth laughed.  She sat down to the spinning-wheel, and said, as she dipped her finger into
the mouilloir.*
"Now everything's ready, and when the doctor comes I'll only have to lay the cloth:What was I telling you about a little while
ago?"
"You were speaking of your conscripts, M'lle Lisbeth."
"Ah, yes-when this wicked war began all the
young men of the village went away-big Ludwig, the blacksmith's son, little Christel, Hans
Gcerner, and many others-they went, some on
foot, some on horseback, singing, "Fatherland!
Fatherland!" with their comrades who took them
to Kirschtal, to Father Fritz's inn, on the road
to Kaiserslautern. They sang, indeed, but that
did not prevent them  from  crying bitterly when
they saw the steeple of Anstatt for the last time.
*Vessel of water, in which women wet their fingers when spin.
ning flax.




190          MADAME THEREESE.
Little Christel embraced Ludwig at every step,
saying,'When  shall we see Anstatt again?'
Ludwig answered:'Ah, alas! we mustn't think
of that; the good God     will protect us from'these Republicans, heaven confound them!' They
wept together, and the old sergeant, who had
come expressly for them, kept saying,'Forward!
Courage! We are men!' His nose was red from
drinking with our conscripts. Tall Hans Gcerner,
who was going to marry Rosa Mutz-the garde
chamnpetre's daughter-cried,'One  drink  more!
one drink more! This is perhaps the last plate
of sour-krout that we shall ever see!"'
"Poor boy!" said Madame Therese.
"Yes," answered Lisbeth, "and yet that would
be nothing if the girls could be married.  But
when the boys go away, the girls are left here,
to dream from morning till night, to wear themselves out and die off.  They can't marry the old
men,-sixty years old,-widowers, or else humpbacked, lame or one-eyed. Ah! Madame Therese,
I don't reproach you; but without your Revolution we would have been very happy, we would
only think of praising God for his goodness.
Such a Republic, which throws everything into disorder, is terrible!"




MADAME THERESE.               191
As I listened to this speech I noticed that a
pleasant odor of stuffed veal was filling the room,
and Scipio and I at last got up to take a look
in the kitchen. We found a good onion soup, a
breast of veal, stuffed, and fried potatoes. Running about had made me so hungry that it
seemed  as if I could swallow  the whole at a
mouthful.
Scipio was no less favorably inclined; with
his foot on the edge of the hearth he snuffed
among the pots, for a dog's nose, as M. de
Buffon says, is a very delicate second sight. After taking a good look, I prayed for my uncle's
return.
"Ah, Lisbeth," cried I, re-entering the sittingroom, "if you knew how hungry I am!"
"So much the better," replied the old woman,
who was still talking, "an appetite's a good thing."
Then she continued her village tattle, to which
Madame Therese seemed to listen with pleasure.
I went backwards and forwards, from the sitting-room to the kitchen, and Scipio followed me;
doubtless he felt the same as I did.   Outside,
the night was growing dark. Occasionally Madame Therese would interrupt the old servant,
raising her finger, and saying:




192          MADAME THERESE.
"Listen!"
Then we would all be quiet a moment.
"It's nothing," said Lisbeth; "Hans'Bockel's
cart is passing," or else, "it's mother Dreyfus,
who is going to watch at the Bremers'."
She knew the habits of everybody in Anstatt, and it gave her real happiness to talk to
the French lady about them, now that she had
seen the image of the Holy Virgin hanging from
her neck;-for the    sudden  friendship sprang
from that, as I learned afterwards.
Seven o'clock struck,-then the half hour. At
last, not knowing how to pass the time, while
waiting, I climbed on a chair, and took from a
shelf Buffon's Natural History,-a thing which I
had never done before. Then, with my elbows
on the table, in a kind of despair, I began to
read French   alone.  Only a ravenous appetite
could have given me such an idea; but every moment
I raised my head and listened, looking towards
the window with. eyes wide open. I had just
finished the account of the sparrow, which possesses twice as much brain as man in proportion to its size, when a sound was heard afar
off, the sound of little bells. It was still a hard
ly perceptible tinkling, lost in the distance, but




MADAME THERESE.                193
it approached rapidly, and soon Madame Therese
said:
"It is the doctor."
"Yes," said Lisbeth, rising and putting her
wheel in the corner by the clock;   "this time
it's he."
She ran into the kitchen. I was already in the
passage, leaving Buffon on the table, and I
opened the outer door, crying,
" Is it you, uncle?"
"Yes, Fritzel,"  replied  my uncle's cheerful
voice. "I have come. Is all well at home?"
"Very well, uncle, everybody's well."
"Good, good!"
Then Lisbeth went out with the lantern, and
I saw Uncle Jacob in the shed unharnessing the
horse. He was white, in the midst of the darkness, and every hair of his coat and fur cap
shone like a star in the light of the lantern.
He was in a hurry; Rappel, turning his head
toward the stable, seemed as if he could not
wait.
"Good Lord, how cold it is out here!" said
the old servant, running to help him. "You'll be
frozen, doctor. Go in, quick, and warm yourself.
I'll finish this by myself."




194          MADAME THItRESE.
But Uncle Jacob was not accustomed to leave
the care of his horse to others; and it was not
till he saw  Rappel before the rack filled with
hay, with his feet in the good straw, that he
said:
"Now we'll go in."
And we went in together.
"Good news, Madame Thereso! cried he in
the  doorway,   "Good   news! I've   come from
Kaiserslautern; it is all right down there."
Madame Therese, seated on her bed, looked at
him very pale. And as he shook his cap, and
took off his overcoat, she said:
"How, doctor, do you come from     Kaiserslautern?"
"Yes, I went as far as that-I wanted        to
know all the particulars. I've seen everythingI've  informed  myself of everything," said  he,
smiling, "but I won't conceal from    you,, Madame Therese, that I'm  dying of hunger and fatigue."
He was seated in the arm-chair, drawing off
his heavy boots, and watching Lisbeth lay the
cloth with eyes as sharp as Scipio's and mine.
"All I can tell you," said he, rising, "is that
the battle of Kaiserslautern is not so decisive




MADAME IHERESE.              195
as they thought, and your regiment was not
engaged. Little Jean has run no new dangers."
"That is enough," said Madame Therese, lying
back with an air of happiness and unspeakable
emotion, "that is enough. You need tell me no
more, lest I should be too happy. Warm yourself, doctor; eat-don't hurry. I can wait now."
Lisbeth brought in soup, and my uncle, sitting down, said again:
"Yes, that is positive.  You can be easy on
these two points.  I'll tell you the rest presently."
Then we began to eat, and my uncle, looking
at me now and then, smiled, as if to say:
"I believe you want to keep up with me.
What in the devil has given you such an appetite?"
Our great hunger was soon appeased. We remembered poor Scipio, who was watching us
stoically, and now it was his turn to eat. My
uncle took another good drink, then lighted his
pipe, and approaching the alcove took Madame
Therese's hand, as if to feel her pulse, and
said:
"Here I am!"
She smiled, and said nothing.




196          MADAME THER.SE.
Then he drew up the arm-chair, opened the
curtains, placed the candle on the night-table,
and began the history of the battle. I listened,
leaning on the back of his chair.  Lisbeth remained standing in the sitting room, in the
dark.
"The Republicans arrived before Kaiser~autern
on the evening of the 27th," said he; "the Prussians had been there for three days. They had
fortified the position, by placing cannon on the
heights that command the plateau. General Hoche
followed them from the line of the Erbach; he
had even wished to surround them at Bisingen,
and he immediately resolved to attack them the
next day. The Prussians had forty thousand men
and the French thirty thousand. The next day
the attack began on the left; the Republicans,
under General Ambert, began to scale the heights,
at a charge, crying,'Landau or death!' At
this moment, Hoche ought to have attacked the
centre. But it was covered by woods and heights.
It was impossible for him to arrive in time.
General Ambert was obliged to retreat before the
Prussian fire; he had all Brunswick's army against
him. The day following, November 29th, Hoche
attacked the centre; General Ambert was to




MADAME TH.IRffiSE.            197
turn the right wing, but he lost his way in the
mountains, so that Hoche was overpowered in his
turn. In spite of this the attack was to recommence the next day, November 30th. That day
Brunswick made a movement in advance, and the
Republicans, fearing their communications would
be cut off, retreated. This is what I know positively, and from the mouth of a Republican colonel, wounde4 in the hip, the second day of the
battle. Doctor Feuerbach, one of my old university friends, took me to this man. Otherwise, I
should have learned nothing reliable, for one can
get nothing but boasts out of the Prussians.
Everybody in the city is talking of these events,
but each in his own manner. Great excitement
prevails down there. Convoys of the wounded
are constantly leaving for Mayence; the City
Hospital is filled with patients, and the citizens
are forced to receive the wounded into their -houses
until they can be removed."
The attention with which Madame Therese listened to this recital may be imagined.
"I see-I see," said she, sadly, her head leaning on her hand. "Our troops were not concentrated enough."
"Truly they were not; that is what everybody




198          MADAME THERESE.
at Kaiserslautern says; but that doesn't prevent
one from recognizing the courage and even the
extraordinary boldness of your Republicans. When
they cried,'Landau or death!' in the midst of
the firing of guns, and the roaring of cannon,
all the city heard them; it was enough to make
one shudder. Now they are in retreat, but Brunswick has not dared to pursue them."
There was a moment's silence, t4en Madame
Therese asked:
"And how   do you know    that our regiment
was not engaged, doctor?"
"From the Republican colonel; he told me
that the first battalion of the second brigade had
met with great losses in a village in the mountain, some days before, while reconnoitring near
Landau, and that for that reason they were held
in reserve. Then I saw that he understood affairs
exactly."
"What is this colonel's name?"
"Pierre Ronsart; he's a tall dark man, with
black hair."
"I know him well-I know him well-he was
captain in our battalion last year; what! is that
poor Ronsart a prisoner? Is his wound dangerous?"
"No; Feuerbach told me he would recover,




MADAME THiRESE.               199
out it will take some time," answered my uncle.
Then smiling archly, his eyes half closed-"Yes,
yes-that's what the colonel told me. But he
told me many other things-interesting thingsextraordinary things, and which I should never
have suspected."
"What were they, doctor?"
"Something that astonished me very much,"
said Uncle Jacob, pressing the tobacco into his
pipe with the end of his finger, and drawing a
great puff, looking up at the ceiling-"very much
astonished me, and yet not so much-no, not so
much either, for such ideas had sometimes come
into my head."
"But what is it, Monsieur Jacob?" said Madame Therese, in surprise.
"He spoke of a certain Citoyenne Therese, a
sort of Cornelia, known in all the army of the
Moselle, and whom the soldiers call'The Cito.yenne!'
Ha! ha! ha! It seems that the citoyenne doesn't
lack a certain courage!" And turning to Lisbeth
and me, "Imagine that one day when the leader
of their battalion had just been killed in trying
to urge on his men, and when a bridge must be
crossed which was defended by a battery and
two Prussian regiments, and all the oldest Re



200            MADAMA     THLRESE.
publicans, the most terrible among those courageous men, recoiled-imagine this Citoyenne Therese
taking the flag, and marching all alone across the
bridge, telling her little brother Jean to beat the
charge before her, as before an army; which
produced such an effect upon the Republicans,
that they all rushed forward at once, and took
the cannons. Do you understand, all of you?
It was Colonel Ronsart who told me this."
And as we looked at Madame Therese quite
stupefied,-I, especially, my eyes wide open,-we
saw that she was turning very red.
"Ah," said my uncle, "we learn something new
every day; that was grand!-that was fine! Yes,
yes, although I am a lover of peace, that moved
me very much."
"But, doctor," replied Madame Therese, at last,
"how could you believe" —
"Oh," interrupted Uncle Jacob, extending his
hand, "it wasn't the colonel alone who told me
that; two other wounded captains who were there,
hearing that Citoyenne Therese was still living,
were greatly rejoiced. The story about her and the
flag is known to the lowest soldier. Say-yes or
no-did she do that?" said my uncle, frowning,
and looking in Madame Therese's face.




