Immediately
a formidable platoon fire was opened.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v27 - Wat to Zor
He let them talk on.
Perhaps he
remembered his own marriage. Neither had he a red sou, when
he married Madeleine and her mill; but that did not prevent
his making a good husband. Besides, Dominique cut the gossip
short by going to work with such a will that the whole country
marveled at it. It so happened that the miller's boy had just
been drafted; and Dominique would never hear of his hiring
another. He carried the sacks, drove the cart, struggled with
the old wheel when it had to be begged hard before it would
turn; and all with such a will that people would come to look at
him, for sheer pleasure. Old Merlier laughed his quiet laugh.
He was very proud of having scented out this fellow. There is
nothing like love for putting heart into young people.
In the midst of all this hard work, Françoise and Dominique
adored each other. They hardly ever spoke, but they looked at
each other with smiling tenderness. So far, old Merlier had not
said a single word about the marriage; and they both respected
## p. 16301 (#655) ##########################################
ÉMILE ZOLA
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this silence, awaiting the old man's pleasure. At last, one day
about the middle of July, he had three tables set out in the
court-yard under the big elm, inviting his friends in Rocreuse
to come and take a drink with him in the evening. When the
court-yard was full, and every one had his glass in his hand, old
Merlier raised his very high, saying: -
« This is for the pleasure of announcing to you that Fran-
çoise will marry that fellow there in a month, on St. Louis's
day. ”
Then they clinked glasses noisily. Everybody laughed. But
old Merlier, raising his voice, went on:-
Dominique, kiss your intended. That must be done. "
And they kissed each other, very red, while the crowd laughed
still louder. It was a real jollification. A small cask was emp-
tied. Then when only the intimate friends were left, they chat-
ted quietly. Night had come,-a starlit and very clear night.
Dominique and Françoise, sitting side by side on a bench, said
nothing. An old peasant spoke of the war the Emperor had
declared with Prussia. All the boys in the village were already
gone. The day before, troops had passed through. There would
be hard knocks going.
“Bah! ” said old Merlier, with a happy man's egoism.
<< Dom-
inique is a foreigner,- he won't go. And if the Prussians come,
he will be here to defend his wife. ”
This notion that the Prussians might come seemed a good
joke. They were to be given an A i thrashing, and it would be
soon over.
“I've seen