MADAME THIRESE.              201
Then she, drooping her head, began to weep,
and said:
"The commander who had just been killed, was
our father-we wanted to die, little Jean and I-we
were desperate."
As she thought of that, she sobbed. My uncle
became very grave, and said;
"Listen, Madame Therese: I am     proud  of
having saved the life of such a woman as you.
Whether it was because your father had died, or
for some other reason, that you acted thus, it
was truly grand, noble and courageous. It was
even extraordinary, for thousands of other women
would only have groaned. They would have become powerless, and done nothing but utter
reproaches. But you are a courageous woman,
and long after you have performed great actions,
you weep when others are beginning to forget.
You are not only the woman who lifted up the
banner from among the dead, but you are also
the woman who weeps, and this is why I esteem
you. And I say that the roof of this house- in
which my father and grandfather once lived, is
honored by your presence, yes, honored!"
My uncle spoke gravely, dwelling on the words
and placing his pipe on the table, for he was




202          MADAME THERESE.
greatly moved. And Madame Therese answered:
"Doctor, don't speak so, or I shall be obliged
to go away. I entreat you not to speak of that
again."
"I have told you what I think," replied Uncle
Jacob, rising, "and now  I will say no more
about it, since that is your wish, but that doesn't
prevent me from honoring, in you, a gentle and
noble creature, and being proud of having taken
care of you. And the colonel told me also who
your father and brothers were; simple, artless
men, who went together to defend what they
believed to be justice. When so many thousands
of proud men think only of their own interests,
and, I say it with regret, when they consider
themselves nobles, while thinking only of material
things, one likes to see that true nobility, that which
comes from disinterestedness and heroism, is found
among the people. Let them be Republicans or
not, what matters it? I think in my soul and
conscience, that the true nobles, in the sight of
the Lord, are those who do their duty."
My uncle in his excitement was walking up
and down the room, talking to himself. Madame
Therese, having dried her tears, looked at him
smilingly, and said:




MADAME THERESE.              208
"Doctor, you have brought us good news,thanks-thanks! Now I'm going to get better."
"Yes," replied Uncle Jacob, stopping, "you are
going to get better and better.  But it is time to
rest. We have had much fatigue, and I think we'll
all sleep well to-night. Come Fritzel, come Lisbeth, let us go!   Good night, Madame Therese.
"Good-night, doctor."
He took the candle, and, with head bent down
thoughtfully, followed us up-stairs.




XII.
THE next day was a day of happiness for
Uncle Jacob's house.  It was very late when I
awoke from my deep sleep; I had slept twelve hours
as if it were but a second, and the first things I saw
were my little round window-panes, covered with
those silver flowers, those transparent nets, and
thousand ornaments of frost-work, such as no
designer's hand could trace. It is nevertheless
but a simple thought of God's, which reminds us of
spring in the midst of winter; but it is also
the sign of great cold,-of the dry, sharp cold
which succeeds snow.   Then all the rivers, and
even the springs are frozen. The roads are
hard, and the pools covered with that white and
brittle ice which cracks under the feet like eggshells. Seeing this with my nose hardly out of




MADAME THERESE.               205
the coverlet, and my cotton cap drawn far down
over my ears, I recalled all the past winters,
and said to myself:
"Fritzel, you won't dare to get up; not
even to go to breakfast; you won't dare 1"
But a good odor of cream porridge came
up from the kitchen, and inspired me with
a terrible courage.  I had been lying there,
thinking, for half an hour, and had just resolved
beforehand that I would spring out of bed, take
my clothes under my arm, and run down to the
kitchen, to dress near the fire, when I heard
Uncle Jacob getting up, in his room, next to
mine, which led me to think that the great fatigue of the night before had made him as late a
sleeper as I. A few minutes afterward he came
into my room, laughing and shivering, in his
shirt-sleeves.
"Come, come, Fritzel," cried he, "get up,
get up! courage! Don't you     smell the porridge?"
He always did so in the winter when it was
very cold, and amused himself with seeing me
in a state of great uncertainty.
"If they could bring the soup here," said I,
"I'd smell it much better."




206            MADAME THPRESE.
"Oh, the coward, the coward! He would    t.t
the heart to eat in bedl What laziness!"
Then, to set me a good example, he poured
the cold water from my pitcher into the large
basin, and washed his face with both hands, saying:
"This does one good, Fritzel; it freshens you
up, and gives  you   ideas.  Come, get up!Come!"
But I, seeing that he wanted to wash me,
sprang from the bed, and with a single bound
seized my clothes, and rushed down stairs four
steps at a time. My uncle's shouts of laughter
filled the house.
"Ah! you'd make a famous Republican, you!"
cried he. "Little Jean would have to beat the
charge briskly to give you courage!"
But once in the kitchen, I could laugh at his
raillery. I was dressing near a good fire, and was
bathing with tepid water which Lisbeth poured
out for me.  That seemed to me much better than
having great courage, and I was beginning to
contemplate the soup-tureen with an affectionate
eye, when Uncle Jacob came down. He pinched
my ear, and said to Lisbeth:
"Well, well! how's Madame Therese this morning? she has had a good night, I hope?"




MADAME THER&SE.               207
"Go in, doctor," replied the old servant, in a
good-natured tone; "go in, sir, somebody wants to
speak to you."
My uncle entered, and I followed, and we were
at first very much surprised to see no one in
the sitting-room, and the curtains of the alcove
drawn. But our astonishment was very much
greater, when, turning round, we saw   Madame
Therese in her cantiniere's dress-the little jacket with brass buttons closed to the throat, and
the large red scarf around her neck,-seated behind the stove. She looked as we had first
seen her, only a little paler.  Her hat was on
the table, and her beautiful black hair, parted
in the middle, fell over her shoulders, making
her look like a young man.    She was smiling
at our astonishment, and kept her hand on the
head of Scipio, who was sitting near her.
"Good Lord!" cried my uncle. "How, is it
you, Madame Therese!   You've got up!"
Then he added, anxiously,
"What imprudence!"
But she, continuing to smile, held her hand out
to him gratefully, and looking at him expressively with her large black eyes, answered"Fear nothing, doctor; I'm   well, very well.




208          MADAME THERkSE.
Your good news of yesterday restored me to health
See, for yourself!"
He took her hand in silence, and felt hel
pulse thoughtfully. Then his brow cleared, and
he cried, in a joyous tone:
"No more fever! Ah now-now, all goes well!
But still you must be prudent-be prudent
still."
And drawing back he laughed like a child,
looking at his patient, who smiled, also.
"I see you again as I saw you first, Madame
Therese," he said slowly. "Ah! we've been very
fortunate, very fortunate!"
"'You've saved my life, Monsieur Jacob," said
she, her eyes filled with tears.
But he shook his head and raised his hand"No, no, it is He who preserves everything
and who animates everything-it is He alone who
has saved you; for He does not want all the
noble and beautiful natures to perish; he wants
some to remain as an example for others. Let us
thank Him!"
Then, with voice and countenance changing, he
added:
"Let us rejoice! Let us rejoice! This is what
I call a happy day!"








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MADAME THIRESSE.              209
He ran into the kitchen, and as he did not
return immediately, Madame Therese beckoned me
to her.  She took my head between her hands
and kissed me, putting aside my hair.
"You're  a  good  child, Fritzel," said she.
"You're like little Jean!"
I was very proud to resemble little Jean.
Then my uncle returned, his eyes twinkling,
with an expression of inward satisfaction.
"To-day," said he, "I shan't stir from  the
house.  It is necessary that a man should rest,
occasionally. I'm only going to make a little
tour of the village, that I may have a clear
conscience, and then I shall return and pass the
whole day with my family, as I used to do in
the good timea when grandmother Lehnel was
living.  It has well been said that it is women
who make the home."
He put on his large cap, and threw his coat
over his shoulder, and went out, smiling.
Madame Therese had become very thoughtful.
She rose, drew her chair to a window, and
looked out upon the square with the fountain,
gravely.  I went into the kitchen  to breakfast
with Scipio. In about half an hour I heard my
uncle come in, saying,




210          MADAME THEIRkSE.
"Well!   here I am, free until evening, Madame Therese. I've made my tour: everything's
in order, and I'm not obliged to go out again."
Scipio was scratching at the door; I opened
it, and we went into the sitting-room together.
My uncle had just hung his coat on the wall,
and was looking at Madame Therese, who was
still in the same place, seeming very melancholy.
"What are you thinking of, Madame Therese?"
asked he; "you appear to be sadder than you
were a little while ago."
"I'm  thinking, doctor, that in spit6 of the
greatest sufferings, it is pleasant to remain some
time longer in this world," said she, in an agitated voice.
"Some time?" cried Uncle Jacobs "Say, rather,
for many years; for, thanks to God, you have a
good constitution, and in a few days you will be
as strong as ever."
"Yes, Monsieur Jacob, yes; I believe it. But
when a good man, a kind-hearted man, has raised
you from among the dead, at the last moment,
it is a very great happiness to feel oneself recovered; to say to oneself,'But for him, I should
not now be living."'
My uncle then understood that she was con



MADAME THJRESE.               211
templating the scene of the terrible battle between
her battalion, and the Austrian division; that the
old fountain, the tottering  walls, the  gables,
the attic windows-in short, all the small dark
square-recalled the incidents of the struggle, and
that she knew the fate which awaited her, if he
had not fortunately arrived when Joseph Spick
was going to throw  her into the cart. For a
moment he was overwhelmed by this discovery.
Then he asked:
"Who told you these things, Madame Therese?"
"Yesterday, when you were away, Lisbeth told
me how much gratitude I owe you."
"Lisbeth told you that!" cried he, in despair;
"yet I had forbidden her."
"Don't reproach her, doctor," said she, "I encouraged her a little. She likes to talk so much!"
She smiled at my uncle, who calmed down
immediately, and said:
"Well, well, I ought to have foreseen that-let
us say no more about it. But listen to me,
Madame Therese: you must drive such thoughts
from your mind. You must try to look at things
cheerfully; it's necessary to the re-establishment
of your health. All will be well now, but we
must try to assist nature by pleasant thoughts,




212          MADAME THE1RESE.
according to the precepts of the father of medicine, the wise Hippocrates-' A strong soul' said
he,'saves a weak body!' The strength of the
soul comes from pleasant, not sad thoughts. I
wish this fountain was at the other end of the
village, but since it's here, and we can't take it away,
let us sit by the stove, so as not to see it any
more-that will be much better."
"I will gladly," said Madame Therese, rising.
She leaned on Uncle Jacob's arm; he seemed
very happy to support her. I rolled the armchair into its corner, and we took our places
around the fire, whose crackling gladdened us.
At times, in the distance, we heard a dog bark, and
this piercing sound, which extends so far through
the silent country in very cold weather, awoke
Scipio, who got up, and ran toward the door,
growling, with bristling moustache, then came
back, and stretched himself out near my chair,
thinking, no doubt, that a good fire was better
than the pleasure of making a noise. Madame
Therese, pale, with her long blue-black hair falling over her shoulders, seemed calm and happy.
We talked quietly, my uncle smoking his porcelain pipe, with an air of gravity, full of satisfaction.




MADAME THERESE.               213
"But tell me, Madame Therese," said he, in a
few moments, "I thought I cut your jacket, and
now it looks as good as new."
"Lisbeth and I mended it yesterday, Monsieur
Jacob."
"Ah! gobd, good!    Then you know how     to
sew? That idea hadn't occurred to me before.
I've always imagined you on a bridge, or somewhere near a river, under fire."
Madame Therese smiled.
"I'm the daughter of a poor schoolmaster,"
said she, "and the first thing one must do in
this world, when one is poor, is to learn how to
earn a living. My father knew this; all his
children were taught some trade. It is only a
year since we left, and not only our family, but
all the young men in the town and surrounding
villages, with guns, axes, pitchforks and scytheswhatever we had-to go and meet the Prussians.
Brunswick's proclamation had roused all the frontier. We learned to drill on the way. Then my
father, an educated man, was at once chosen captain, by popular vote, and later, after some encounters, he became commander of the battalion.
Until our departure, I had helped him with his
classes. I took charge of the young girls, and




214          MADAME THIRESE.
taught them all that good housekeepers ought
to know. Ah, Monsieur Jacob, if any one had
told me, then, that I should one day march
with soldiers, that I should lead my horse by
the bridle in the middle of the night, that I
should drive my cart over heaps of dead bodies, and often, during whole hours, see my way
only by the light of the firing, I would not
have believed it; for I cared only for simple
household  duties.  I was even very timid; a
look would make me blush in spite of myself.
But what can we not do when great duties
draw us from obscurity, when a country in danger calls her children! Then the heart bounds,
we are no longer the same, we march, fear is
forgotten, and long afterward, we are astonished
at being so changed, and having done so mamy
things that we would have thought quite impossible!"
"Yes, yes," said pny uncle, bending his head,
"now  I understand you-I see things clearly.
Ah, it was thus that they rose-it was thus
that men marched en masse! See what an idea
can do!"
We continued talking in this strain until nearly noon, when Lisbeth came to lay the table,




MADAME TIHRESE.               215
and serve dinner. We watched her going and
coming, spreading  the cloth  and  placing  the
dishes, and when she brought the smoking soup,
Uncle Jacob said, very gaily:
"Come, Madame Therese,"-rising, and helping
her to walk-" come to the table. You are now
our good grandmother Lehnel, the guardian of
the domestic hearth, as my old Professor Eberhardt, of Heidelberg, used to say."
She smiled, too, and when we were seated opposite each other, it seemed to us the natural order
of things, that all must have been so ordained
from olden times, and that until to-day one of our
family had been wanting, whose presence made
us happier. Even Lisbeth, bringing in the boiled
meat, vegetables and roast, stopped each time to
contemplate us with an air of profound satisfaction, and Scipio kept beside me as much as by
his mistress, making no difference between us.
My uncle helped Madame Therese, and as she was
still weak, cut her meat for her, saying:
"One more little piece! What you need now
is strength; eat that too, but then we will stop,
for everything ought to be done in moderation.'
When we had nearly finished, he went out for
a moment, and as I was wondering what he had




216            MADAME TItIREISE.
gone to do, he reappeared with an old bottle,
with a large red seal, covered with dust.
"There, Madame Therese," said he, placing it
on the table, "that is one of your fellow-countrymen, who comes to wish you good health. We
cannot refuse him that satisfaction, for he comes
from Burgundy, and, they say, has a gay disposition."
"Is this the way you treat your patients,
Monsieur Jacob?" asked Madame Therese, with
emotion.
"Yes, all —I order them   whatever will give
them pleasure."
"WTell, yours is true science-that which comes
from the heart, and cures."
My uncle was going to pour out the wine,
but stopping suddenly, he looked at the patient with an air of gravity, and said, expressively:
"I see that we agree better and better; and
you will finish by becoming converted to the
doctrine of peace."
Then he poured some drops into     my glass,
and filled his and Madame Therese's to the brim,
saying:
"To your health, Madame Therese!"




MADAME THERESE.               217
"To yours and Fritzel's!"
And we drank that old wine, the color of
onion-skin, which I thought very good. We became very gay. Madame Therese's cheeks took a
slight rose-tint, betokening the return of health.
She smiled, and said:
"This wine strengthens me." Then she began
to speak of rendering herself useful in the house.
"I am already very strong; I can work, I can
mend your old linen; you must have some,
Monsieur Jacob?"
"Oh, no doubt, no    doubt," said  my uncle,
smiling; "Lisbeth's eyes are not what they were
at twenty; she spends hours in darning one
hole. You'll be very useful to me, very useful.
But it isn't time for that yet. It's still necessary for you to rest."
"But," said she, looking at me sweetly, "if I
can't work, yet, you'll at least permit me to take
your place for Fritzel, sometimes. You haven't
time always to give him your good French lessons,
and if you will"
"Ah, that's different!" cried Uncle Jacob; "yes,
I call that an excellent idea, excellent. Listen,
Fritzel: in future you will take your lessons of
Madame Therese.    You must try to profit by




218          MADAME THtiRESE.
them, for good opportunities of instruction are
rare-very. rare 1"
I had become very red, for I was thinking
how much time Madame Therese had; but she,
guessing my thoughts, said, kindly:
"Don't fear, Fritzel. I'll give you plenty of
time for play. We'll read Buffon together, only
one hour in the morning, and one at night.
Don't be afraid, my child. I won't tire you too
much."
She drew   me gently to her, and kissed me.
Then the door opened, and the mole-catcher and
Koffel entered, gravely, dressed in their Sunday
clothes. They had come to take coffee with us.
It was easy to see that my uncle, on inviting
them, in the morning, had told them of the
courage and great fame of Madame Therese in
the armies of the Republic, for they were by no
means the same as usual. The mole-catcher no
longer kept his fur cap on, and Koffel had put
on a white shirt, the collar of which rose above
his ears; he held himself very straight, his hands
in his vest pockets, and his wife must have put
on a button to fasten the second suspender of his
breeches, for they no longer hung upon one side,
but were even on both: moreover, instead of his




MADAME THERESE.              219
old clogs full of holes, he wore his best shoes.
In short, both had the appearance of grave personages coming for some extraordinary conference, and both bowed very impressively, and
said:
" We salute the company!"
"Good, it's you!" said my uncle; "come, sit
down."  Then turning toward the kitchen    he
cried:
"Lisbeth, you may bring the coffee."
At that moment, glancing by chance at the
window, he saw old Adam Schmitt passing, and
rising immediately, tapped on the pane, saying:
"Here's an old soldier of Frederic, Madame
Therese; you will be happy to make his acquaintance. He is a good man."
Father Schmitt had come to see what Uncle
Jacob wanted, and Uncle Jacob, having opened
the window, said:
"Father Adam, will you give us the pleasure
of taking coffee with us? I always have that old
cognac, you know!"
"Willingly, doctor," replied Schmitt, "very willingly."
Then he appeared in the doorway, and making
the military salute, said:




220         B2IaME THERESE.
"Best respect',"
Then the molelcatcher, Koffel, and  Schmitt,
standing around the table in embarrassment, began to talk to each other in low tones, looking at Madame Therese, as if they had something
very important to communicate, while Lisbeth took
off the table cloth, and spread the oil cloth on,
and Madame Therese continued to smile upon me,
and pass her hand through my hair, without seeming to notice that they were talking about her.
At last, Lisbeth brought the cups and the little
decanters of cognac and kirschenwasser on a tray,
and this sight made old Schmitt turn round, his
eyes twinkling. Lisbeth brought the coffee-pot,
and my uncle said:
"Let us sit down."
Everybody sat down, and Madame Therese, smiling on all these honest men, said:
"Allow me to help you, gentlemen."
Immediately, Father Schmitt, again making the
salute, answered:
"Military honors to you!"
Koffel and the mole-catcher looked at him admiringly, and each thought: "That Father Schmitt
has just said a sensible and suitable thing."
Madame Therese filled the cups, and while they




MADAME TH.RESE.                221
drank in silence, my uncle, placing his hand on
Father Schmitt's shoulder, said:
"Madame Therese, I present to you an old soldier of Frederic the Great, a man who, notwithstanding his campaigns and his wounds, his courage and his good conduct, became only a simple
sergeant, but whom all the honest men in the village esteem as much as a captain."
Then Madame Therese looked at Father Schmitt,
who straightened himself up in his chair with a
feeling of natural dignity.
"In the armies of the Republic, monsieur might
have become a general," said she. "If France
now fights all Europe, it is because she will not
allow that honors, fortune, and all the good things
of the world, should crown the heads of a few,
despite their vices; and all the poverty and
humiliations the heads of others, notwithstanding
their merits and virtues. The nation finds this
contrary to the law of God, and to change it,
we will all die, if it be necessary!"
At first no one replied. Schmitt looked    at
this woman earnestly, his large gray eyes wide
open. His lips were compressed, and he seemed
to reflect. The mole-catcher and Koffel looked at
each other; Madame Therese seemed a little ex



222          MADAME THtLRPSE.
cited, and my uncle remained calm. I had left
the table, for Uncle Jacob did not allow me to
take coffee, thinking it injurious to children, and
was standing behind the stove, looking and listening.  In  a moment Uncle     Jacob  said to
Schmitt:
"Madame was cantiniere in the second battalion of the first brigade of the army of the Moselle."
"I know it already, doctor," answered the old
soldier; "and I also know what she did."
Then raising his voice, he cried:
"Yes, madame, if I had had the happiness of
serving in the armies of the Republic, I would
have become a captain-perhaps even a colonelor I would have died." Then placing his hand
on his breast —"I was ambitious; not to flatter
myself, I wasn't wanting in courage, and if I
could have risen I would have been ashamed to
remain in an inferior position. The king remarked
me on several occasions-a rare thing for a common soldier-and that was an honor. At Rosbach,
while the captain behind us cried, "Forward!" it
was really Adam Schmitt who commanded the company. Ah, well! all that amounted to nothing; and
now, although I receive a pension from  ile King




MADAME THiRESE.               223
of Prussia, I'm forced to say the Republicans
are right. That's my opinion."
Then he emptied his little glass quickly, and
winking in an odd manner, added:
"And they fight well, I saw that-yes-they
fight welL  They have not the regular movements
of old soldiers, yet, but they sustain a charge well,
and it is by that one knows strong men in the
ranks."
After these words of Father Schmitt's they all
began to praise the new ideas. One would have
thought that the signal for a general confidence
had just been given, and that each wished to reveal
thoughts which he had long kept secret. Koffel,
who was always complaining of not having received an education, said that all the children
ought to go to school at the country's expense;
that as God had not given more heart and mind
to the nobles than to other men, each one had
a right to the dew and the light of heaven;
thus the good grain would not be choked by
tares, nor the culture which would help more
useful plants be wasted upon thistles.
Madame Therese replied that the National
Convention had voted fifty-four million francs for
public education-regretting that they could not




224            MADAME THtRESSE.
do more-at the time when all Europe was in
arms against them, and they were obliged to sustain fourteen armies in the field.
Koffel's eyes filled with tears as he heard this,
and I shall never forget how he said in a trembling voice"Well, God bless them, God bless them! So
much the worse for us, but though I should lose
everything through them, it is for their success
that I will pray."
The mole-catcher remained silent a long time,
but when he once began, there was no stopping
him. Not only did he demand education for
the children, but he desired the utter overturning
of everything. One would not have supposed that
so peaceable a man could entertain such ideas.
"I say it's shameful to sell regiments like droves
of cattle!" cried he, earnestly, stretching out his
hand over the table, "I say it's still more shameful to sell the office of judge, for judges, to
get their money back, sell justice;-I say that the
Republicans have done well to abolish the convents, in which idleness and all the vices flourish;
and everybody ought to be free to go, to come,
to trade, to work, to advance in every walk of
life, without any one's opposing them. And, final



MADAME THRtRESE.               225
ly, I believe that if the drones won't go, nor
work, the good God wants the bees to get rid
of them, as we've always seen, and always shall
see, until the end of time."
Old Schmitt, then more at his ease, said his
ideas were the same as the mole-catcher's and
Koffel's; and my uncle, who until then had preserved his calmness, could not help approving
these sentiments, which are the truest, the most
natural, and most just.
"Only," said he, "instead of wanting to do
everything in a day, it's much better to work
slowly and progressively. We must employ gentle
and persuasive means, as Christ did. That would
be wiser, and the same results would be obtained."
Madame Therese smiled, and said:
"Ah, Monsieur Jacob, no doubt, if everybody
was like you. But for how many hundred years
has Christ preached kindness, justice, and gentleness to men? And yet, do your nobles listen?
Do they treat the peasants like brothers? No,
no! It is unfortunate, but war is necessary. In
the three years which have just passed, the Republic has done more for the rights of man than
was done in the eighteen hundred years before.




226          MAD2AMiE THERkESE.
Believe me, doctor, the resignation of good men
is a great evil; it emboldens the bad, and is
productive of no good."
All agreed with Madame Therese, and Uncle
Jacob was going to reply, when Clementz, the
carrier, with his large hat covered with oil-cloth,
and his red leather bag, opened the door, and
handed in the newspaper.
"Won't you take some coffee, Clementz?" said
my uncle.
"No, Monsieur Jacob, thank you, I'm in a
hurry; all the letters are late. Another time."
He went out, and we saw him run past the
window. My uncle opened the paper, and began
to read, gravely, the news of that far-off time.
Although very young then, I remember it well.
It seemed to verify the mole-catcher's predictions,
and inspired me with intense interest. The old
Zeitblatt treated the Republicans as a kind of
madmen who had conceived the audacious design
of changing the eternal laws of nature. It recalled, at first, the terrible manner in  which
Jupiter had overwhelmed the Titans who had
revolted against his throne; crushing them under
mountains, so that, since then, these unfortunates
vomit ashes and flame from the sepulchres of




MADAME THERESE.                227
Vesuvius and Etna. Then it spoke of the melting
of the bells stolen from the worship of our fathers
and transformed into cannon,-one of the greatest
profanations that could be conceived, since what
ought to give life to the soul was now destined
to kill the body. It said, also, that the assignats
were worth nothing, and that soon, when the nobles
should again take possession of their chateaux,
and the priests of their convents, those valueless
papers would be good for nothing but to kindle
the kitchen fires. It charitably warned people to
refuse them, no matter at what cost. After this
came the list of executions, and unhappily, it
was long; so the Zeitblatt declared that the Republicans had changed the proverb that "wolves
do not eat each other." It laughed at the new
era, styled Republican, whose months were called
vendemiaire, brumaire, frimaire, nivise, pluviOse, etc.
These madmen intended to change the courses of
the stars, and to pervert the seasons, it said;
put winter into summer, and spring into autumn,
so that one would no longer know when seedtime or harvest came; they had no       common
sense, and all the peasants of France were indignant with them.
So the Zeitblatt expressed itself.




228         IMADAME THtRESE.
Koffel and the mole-catcher glanced at each
other gravely, from time to time, during the
reading.  Madame Therese and Father Schmitt
seemed very thoughtful; no one said anything.
My uncle continued to read, stopping a second
at each new paragraph, and the old clock went
ticking on.
Toward the last, the questions of the war
of La Vendee came up, of the taking of Lyons,
the occupation of Toulon by the English and
Spanish, the invasion of Alsace by Wurmser, and
the battle-field of Kaiserslautern, from which these
famous Republicans had run like hares.    The
Zeitblatt predicted that the Republic would come
to an end the following spring, and closed by
these words of the prophet Jeremiah, which it
addressed to the French people:
"Thine own wickedness shall correct thee, and
thy backslidings shall reprove thee; know therefore and see that it is an evil thing and bitter,
that thou hast forsaken the Lord thy God."
Then my uncle folded the paper, and said,
"What is one to think of all that?    Every
day they announce to us that the Republic is
near its end; six months ago it was surrounded
on all sides, three quarters of its provinces had




MAIDAME THIERESE.             229
risen against it. La Vendee, and we, too, had
gained great victories. Well, now it has repulsed
us nearly everywhere, it stands against all Europe
as a great monarchy could not do; we are no longer
in the heart of its provinces, but only on its
frontiers; it advances even to our doors, and yet
they say it is going to perish!  If it were not
the learned doctor Zacharias who writes these
things, I should entertain great doubts of their
good faith."
"Ah, Monsieur Jacob," replied Madame Therese, "perhaps this doctor sees things as he wishes
them. That often happens, and does not prevent
people from being sincere.  They don't wish to
deceive, but they deceive themselves."
"As for me," said Father Schmitt, rising, "all
I know is that the Republicans fight well, and
if the French have three or four hundred thousand like those I've seen, I fear more for ourselves than for them. That's my opinion. As to
Jupiter, who puts men under Vesuvius to make
them vomit fire,-that's a new kind  of battery,
that I know nothing about, but I'd like very well
to see it."
"And I," said the mole-catcher, "think that
Doctor Zacharias doesn't know what he is talking




230          MADAIME TIHRESE.
about; if I edited the paper, I should do otherwise."
He stopped to take a coal from   the furnace,
for he felt great need of smoking. Old Schmitt
followed his example, and as night had come,
they went out together, Koffel last, pressing Uncle
Jacob's hand and bo.wing to Madame Therese.




XIII.
THE next day Madame Therese occupied herself with household duties. She visited the
presses, unfolded the table-clothes, towels, and
shirts, and even the old yellow linen which had
lain piled up there since grandmother Lehnel's
time.  She put aside what was worth repairing,
while Lisbeth placed the large tub full of ashes
in the wash-house. The water must boil till midnight to make lye for the great washing.  And
for several days there was still more workwashing, drying, ironing, and mending, and all
that.
Madame Therese had not her equal for needlework.   This woman, whom   people had thought
only fit to pour out glasses of brandy, and jog
along in a cart behind a crowd of sans-culoltes,
knew more about domestic matters than any gos



232          MADAME THERESE.
sip in Anstatt. She even showed us the art of
embroidering wreaths, and of marking the fine
linen with red letters, a thing of which we in
the mountains were entirely ignorant until then,
which proves what information is diffused by
great revolutions.  Moreover  Madame   Therese
helped Lisbeth in the kitchen, without interfering
with her, knowing that the old servants cannot
bear to have their arrangements disturbed.
"You see, Madame Therese," the old woman
sometimes said, "how people's notions change.
At first I couldn't endure you on   accOdnt of
your Republic, and now, if you were to go away,
I believe all the house would go, and that we
couldn't live without you."
"Oh," answered she, smiling, "every one has
his own ways. When you did not know me you
felt distrustful of me; anybody in your place
would have felt the same." Then she added,
sadly, "Nevertheless I must go, Lisbeth. My
place is not here. Other duties call me elsewhere."
She was always thinking of her battalion, and
when Lisbeth cried out:
"Pshaw, you must stay with us, you can't
leave us now. You know that they think a great
deal of you in the village; the people respect




MADAME THI.RESE.              233
you greatly.  Leave your sans-culottes.  It isn't
the life for an honest person to be struck by
balls and other bad weapons, following the soldiers. We won't let you go away."
She shook her head, and one could easily see that
some day she would say: I To-day, I am going!"
and that nothing could prevent her.
On the other hand the discussions on war and
peace continued. It was Uncle Jacob who recommenced them. Every morning he came down to
convert Madame    Therese, saying  that peace
ought to reign on earth, that in the beginning
peace had been established by God himself, not
only among men, but among animals; all religions teach the doctrine of peace; all sufferings
come from war, pestilence, murder, pillage, incendiarism; there must be a chief at the head
of governments to maintain order, and consequently nobles to support that chief; these things
had existed in all times; among the Hebrews,
the Egyptians, the Assyrians, the Greeks and
Romans; the republic of Rome had understood
this; the consuls and dictators were a kind of
kings supported by noble senators, who were
themselves supported by noble knights, who were
above the people.  Such was the natural order,




234            MADAME THERJESE.
and it could not be changed without detriment
even to the poorest, for, said he, the poor, in
disorder, no longer find means of gaining a living, and perish like leaves in autumn, when they
fall from the branches which give them sap. He
said many more things equally strong; but Madame Therese always found some good reply.
She declared that men have equal rights by
God's will; that rank ought to belong to merit,
and not to blood; wise laws, equal for all, establish only equitable differences among citizens,
approving the actions of some, and condemning
those of others; it is shameful and miserable to
grant honors and authority to those who do not
merit them; it is to degrade authority and honor itself, to cause them to be represented by unworthy persons, and to destroy in all hearts the
sentiment of justice by showing that justice
does not exist, since everything depends upon
the accident of birth; to establish such a state
of things men must be degraded, for intelligent
beings would not suffer it; such degradation is
contrary to God's laws; that we must contend in every way with those who would bring
it about for their own profit, and oppose them
by all means in our power, even by war,-the








4i~~~~~~~~~~~~~~i
Hewudinuths  os  ey hu  ful.,[Pg  3.




MADAM-E THERtiSE.             235
most terrible of all, it is true,-but the sin of
which falls upon the heads of those who provoke it by trying to establish an everlasting iniquity!
When my uncle heard these replies he would
become grave. If he had a journey to take
among the mountains, he would mount his horse
very thoughtfully, and all day he would seek
new and stronger reasons to convince Madame
Therese.  In the evening he would return more
cheerful, with proofs which he considered invincible, but his belief did not last long; for this
simple woman, instead of talking about the
Greeks and Egyptians, saw at once into the
depths of things, and destroyed my uncle's historical proofs by good sense. Yet, Uncle Jacob was
not angry; on the contrary; he exclaimed admiringly:
"What a woman you are, Madame Therese!
Without having studied logic, you have a reply
for everything. I'd like to see what kind of a
face the editor of the Zeitblatt would make arguing with you. I'm sure you'd embarrass him,
in spite of his great learning and even his good
cause; for ours is the good cause, only I defend
it poorly."




236          MIADAME T'HIR'ISE.
Then they would both laugh, and Madame The.
rese would say:
"You defend peace very well. I agree with
you; only let us rid ourselves of those who desire war, and in order to get rid of them, let
us wage it better than they. You and I will soon
be of one opinion, for we are earnest and desire
justice. But there are others who must be converted by cannon-shots, since that is the only
voice they will hear, and the only reasoning which
they understand."
My uncle would make no answer, and what
greatly astonished me was that he even seemed contented with having been beaten.  Next to these
great political discussions, that which gave him
the most pleasure was to find me, on returning
from his visits, taking my French lesson, Madame Therese sitting with her arm  around me,
and I standing, bending   over the book.    He
would come in softly, so as not to disturb us,
and sit behind the stove, stretching out his legs,
and listening in a sort of rapture.  Sometimes
he would wait half an hour before taking off
his boots and putting on his loose jacket, he
was so afraid of distracting my attention; and
when the lesson was finished, he would exclaim:




MADAME THERhSE.               237
"Very well, Fritzel, very well! You're acquiring a taste for that beautiful language that Madame Therese explains to   you so well.   How
fortunate for you to have such a teacher!
You'll realize that after a while."
Then he would kiss me, much moved.
What Madame Therese did for me he valued
more than if it had been for himself.
I must say, also, that that excellent woman did
not weary me for a single moment during our
lessons; if she saw my attention lag, she would
immediately tell me little stories which aroused
me; there was especially a certain Republican
Catechism, full of noble and touching incidents,
the remembrance of which will never be effaced
from my memory.
Several days passed thus. The mole-catcher
and Koffel came every evening as usual. Madame Therese had entirely recovered, and it
seemed as if this state of things would continue
forever, when an extraordinary occurrence came to
disturb our quiet, and to urge Uncle Jacob to
the most daring undertakings.




XIV.
ONE morning Uncle Jacob was gravely reading
the Republican Catechism  near the stove.  Madame Therese was sewing by the window, and
I was watching for a good opportunity of making my escape with Scipio. Outside our neighbor Spick was splitting wood.  No other sound
was heard in the village. My uncle's book
seemed to interest him very much. From time
to time he would look up, and say,
"These Republicans have good traits; they take
a large view of men-their principles elevate the
soul. It is really beautiful! I can understand how
the young adopt their doctrines, for all young people who are healthy in body and mind love virtue.
Those who become decrepit before they are old, from
selfishness and bad passions, are just the opposite. What a pity that such men constantly have
recourse to violence!"




MADAlME THERESE.               239
Then Madame Therese would      smile, and he
would resume his reading.    This continued for
about half an hour, and Lisbeth, after having
swept the entry, was going to have her share of
gossip at old Rcesel's as usual, when suddenly
a man on horseback stopped at our door. He
wore a large blue cloth cloak, a sheepskin cap,
and had a snub-nose and gray beard. My uncle
put down his book. We all looked at the stranger from the windows.
"Somebody has come after you for some sick
person, doctor," said Madame Therese.
My uncle   did  not answer.   The man, after
fastening his horse to the post, entered the house.
"Are you Doctor Jacob?" asked he, opening
the door.
"I am he, sir."
"Here is a letter from Doctor Feuerbach of
Kaiserslautern."
"Sit down, sir," said Uncle Jacob.
The man remained standing. My uncle became
very pale on reading the letter. For a moment
he seemed troubled, and looked at Madame Therese anxiously.
" I must take back your answer, if there be any,"
said the man.




240          MADAME THERkSE.
"Tell Feuerbach that I thank him,-that is the
only answer."
Then without adding anything he went out
bareheaded with the messenger, whom we saw go
down the street, leading his horse toward the
Inn of the Little Golden Pitcher. Doubtless he was
going to refresh himself before returning. We saw
my uncle pass the window to go into the shed.
Then Madame Therese seemed disturbed.
"Fritzel," said she, "go take your uncle his
cap."
I went out at once, and found him   walking
up and down with long strides before the barn.
He was still holding the letter, not thinking of
putting it in his pocket.  Spick was looking at
him strangely from his doorway, leaning on his
axe. Two or three of the neighbors, also, were
looking from  their windows.  It was very cold
out-of-doors, and I went in   again.  Madame
Therese had laid down her work and was sitting
pensively with her elbow on the window-sill.  I
sat down behind the stove, having no desire to
go out again. I remembered all these things
during my childhood; but what happened afterward,
for a long time seemed like a dream, for I
could not understand it. And it is only since I




MADAME THERESE.               241
have grown older, that, thinking it over, I have
understood it. I remember that my uncle came
in a few minutes afterward, saying that men
were scoundrels, creatures who sought only to
injure each other; that he sat down by the
little window not far from the door, and began
to read his friend Feuerbach's letter; while MIadame Therese stood listening to him  erect and
calm, in her little jacket with its double row of
buttons, her hair twisted at the back of her
head.
All this I see, and Scipio, too, in the middle
of the room, with upturned head and curled up
tail. But as the letter was written in Saxon
German, all that I could understand of it was
that Uncle Jacob had been denounced as a Jacobin, at whose house the rabble of the country
assembled to celebrate the Revolution,-that MIadame Therese was also denounced as a dangerous
woman, regretted by the Republicans on account
of her extraordinary courage, and that a Prussian
officer, accompanied by a sufficient escort, was
coming for her the nest day, and would send her
to Mayence with the other prisoners. I remember that Feuerbach advised my uncle to be
very prudent, because the Prussians, since their




242          MADAME THERESE.
victory at Kaiserslautern, were masters of the
country, and they were arresting all dangerous
men and sending them to Poland, two hundred
leagues from there, into the marshes, as an example to others.
What seemed most astonishing to me was the
manner in which Uncle Jacob, the calm     man,
the great lover of peace, became indignant at his
old comrade's advice. Our little sitting-room, usually so peaceful, was that day the scene of a
terrible storm, and I doubt whether it had ever
seen the like, since the house was built.   My
uncle accused Feuerbach of being a self-seeker,
ready to bow to the arrogance of the Prussians,
who treated the Palatinate and the Hundsruck
like a conquered country. He declared that laws
existed in Mayence, in Treves, and Spire, as
well as in France; Madame Therese had been
left for dead by the Austrians; they had no
right to reclaim persons and things which they
had abandoned; she was free; he would suffer
no  one to lay his hand on her;      he would
protest against it; the lawyer Pfeffel of Heidelberg was his friend; he would write, he would
defend himself; he would move heaven and earth;
they should see if Jacob Wagner would allow




MADAME THERESE.              243
himself to be treated in that manner; they would
be astonished at what a peaceable man was capable
of doing for right and justice.
As he talked he walked up and down with disordered hair; he quoted at random in Latin all
the old laws that he could recall. He also spoke
of certain sentences on the rights of man which
he had just read, and from time to time he
stopped, bent his knee, put his foot down with
force, and cried:
"I stand on the basis of law-on the brazen
foundations of our ancient charters. Let the
Prussians come-let them come! This woman is
mine-I rescued her and saved her life. The thing
abandoned,'res derelicta est res publica, res vulgata.'"
I do not know where he had learned all this;
perhaps at the University of Heidelberg, hearing
his companions argue among themselves. But at
that time all these old studies passed through his
mind and he seemed to be replying to a dozen
persons who were attacking him at once.
Madame Therese remained calm, her long, thin
face very thoughtful No doubt my uncle's quotations astonished her, but seeing things clearly, as
usual, she understood her true position.  It was
only at the end of a long half-hour, when my




244          MADAME THIREJSE.
uncle opened his secretary and seated himself to
write to the lawyer Pfeffel, that she placed her
hand gently on his shoulder, and said with emotion:
"Don't write, Monsieur Jacob, it is useless.
Before your letter arrives I shall be far away."
My uncle looked at her, turning very pale.
"You want to go away, then?"   he asked with
trembling lips.
"I am a prisoner," said she, "I know that; my
only hope was that the Republicans, returning to
the attack, would deliver me as they marched
upon Landau; but since it is otherwise, I must
go."
"You want to go away!" repeated he, despairingly.
"Yes, doctor, I want to go, to spare you great
annoyance; you are too good, too generous to
understand the strict laws of war; you see only
justice! But in time of war, justice is nothing,
force is everything. The Prussians are conquerors,
they will come and take me away because those are
their orders. Soldiers know only their orders;
law, life, honor, man's reason, are nothing; their
orders are above all."
My uncle sank back in his arm-chair, his large




MADAME THRIESE.               245
eyes filled with tears, not knowing what to reply;
but he took Madame Therese's hand, and pressed
it with great emotion, then rising with agitated
face, he began to walk up and down, again invoking the execration of future ages upon the
oppressors of mankind, cursing Richter and all
scoundrels like him, and declaring in a voice of
thunder that the Republicans were right in defending themselves; their cause was just; he saw it
now; and all the old laws, the old rubbish of
ordinances, rules and charters of all sorts had
never benefited any but the nobles and monks,
to the injury of the poor. His face was swollen,
he staggered, he could no longer speak plainly,
but stammered. He said that everything ought
to be wholly abolished; courage and virtue only
ought to triumph, and finally, in an extraordinary
kind of enthusiasm, his arm extended toward
Madame Therese, and his face red even to his
neck, he proposed to take her in his sleigh to
the mountain, to the house of a woodcutter-one
of his friends-where she would be safe. He
seized her hands, and said:
"Let us go-let us go there-you will be well
cared for in old Ganglof's house. He is entirely
devoted to me-I saved his life, and his son's —




246          MADAME THERESE.
they will conceal you-the Prussians will not go
look for you in the passes of the Lauterfelz 1"
But Madame Therese refused, saying that if
the Prussians should not find her at Anstatt,
they would arrest him in her place; and she
would rather risk perishing of fatigue and cold
on the highway, than expose to such a misfortune, a man who had rescued her from among
the dead. She said this very firmly, but my uncle
would give no weight to such reasons. I remember that what troubled him most was the thought
of seeing Madame Therese going away with barbarous men, savages from the depths of Pomerania; he could not endure this idea, and cried:
"You are weak-you are still an invalid! These
Prussians respect nothing-they are a race full of
boasting and brutality. You don't know how they
treat their prisoners. I have seen it myself-it is a
disgrace to my country-I would have concealed
this, but I must acknowledge it now, it is frightfdl!"
"No doubt, Monsieur Jacob," replied she; "I
know that from the old prisoners of our battalion.
We shall march two by two, or four by four,
sad, sometimes without bread, often hurried and
brutally treated by the escort. But your peasants




MADAME THERkSE.              247
are good-they are honest men-they have pity
-and the French are gay, doctor,-the journey
will be the only hardship; and moreover I shall find
ten, twenty of my comrades to carry my little bundle;
the French respect women. I see it beforehand,'
said she, smiling sadly: "one of us will march
before, singing an old air of Auvergne to mark
the step, or else a more joyous Provengal song,
to brighten your dark skies. We shall not be so
unhappy as you think, Monsieur Jacob."
She spoke gently, her voice trembling a little, and
as she was speaking I could see her with her little
bundle in the file of prisoners, and my heart sank.
Oh, then I knew how much we loved her, how it
would pain us to see her go away. Suddenly I
burst into tears, and my uncle sitting opposite the
secretary, his face in his hands, remained silent,
but great tears flowed slowly down his cheeks.
Madame Therese, seeing this, could not help weeping. She -took me tenderly in her arms, and
kissed me warmly, saying:
"Don't cry, Fritzel; don't cry so. You'll think
of me sometimes-won't you? I shall never forget you."
Scipio alone remained calm, walking around the
stove, and understanding nothing of our trouble.




248            MADAME THERESE.
It was not until nearly ten o'clock, when we heard
Lisbeth lighting the kitchen fire, that we became
somewhat calm.
Then my uncle, blowing his nose forcibly, said:
"Madame Therese, you must go, since you
really wish to, but it is impossible for me to allow
the Prussians to come here and take you away
like a thief, and lead you through the whole
village. If one of those brutes should speak a
cruel or insolent word to you, I should forget
myself, for my patience would be at an end; I
feel it, I should be capable of proceeding to
great extremities.  Let me take you to Kaiserslautern myself, before those people come. We will
leave early in the morning, between four and five
o'clock, in my sleigh; we will take the by-roads,
and will get down there by noon at the latest.
Do you consent?"
"Oh, Monsieur Jacob, how could I refuse this
last proof of your affection?" said she, much
moved. "I accept it with gratitude."
"We will do so, then," said he gravely. "And
now let us dry our tears, and drive away these
bitter thoughts as much as possible, so as not
to sadden the last moments that we shall spend
together."




MADAME THtRASE.                249
He kissed me, putting back the hair from my
forehead, and said:
"Fritzel, you're a good child; you have an
excellent heart. Remember that your Uncle Jacob
has been satisfied with you this day. It is good
to say to ourselves that we have given satisfaction
to those who love us!"




XV.
FROM that moment quiet returned to our house
Every one thought of Madame Therese's depart'
ure, of the great void that would be left in our
home, of the sadness which would for weeks and
months succeed the pleasant evenings that we
had passed together, of the sorrow of the molecatcher, Koffel, and old Schmitt, on learning the
bad news; the more we thought of it, the more
causes for grief and loneliness we discovered. What
seemed to me the most bitter, was parting from
my friend Scipio. I dared not say it, but when
I considered that he was going away, that I
could no longer walk with him in the village, in
the midst of universal admiration, nor have the
happiness of making him drill-that I should be
as I was before he came, walking alone, my hands
in my pockets, and my cotton cap drawn over




MADAME THiRESE.               251
my ears, without honor, and without glory,-such
a disaster seemed to me the height of misery.
And what caused the bitter cup to overflow, was
that Scipio had just placed himself before me,
looking at me from under his frowsy eyebrows,
as sorrowfully as if -he understood that we were
going to be separated forever. Oh, when I think
of these things even now, I am surprised that
my thick, fair curls did not turn quite gray, in
the midst of such distracting thoughts. I could
not even cry, my sorrow was so great. I remained
with head upturned, my lips trembling, and my
hands clasped around one knee.
My uncle was walking up and down with long
strides, and occasionally he coughed a little, and
then quickened his steps.
Madame Therese, always active, despite her sadness, and her red eyes, had opened the chest
of old linen, and was cutting from thick cloth
a kind of bag with    double straps, in which
to put her things for the journey.  We could
hear the crunching of her scissors on the table. She
arranged the pieces with her usual skill. At last,
when all was ready, she drew from  her pocket
a needle and thread, sat down, put on her thimble, and after that we could see her hand coming




252            MADAME THRPR.SE.
and going like lightning. This was all done in
the greatest silence. We heard only my uncle's
heavy step on the floor, and the measured ticking of our old clock, which neither our joys nor
our sorrows could hasten or delay one second.
Thus goes life;-time as it passes does not ask,
"Are you sad? Are you gay? Do you weep?
Do you laugh? Is it spring, autumn, or winter?"
It goes on, goes on, always; and those millions
of atoms that whirl about in a ray of sunlight,
and whose life begins and ends from one "tictac" to another, are of as much account to it, as
the existence of an old man of a hundred years.
Alas! we are but trifles.
Lisbeth having come in toward noon to lay the
cloth, my uncle stopped his walk, and said:
"You must cook a little ham for to-morrow
morning. Madame Therese is going away."
And as the old woman looked at him in amaze.
ment"The Prussians claim her as their prisoner,"
said he, in a hoarse voice; "they have force on
their side; they must be obeyed."
Then Lisbeth put her plates on the table, and
looking from one to the other, settled her cap
as if this news had disarranged it, and said:




MADAME THERESE.                253
"Madame Therese going away?-that isn't possible-I'll never believe that!"
"It's necessary, my poor Lisbeth," replied Madame Therese, sadly; "it's necessary; I'm a prisoner-they are coming to look for me."
"The Prussians?"
"Yes, the Prussians."
Then the old woman, choking with anger, said:
"I always thought the Prussians were no great
things-a heap of scoundrels-real ruffians! Coming to attack an honest woman! If men had two
farthings' worth of heart, would they suffer it?"
"And what would you do?" asked Uncle Jacob, his face lighting up, for the old servant's indignation secretly pleased him.
"'I? I'd load my cavalry pistol," cried Lisbeth,
"and call to them  through the window,'Leave,
ruffians! don't come in here, or beware!' And
the first one who should pass through the door,
I'd stretch out, stiff. Oh, the wretches!"
"Yes, yes," said my uncle, "that's the treatment
such men ought to receive. But we're not the
strongest."
Then he resumed his walk, and Lisbeth, trembling all over, arranged the dishes.  We ate our
dinner very silently.  When we had finished, my




254          1MADAME THERESE.
uncle went to get a bottle of old Burgundy from the
cellar, and came back, saying sadly,
"Let us rejoice our hearts a little, and fortify
ourselves against these great sorrows which overwhelm us.   Before your departure let this old
wine which has strengthened you, Madame Therese, and gladdened us all with a day of happiness,
sparkle again in our midst like a ray of sunlight,
and scatter for a few moments the clouds that surround us."
As he said this, in a firm voice, we for the first
time recovered our courage a little.  But when, a
few minutes after, he told Lisbeth to get a glass
to drink with Madame Therese, and the poor old
woman burst into tears, with her face in her apron,
our firmness vanished, and we all cried together in
great distress.
"Yes, yes," said Uncle Jacob, "we have been
very happy together-such is the life of man-joyful moments pass quickly, and sorrow  lasts long.
He who looks down upon us from above knows,
nevertheless, that we do not deserve to suffer thus;
that wicked men have made us miserable; but He
knows, also, that power, true power is in His hand,
and that He can make us happy whenever He
wishes. This is why He permits these iniquities -




MADAME THERESE.              255
He will reward us.   Then let us be calm and
trust in Him. To the health of Madame Therese!"
And we all drank, the tears running down our
cheeks. Lisbeth, hearing the power of God mentioned, was somewhat quieted, for she was pious,
and thought that things ought to be as they are,
for the greatest good of all in the life eternal, but
she did not the less continue to curse the Prussians,
and all who were like them, from  the bottom of
her soul.
After dinner my uncle charged her particularly not to tell of what was going to happen
in the village, for if she did, Richter, and all the
bad men in Anstatt, would be there the next day
to see Madame Therese depart, and to rejoice in
our humiliation. She understood him very well,
and promised to be discreet. Then my uncle went
to see the mole-catcher. All that afternoon I did
not leave the house.  Madame' Therese continued
her preparations for departure.  Lisbeth helped
her, and wanted to crowd into her bag a quantity of useless things, saying that all would be
needed on the way-one is glad to find what one
has put in a corner; that having gone to Pirmasens one day she missed her comb and braided
ribbons very much.




256          MADAME TH'ERESE
Madame Therese smiled.
"No, Lisbeth," said she, "remember that I'm
not going to travel in a carriage, and that I
have to carry everything on my back. Three
good chemises, three handkerchiefs, two pairs of
shoes, and a few pairs of stockings are enough.
At every halting-place we stop an hour or two
at the spring, and do our washing. You don't
know what a soldier's washing is? How many
times I have done it! We French like to be
neat, and we are so, with our little bundle."
She seemed cheerful, and it was only when
she occasionally addressed some friendly words
to Scipio that her voice became very sad. I did
not know why, but I knew later, when Uncle
Jacob  returned.  The day wore on.     At four
o'clock night began to fall. All was now ready;
the  bag  containing  Madame   Therese's things
hung on the wall.   She sat down by the stove,
taking me on her lap in silence. Lisbeth went
into the kitchen to prepare supper, and after
that not a word was spoken. The poor woman
was doubtless thinking of the future which
awaited her on her way to Mayence, in the
midst of her companions in misfortune. She said
nothing, and I felt her sweet breath on my cheek.




MADAME THRhRESE.              257
Half an hour afterward, when it was quite
dark, my uncle opened the door, and asked:
"Are you there, Madame Therese?"
^Yes, doctor."
"Good, good! I've been to see my patients —
I've told Koffel, the mole-catcher, and old Schmitt.
All's right-they'll be here this evening to receive your adieux."
His voice was firm. He went into the kitchen
to get a light, and returning, seemed much
pleased to see us together.
"Fritzel behaves well," said he.  "Now he is
going to lose your good lessons; but I hope he
will practise reading French alone, and remember always that a man is worthy only in proportion to his knowledge. I rely upon that."
Then Madame Therese made him examine her
little bag in detail.  She smiled, and my uncle
said:
"What happy dispositions the French have
In the midst of the greatest misfortunes they
preserve a store of natural gayety; their sorrow
never lasts many days. That is what I call a gift
from God, the finest, the most desirable of all."
But on that day,-the remembrance of which
will never be effaced from my memory, because it




258            MADAME THIRESE.
was the first time I had witnessed the unhappiness of those I loved,-in all that day, what touched
me most, was this:-a little while after supper,
Madame Therese, sitting quietly behind the stove,
Scipio's head on her knees, looking dreamily before her, said suddenly:
"Doctor, I owe you much-and yet I must ask
one more favor of you."
"What is it, Madame Therese?"
"It is that you will take care of my poor
Scipio-take care of him, in remembrance of
me. Let him be Fritzel's companion, as he has
been mine, that he may not have to endure the
new trials of a prisoner's life."
When she said that, I felt my heart swell, and
I trembled all over with delight and tenderness. I was sitting on my little low chair before the fire. I drew my Scipio to me, and
plunged my two coarse red hands into his thick
hair; a flood of tears rushed down my face. It
seemed to me that I had lost all the blessings of
heaven and earth, and they had just been restored
to me.
My uncle looked at me in surprise. He must
have understood what I had suffered at the
thought of being separated from Scipio, for in



MADAiME TIHERESE.             259
stead of speaking to Madame Therese of the
sacrifice which she was making, he said, simply:
"I accept, Madame Therese, I accept for Fritzel, that he may remember how much you
loved him; that he may always recollect that in
your greatest sorrow you left him, as a mark of
your affection, a good faithful creature,-not only
your own companion, but little Jean's, your
brother's, also. Let him never forget it, and love
you too."
Then turning to me:
"Fritzel, don't you thank Madame Therese?"
I got up, and not being able to say a word,
from sobbing, threw myself into that excellent
woman's arms, where I remained, my arm      on
her shoulder, looking through great tears at
Scipio, who was at our feet, and touching him
with my finger-ends, with an unspeakable joy.
It was some time before I could be quieted.
Madame Therese kissed me, saying:
"This child has a good heart.    He becomes
attached to one easily-that is good!" which
increased my tears. She smoothed the hair from
my forehead, and seemed moved.
After supper, Koffel, the mole-catcher, and old
Schmitt came in, their caps under their arms.




260           MADAME THERESE.
They expressed to Madame Therese their grief at
parting from her, and their indignation against
that scoundrel, Richter, to whom everybody attributed the denunciation, for he alone was capable of such an act. They sat around the
stove.  Madame Therese was touched with the
sorrow of these honest people, but nevertheless
her firmness and decision did not desert her.
"Listen, my friends," said she: "if the world
were strewn with roses, and if we found everywhere only noble men to celebrate justice and
right, what merit would there be in advocating
these principles? Really, it would not be worth
the trouble of living. We happen to live in
times in which great things are done, when liberty is fought for. We shall at least be remembered, and our existence will not have been
useless; all our poverty, all our sufferings, all
the blood which we have shed will form a sublime spectacle for future generations; wicked men
will quake when they think that they might
have encountered and been swept away by us,
and all great souls will regret not having been
alive to share our labors. These are the teachings of events.  Do not pity me then.    I am
proud and happy to suffer for France, who rep



MADAME THBERSE.               261
resents liberty, right, and justice, in the world.
You believe us beaten?  That is a mistake. We
retreated one step yesterday; we will take
twenty steps forward to-morrow. And if France
one day is so unfortunate as no longer to represent the great cause that we defend, other
people will take our places, and carry on our
work, for justice and freedom  are immortal, and
all the despots in the world will never succeed
in destroying them.  As for me, I may go to
Mayence, and perhaps to Prussia, escorted by
Brunswick's soldiers; but remember what I say
to you: the Republicans have made only their
first day's march, and I am sure that before the
close of next year they will come to deliver me."
Thus spoke this proud woman, smiling, with
flashing eyes. We could easily see that suffering
was nothing to her, and each one thought, "If
these.are the Republican women, what must the
men be?"
Koffel grew pale with pleasure, as he listened
to her. The mole-catcher winked at my uncle, and
said, very low:
"I've known all that a long time; it's written in my book. These things must happen-it's
written 1"




262          MADAME THERESE.
Old Schmitt, having asked permission to light
his pipe, blew great puffs, one after another,
and murmured between his teeth:
"How unfortunate that I'm   not twenty years
old!  I would join those people!   That's what
I'd do. What could prevent me from becoming
a general, like any other man?   How   unfortunate!"
At nine o'clock my uncle said;
"It's late. We must leave before day. I think
we had better take a little rest."
And everybody rose with emotion. They kissed
like old friends, promising never to forget each
other. Koffel and Schmitt went out first; the
mole-catcher and my uncle stopped a moment in
the doorway, talking in low  tones.  The moonlight was superb, the earth was all white, the
sky of a dark-blue, crowded with stars. Madame
Therese, Scipio, and I went out together to see
this magnificent sight, which makes one feel the
littleness  and  vanity  of human  beings, and
overwhelms the mind with its illimitable grandeur.
Then the mole-catcher went away, pressing my
uncle's hand again.  We saw him as if it were
broad daylight, walking down the deserted street.
At last he disappeared at the corner of Orties




MADAME THLRESE.               263
Lane, and as it was very cold, we all went in
to say good-night.
My uncle kissed me at the door of my chamber, and said in a strange voice, pressing me to his
heart"Fritzel-work-work-and     behave well, dear
child!"
He went into his room, much agitated.
For my part, I could only think of the happiness
of taking care of Scipio. Once in my room, I
put him on the bed, at my feet, between the
warm  feather bed and the bedstead.    He lay
quiet, with his head between his paws. I could
feel his sides dilate gently at every breath, and
I would not have changed places with the Emperor of Germany. I could not sleep until after
ten o'clock, for thinking of my happiness.  My
uncle was moving about in his room. I heard
him  open his secretary and afterward make a fire
in his chamber stove for the first time that
winter, and I thought he intended to sit up. At
last I slept soundly.




xy V1.
THE church-clock  was striking nine when I
was awakened by a clattering of hoofs before
our house; horses were stamping on the hard
ground, and I heard people talking at our door.
It immediately occurred to me that the Prussians
had come to take Madame Therese, and I hoped
with all my heart that Uncle Jacob had not
slept as long as I had. Two minutes afterward
I went down stairs, and found at the entrance
five or six hussars wrapped in their cloaks,
great scabbards hanging below their stirrups, and
swords in their hands.    The officer, a small,
thin, fair man, with hollow cheeks, prominent
cheek-bones, and thick reddish moustaches, was
seated on a great black horse, and Lisbeth, broom
in hand, was replying to his questions with a
frightened air. Farther off, was a group of peo



MADAME THERESE.               265
pie, open-mouthed, pressing eagerly forward to listen. Among the foremost, I noticed the molecatcher, his hands in his pockets, and M. Richter,
who was smiling, half-closing his eyes, and showing
his teeth like a happy old fox.  He had come,
no doubt, to enjoy my uncle's confusion.
"So your master and the prisoner went away
together this morning?" said the officer.
"Yes, monsieur le commandant," answered Lisbeth.
"At what hour?"
"Between five and six, monsieur le commandant;
it was still dark. I fastened the lantern to the
pole of the sleigh."
"You had heard we were coming, then?" said
the officer, giving her a piercing glance.
Lisbeth looked at the mole-catcher, who came
out from the circle, and answered. for her, without hesitation:
"I beg your pardon, sir, I saw Dr. Jacob last
evening-he's one of my friends. This poor woman knows nothing about it. The doctor has
been tired of the Frenchwoman for a long time,
he wanted to get rid of her, and when he saw
that she could bear the journey he profited by
the first moment."




266          MADAME THLRESE.
"But why did we not meet them on the way?'
cried the Prussian, scanning the mole-catcher from
head to foot.
"You must have taken the valley road; the
doctor went, perhaps, by the way of Waldeck and
the mountain. There's more than one road to
Kaiserslautern."
The officer, without replying, sprang from his
horse, entered our room, pushed open the kitchen door, and pretended to look round; then he
came out and said, as he mounted his horse"Come, our.work is done; the rest doesn't concern us."
He rode toward the Little Gold Pitcher; his men
followed, and the crowd dispersed, talking over
these wonderful occurrences. Richter seemed confused and angry, and Spick looked at us askance.
They went up the steps of the inn together, and
Scipio, who was on our steps, ran out, barking
at them with all his might.
The hussars refreshed themselves at the Little
Gold Pitcher, then we saw them pass our house
again on the road to Kaiserslautern, and after
that we heard no more of them.
Lisbeth and I thought my uncle would return
at night, but when that day passed, and the




MADAME TIHRESE.                267
next, and the next, without our even receiving a
letter, our anxiety may be imagined. Scipio went
up and down the house, and thrust his nose, from
morning till evening, in at the bottom of the
door, calling Madame Therese, snuffing, and crying in a lamentable way. His sorrow infected
us. A thousand thoughts of misfortune came into
our minds.   The mole-catcher came to see us
every evening, and said:
"There's nothing to be frightened about. The
doctor wanted to protect Madame Therese; he
couldn't let her go with the prisoners, that would
be contrary to good sense; he has asked an
audience of Field Marshal Brunswick to try to
induce him to allow her to enter the hospital
of Kaiserslautern. All these steps take time,-be
calm; he'll come back."
These words would reassure us a little, for the
mole-catcher seemed very calm. He smoked his
pipe by the stove, with outstretched legs, and
dreamy face.
Unfortunately the forest-guard, Rcedig, who
lived in the wood on the road from Pirmasens,
where the French then were, had just brought a
report to the mayoralty of Anstatt, and having
stopped a few minutes at Spick's inn, he said




268          MADAME THERESE.
Uncle Jacob had passed his house three days before,
about eight o'clock in the morning, and he and
Madame Therese had even stopped a moment to
warm themselves and drink a glass of wine. He
said my uncle seemed in very good spirits, and had
two long cavalry pistols in his overcoat pockets.
Then the report spread that Uncle Jacob, instead of going to Kaiserslautern, had conducted
the prisoner to the Republicans, and that caused
great scandal. Richter and Spick declared, everywhere, that he deserved to be shot; that it was
an abomination, and his property must be confiscated. The mole-catcher and Koffel answered that
the doctor had no doubt lost his way on account of the great snow; that he had taken the
mountain road to the left instead of turning to
the right; but everybody knew very well that
Uncle Jacob was more familiar with the country
than any smuggler, and the indignation increased
daily. I could no longer go out without hearing
my companions say that Uncle Jacob was a Jacobin; and I had to fight in his defence, and
despite Scipio's assistance, I came home more
than once with a bloody nose.
Lisbeth was in despair, especially at the threats
of confiscation.




MADAMIE THJERESE.             269
"What a misfortune!" said she, clasping her
hands; "what a misfortune to be forced, at my
age, to take my bundle     and  leave  a house
where half of my life has been passed!"
It was very sad. The mole-catcher alone preserved his tranquillity.
"You are crazy to fret so," said he; "I tell
you Dr. Jacob is well, and that they will confiscate nothing.  Keep yourself quiet, eat well,
sleep well, and I'll answer for the rest."
He winked mischievously, and always ended by
saying:
"My book relates these things. Now they are
being accomplished, and all will be well."
Notwithstanding these assurances things went
from bad to worse, and the rabble of the village, excited by the scoundrel Richter, were beginning to shout under our windows, when one
fine morning, order was suddenly restored. Towaids evening the mole-catcher arrived, with a
very joyous face, and took his usual place, saying to Lisbeth, who was spinning:
"Well, they don't shout any more, they no
longer wish to confiscate; they keep very quiet,
ha! ha! ha!"
He said no more, but in the night we heard




270          MADAME'THeIRE'SE.
many carriages passing, and men marching in
crowds through the main street. It was worse
than the arrival of the Republicans, for no one.
stopped-they went on and on always! I could
not sleep, for Scipio growled every minute. At
daybreak, I looked out of the window, and saw half
a score more of large wagons, full of wounded men,
jolting along in the distance. It was the Prussians.
Then came two or three cannon, then a hundred
hussars, cuirassiers, dragoons, pell-mell, in great disorder; then dismounted horsemen, carrying their
cloak-bags on their shoulders, and covered with
mud. They all seemed tired; but they did not
stop, nor go into any of the houses, but marched
as if the devil were at their heels.
The people, standing at their doors, watched
them  sullenly. Looking toward the Birkenwald,
we could see the files of ambulances, wagons,
cavalry and infantry, stretching beyond the forest.
It was Field Marshal Brunswick's army in retreat
after the battle of Froeschwiller-as we learned
later. It had passed through the village in a
single night; that was from the 28th to the 29th
of December, if I remember rightly; it was early
in the next day that the mole-catcher and Koffel
arrived in high spirits; they had a letter from




MADAME THERESE.                    271
Uncle Jacob; and the mole-catcher, showing it to
us, said:
"Ha! ha! ha! this is good-this is good! the
reign of justice and   equality is beginning! Listen awhile!"
He sat down by the table, spreading out his
elbows.   I stood   near him, and     read  over his
shoulder, Lisbeth was behind me, very pale, and
Koffel, leaning against the cupboard, smiling and
stroking his chin. They had already read the
letter two or three times, and the mole-catcher
knew it nearly by heart.
He read what follows, stopping sometimes to
look at us with enthusiasm:
WISSEMBOURG, 8th NIVOSE, 2nd YEAn 
OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC. 
"To the Citizens Mole-catcher, and Koffel; to the Citoyenne
Lisbeth; to the little Citizen Fritzel, greeting and fraternity!
"Citoyenne Thdrbse and I wish yon joy, peace, and prosperity.
"You will know by this that we are writing these lines
at Wissenbourg in the midst of the triumphs of war. We
drove the Prussians from Froeschwiller, and fell like a
thunderbolt on the Austrians at Geisberg. Thus pride and
presumption are receiving their reward. When people will
not listen to good reasons, we must give them better ones;




272              MADAME THIRESE.
but it is terrible to go to such extremities; yes, it is terrible!
"My dear friends, for a long time I groaned inwardly
at the blindness of those who rule the dynasties of old
Germany. I deplored their unjust spirit, their egotism. I
asked myself if it were not my duty as an honest man
to break away from these arrogant creatures, and adopt
the principles of justice, equality, and fraternity, proclaimed by the French Revolution. This threw me into
great trouble, for a man clings to the ideas that he has
received from his ancestors, and such internal changes are
not made without great suffering.  Still I hesitated, but
when the Prussians, contrary to the laws of nations,
claimed the unfortunate prisoner whom I had saved, I
could bear it no longer. I immediately resolved to take
her to Pirmasens, instead of Kaiserslautern-which I have
done with the help of God. At three o'clock in the afternoon we came in sight of the outposts, and as Madame
Thdrese looked out, she heard the drum, and cried:
"These are the French! Doctor, you have deceived me!"
She threw herself into my arms, and burst into tears, and
I, too, began to weep-I was so much moved!
"All along the route from  Trois-lMaisons to the square
of the Temple-Neuf, the soldiers shouted, "Here's Citoyenne
Therese!" They followed us, and when we got out of the
sleigh, several embraced me with true feeling. Others
pressed my hands-in fact they overwhelmed me with
honors.
"I will not tell you, my dear friends, of the meeting
between Madame Thdrese and little Jean; such scenes




MADAME THIRESE.                    273
cannot be described! All the veterans of the battalion,
even Colonel Duchene, who is not soft-hearted, turned
their heads to conceal their tears. It was such a sight as I
had never seen in my life. Little Jean is a good boy;
he resembles my dear little Fritzel very much, so I love
him dearly.
"That day extraordinary events occurred at Pirmasens.
The Republicans were encamped around the city. General
Hoche announced that they were going into winter quarters, and ordered them to build barracks. But the soldiers
refused; they wanted to lodge in the houses. Then the
general declared that those who refused this service, should
not march to battle. I was present at this proclamation,
which was read to the companies, and saw General Hoche
forced to pardon the men, in front of the prince's palace,
for they were in the greatest despair.
"The general having learned that a physician from Anstatt had brought Citoyenne Therese back to the first
battalion of the second brigade, I received an order about
eight o'clock to go to the Orangery. Then I found the
General standing near a deal table, dressed like a simple
captain, with two other citizens, whom I was told, were
members of the convention, Lacoste and Baudot, two large,
lank men, who looked at me askance. The general is a
dark man, with golden-brown eyes, and hair parted in the
middle. He came forward and looked at me a few seconds. I,
remembering that this young man commanded the army of the
Moselle, felt troubled; but suddenly he extended his hand to
me, and said,'Doctor Wagner, I thank you for what you have
done for Madame Therese; you are a good-hearted man.'




274            MADAME THERESE.
"Then he led me to the table on which a map was
spread out, and made various inquiries about the country,
so intelligently, that one would have thought he knew
more about it than I. I naturally replied, the others listening in silence. Finally he said:'Doctor Wagner, I
cannot propose to you to serve in the armies of the
Republic; your nationality prevents that; but the first
battalion of the second brigade has just lost its chief surgeon; the service of our ambulances is now incomplete;
we have only young men to care for the wounded-I confide this post of honor to you-humanity knows no country!
Here is your commission.' He wrote some words at the
end of the table, and then took my hand again, saying:'Doctor, believe that I esteem you!' Then I went away.
"Madame Therese awaited me outside; you can conceive her joy, when she heard that I was to have charge
of the ambulance department of the battalion.
"We expected to remain at Pirmasens until spring, and
the barracks were being built, when on the next night
but one, about ten o'clock, we suddenly received orders
to march, without putting out the fires, without making
any noise, without beating the drums or sounding the
trumpet. All Pirmasens was asleep. I had two horses,
riding one, and leading the other, and was in the midst
of officers near Colonel Duchene.
"We left, some on horseback, others on foot, cannon
wagons, ambulances in our midst, flanked by the cavalry,
with no moon nor anything to guide us. Only from time
to time a horseman would cry at the turning of the road,This way!-this way!' Toward eleven the moon came




MADAME THPRESE.                     275
out; we were in the midst of the mountains; all the
peaks were white with snow. The foot soldiers, with their
guns on their shoulders, ran to warm themselves. Two
or three times I was obliged to dismount, I was so benumbed. Madame Therese, in her cart, covered with gray
cloth, handed me the bottle, and the captains were always
on hand to receive it after me; more than one soldier,
also, had his turn.
"But we went on, on, without stopping, so that about
six o'clock, when the pale sun began to brighten the sky,
we had reached Lembach, under the great wooded declivity of Steinfelz, three quarters of a league from Wcerth.
Then was heard on all sides, the command,'Halt! halt!'
Those in the rear were constantly coming; at half-past
six all the army was reunited in a valley, and set to
work to make soup.
" General Hoche, whom I saw   pass with his two tall
members of the Convention, was laughing; he seemed in
a good humor. He went into the last house in the village. The people were as astonished to see us at that
hour, as those in Anstatt were at the arrival of the Republicans. The houses here are so small and miserable,
that it was necessary to take two tables out of doors, and
the general held his council with the officers in the open
air, while the troops cooked the provisions they had
brought. This halt lasted only long enough for us to eat, and
buckle on our knapsacks again. Then we resumed our
march in better order. At eight o'clock, on coming out
of the valley of Reichshofen, we saw  the Prussians in.
trenched on the heights of Froeschwiller and Wcerth.




276            MADAME THERESRE.
They were more than twenty thousand strong, and their
redoubts rose one above the other.
"All our army understood that we had marched so
quickly in order to surprise the Prussians alone, for the
Austrians were four or five leagues from there, on the
line of the Motter.  But I cannot conceal from    you,
my dear friends, that this sight gave me, at first, a terrible shock. The more I saw, the more impossible it
seemed to me that we should gain the battle. In the first
place, they were more numerous than we; then they had
dug ditches intrenched with palisades, and behind them
one could easily see the gunners, who were leaning over
their cannon and watching us, while files of innumerable
bayonets stretched clear up the side of the hill.
"The French, with their careless natures, saw nothing
of this, and even seemed very joyous. The report was
spread that General Hoche had just promised six hundred
francs for every piece taken from the enemy; they were
laughing, putting their hats on one side, looking at the
cannons, and shouting-' Going! Gone!' It made one
shiver to see such indifference, and hear these pleasantries. The rest of us, the ambulances, the vehicles of all
sorts, the empty wagons for transporting the wounded,
remained in the rear; and to tell the truth, that gave me
real pleasure. Madame Therese was thirty or forty steps
in advance of me; I placed myself near her with my two
aids, one of whom had been an apothecary boy at Landrecies, and the other a dentist; they made themselves
surgeons. But they already have much experience, and
with a little leisure and pains, these young men will




MADAME THERESE.                     277
perhaps become something. Madame Therese then kissed
little Jean, who was running to join the battalion. The
whole valley, right and left, was filled with cavalry in good
order. General Hoche, on his arrival, at once placed two
batteries on the hills of Reichshofen, and the infantry
halted in the middle of the valley. There was another
consultation, then all the infantry ranged themselves in
three columns; one passed on the left into the gorge of
Reebach, the other two marched on the intrenchments,
with bayonets fixed. General Hoche, with some officers,
stationed himself on a little elevation to the left of the
valley.
"What followed, my dear friends, seems to me like a
dream. At the moment when the columns reached the
foot of the hill, a horrible crash, a kind of frightful
tearing sound was heard; everything was covered with
smoke; the Prussians had just discharged their cannon.
A second afterward, as the smoke cleared away a little, we
saw the French higher up the slope; they were slackening their speed, numbers of wounded were left behind,
some stretched on their faces, others seated, and trying
to rise.
"The Prussians fired   the  second time;-then     was
heard the terrible cry of the Republicans,' To the bayonet!'
And all the mountain sparkled like firebrands when one
stirs them up with his foot. We saw no more, because the
wind blew the smoke toward us, nor could we hear a word
at four feet distance, so loud was the firing-men and
cannon thundering and roaring together. Our cavalry horses
on the hills neighed, and tried to rush into the fight




278              MADAME TH]RESE.
These animals are truly savage; they love danger; it was
with great difficulty that they could be restrained. Occasionally there was an opening in the smoke, and we could see
the Republicans climbing the palisades like ants upon an anthill; some with the butt-end of their guns trying to break
down the intrenchments, others seeking a passage; the
colonels on horseback, their swords upraised, urged on
their men, and on the other side the Prussians thrust
forward their bayonets, and fired their guns into the heap
of bodies, or raised their great cannon -rammers like
clubs to beat down the men. It was frightful! A moment
after, another gust of wind covered everything with smoke,
and none could know how the struggle would end.
"General Hoche sent his officers, one after another, to
take new orders; they rushed through the smoke like the
wind; one would have thought them    shadows. But the
battle continued, and the Republicans were beginning to
recoil, when the general himself came down at full gallop.
Ten minutes afterward the song of the Marseillaise rose
above all the tumult, and those who had retreated, returned to the charge. The second attack began more
furiously than the first. The cannon alone still thuudered,
and struck down files of men. All the Republicans advanced en masse, Hoche in their midst. Our batteries,
too, fired on the Prussians. It is impossible to describe
what happened when the French were once near the
palisades. If Father Adam Schmitt had been with us he
would have seen what may be called a terrible battle.
The Prussians showed themselves soldiers of the great
Frederick; bayonets against bayonets, -sometimes   one




MADAME THTR.ESE.                   279
party, sometimes the other was driven back, or rushed
forward.
"But what decided the victory for the Republicans, was
the arrival of their third column on the heights, on the
left of the intrenchments. It had turned the Reebach, and
came out from the forest double quick. Then the Prussians were obliged to give up the struggle; attacked on
both sides they retreated, leaving eighteen pieces of cannon, twenty-four wagons, and their intrenchments filled
with the dead and wounded. They went toward Wcerth,
and our hussars, beside themselves with impatience, started at last, bending forward on their saddles. We learned
that night that they had taken twelve hundred prisoners,
and six pieces of cannon.
"This, my dear friends, was the battle of Wcerth and
Froeschwiller, the news of which must have reached you
already. It will ever remain present to my mind. Since
that, I have seen nothing new. But what work we have
had! We have had to amputate, to extract balls; our
ambulances are loaded with the wounded. It is very sad.
"Nevertheless, the day after the battle, the army moved
forward. Four days afterward we were told that the
members Lacoste and Baudot, being convinced that the
rivalry between Hoche and Pichegru was injurious to the
interests of the Republic, had given the command entirely
to Hoche, and that he, finding himself at the head of
the armies of the Rhine and Moselle, without losing a
moment, had profited by it to attack Wurmser on the
road to Wissembourg, and that we had completely routed
him at Geisberg, so that now the Prussians are retreating




280             MADAME THERESE.
to Mayence, the Austrians to Gemersheim, and thr terri.
tory of the Republic is relieved of all its enemies.
"As for me, I am    now at Wissembourg overwhelmed
with work; Madame Therese and little Jean, and the remnant of the first battalion, occupy the place, and the
army is on the march to Landau, the happy deliverance
of which will be the admiration of future ages. Soon,
soon, dear friends, we will follow the army, we will pass
through Anstatt, crowned with the palms of victory. We
shall again press you to our hearts, and celebrate with
you the triumph of justice and liberty. Oh dear liberty!
rekindle in our souls the sacred fire which formerly burned
in the breasts of so many heroes. Create among us generations which may resemble them, that the heart of
every citizen may leap at thy voice. Inspire the wise who
plan; lead the courageous to heroic actions; animate
the soldiers with a sublime enthusiasm; may despots who
divide nations for the sake of oppressing them, disappear
from the world, and may the sacred bond of brotherhood
reunite all the peoples of the earth in one family!
"With these wishes, and these hopes, the good Madame
TherBse, little Jean and I, embrace you with all our
hearts.
"JACOB WAGNER.
"P. S.-Little Jean begs his friend Fritzel to take good
care of Scipio."
Uncle Jacob's letter filled us all with joy, and
after that you may imagine with what impatience




MADAME THERESE.               281
we awaited the arrival of the first battalion.
This epoch of my life, when I think of it,
seems to me like a fete; every day we learned
something new; after the occupation of Wissembourg came the raising of the siege of Landau, then
the capture of Lauterbourg, then that of Kaiserslautern, and the occupation of Spire, where the
French collected great spoils, which Hoche caused
to be carried to Landau to indemnify the inhabitants
for their losses.
The people of the village now held us in respect as much as they had formerly abused
us. It was even a question with them whether
they should not put Koffel in the town council,
and appoint the mole-catcher burgomaster-no one
knew why, for nobody had such an idea until
then. But the report was spread that we were
going to become Frenchmen again; we had been
French fifteen hundred years before, and it was
abominable that we had so long allowed ourselves to be held in slavery. Richter had taken
flight, knowing very well what he might expect,
and Spick no longer left his house. Every day
the people on the main street looked toward the
mountain to watch for the true defenders of
their country. Unfortunately the greater part of




282          MADAME THERkSE.
the army had taken the road from Wissembourg
to MIayence, leaving Anstatt on their left in the
mountains. We saw stragglers pass who were
taking the short road through the Burgerwald.
We were much troubled, and were beginning to
think that our battalion would never come, when
one day the mole-catcher rushed in, breathless,
crying:
"Here they are! Here they are!"
He was returning from the fields with his spade
on his shoulder, and had seen a troop of soldiers in the distance. The whole village had already heard the news, and came irito the street.
I, beside myself with enthusiasm, ran to meet the
battalion, with Hans Aden and Frantz Sepel, whom
I met on the road.   The sun was shining, the
snow was melting, the mud splashed round us like
grape-shot, but we did not mind it, and ran for
half an hour without stopping. Half the village,
men, women, and children, followed us, shouting:
"They're coming! They're coming!"
People's ideas changed in a singular manner,
-everybody was then a friend to the Republic.
Once on   the side of the Birkenwald, Hans,
Frantz, and I at last saw our battalion marching
up the declivity, their knapsacks on their backs,




MADAME THJiRESE.               283
their guns on their shoulders, the officers behind
their companies.  Farther off the wagons were
defiling over the great bridge. They all came on,
whistling, talking, as soldiers do on the march.
One stopped to light his pipe, another gave a shrug
of his shoulder to raise his knapsack.  We could
hear gay voices and shouts of laughter, for the
French when they march always tell stories and
make funny speeches, to keep up their spirits.
In this crowd my eyes sought only Uncle Jacob
and Madame Therese. It was some time before I
discovered them, in the rear of the battalion.
My uncle was riding Rappel.    I hardly recognized him at first, for he wore a large Republican hat, a coat with red lappels, and a great
sword in an iron scabbard. This costume changed
him wonderfully, and made him seem much taller;
but I knew   him, notwithstanding, and Madame
Therese also, in her cart covered with cloth, in
the same hat and cravat in which I first saw
her. She had rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes. My
uncle rode near her, and they were talking together. I recognized little Jean, also, whom I had seen
only  once.  He was marching;     a large belt
adorned with drum-sticks crossed his breast, his
arms were covered with lace, and his sword dan



284          MADAME THERESE.
gled behind. And the Colonel, Sergeant Lafleche,
and the captain to whom I had shown the way into
our garret, and all the soldiers,-yes, nearly all,
-I recognized; they seemed to me to be one
great family. It gave me pleasure to see the flag
covered with oil-cloth, too. I ran through the
crowd. Hans Aden and Frantz Sepel had already
found comrades,-but I ran on, and as I came near
the cart, was going to say, "Uncle! Uncle!"
when Madame Therese, happening to bend forward, exclaimed, joyfully:
"Here's Scipio!"
And at that moment, Scipio, whom I had forgotten and left at home, sprang into the cart, all
bewildered and muddy. Little Jean immediately
cried:
"Scipio!"
And the good dog, after passing his great
moustache two or three times over Madame Therese's face, sprang to the ground and began to
leap  about Jean, barking, uttering  cries, and
acting as if he were wild with delight. All the
battalion called:
"Here, Scipio! Scipio!"
My uncle had just seen me, and held out
his arms to me from his horse. I seized his




MADAME TH    _RESE.            285
leg; he raised and kissed me.   I saw  that he
was weeping, and that made me cry.    He held
me toward Madame Therese, who took me in
her cart, saying:
"Good-day, Fritzel."
She seemed very happy, and kissed me with
tears in her eyes.
Very soon the mole-catcher and Koffel came up
and grasped my uncle's hand; then other people from the village, mixing, pell-mell, with the
soldiers, who gave the men their knapsacks and
guns to carry in triumph, and cried to the women"Hey, good mother with your pretty daughter!
this way-this way!"
There was great confusion; everybody fraternized, and in the midst of all, little Jean and I
knew not which was the happiest.
"Kiss little Jean," cried Uncle Jacob.
"Kiss Fritzel," said Madame Therese.
And we embraced, looking at each other in bewildered delight.
"1I me plait," cried little Jean, "il a l'air bon
enfant."
"Toi, tu me plais aussz," said I, very proud of
speaking French.




286            MADAME THERESE.
And we walked along arm-in-arm, while Uncle
Jacob and Madame Therese looked at each other
and smiled.
The Colonel, also, gave me his hand, saying:
"Ha! Dr. Wagner, here's your defender. You're
quite well, my brave fellow?"
"Yes, Colonel."
"So much the better!"
In this manner we reached the first houses of
the village. Then we stopped a few minutes
to get in order. Little Jean hung his drum
over his shoulder, and as the commander cried
"Forward! March!" the drums sounded.
We marched down the main street in regular
order, delighted at making so imposing an entrance. All the old men and women who could
not get out, were —at their windows, and pointed
to Uncle Jacob, who advanced with a dignified
air behind the Colonel, between his two assistants.  I noticed  Father Schmitt particularly,
standing at his door; he straightened up his tall,
bent figure, and watched   us filing  past, with
sparkling eyes.
At the square with the fountain the Colonel
cried:
" Halt!"




MADAME THeRESE.                287
They stacked their guns, and all dispersed,
right and left. Each citizen wished to have a
soldier; all wanted to rejoice in the triumph of
the Republic, "one and indivisible." But these
Frenchmen, with their cheerful faces, preferred to
follow the pretty girls.  The Colonel went with
us.  Old Lisbeth was already at the door, her
hands raised to heaven, and cried:
"Ah   Madame Therese!-ah     monsieur le docteur!"
There were fresh cries of joy, fresh embraces.
Then we went in, and the feast of ham, chitterlings, and broiled meat, with white wine and
old Burgundy to drink, began; Koffel, the molecatcher, the Colonel, little Jean and I,-I leave
you to imagine the table, the appetites, the satisfaction!
All that day the first battalion remained with
us; then they were obliged to pursue their
march, for their winter quarters were at Hacmatt,
two short leagues from Anstatt. My uncle staid
in the village.  He laid aside his great sword
and large hat; but from that time until spring not a
day passed that he did not go to Hacmatt; he
thought of nothing but Hacmatt.
Madame Therese came to see us occasionally




288          MADAME THlRESE.
with little Jean.  We laughed, we were happy,
and we loved each other!
What more shall I say? In the spring, when
the lark began to sing, we heard one day that
the first battalion was going to leave for La
Vendee. Then my uncle, very pale, ran to the
stable, and mounted Rappel; he rode off at full
speed, bareheaded, having forgotten to put on
his cap.
What passed at Hacmatt?      I know nothing
about it.  But what I am sure of is that the
next day my uncle returned, as proud as a king,
with Madame Therese and little Jean; that there
was a great feast at our house, kisses and rejoicing.
Eight days afterward Colonel Duchene arrived with all the captains of the battalion. That
day there were still greater rejoicings.  Madame
Therese and Uncle Jacob went to the mayoralty,
followed by a long procession of joyous guests.
The mole-catcher, who had been chosen burgomaster by popular vote, awaited us in his tricolored scarf.  He entered my uncle's and Madame Therese's names in a thick register, to
everybody's satisfaction.  And  from  that time
little Jean had a father, and I had a good




MADAME THERESE.               289
mother, whose memory I cannot recall without
shedding tears.
There are many more things I should like to
tell you-but this is enough for one time.   If
the good God permits, we will one day continue
this story, which  ends,-like  all others,-with
white hairs, and the last adieus of those whom
we love best in the world.
THE END.








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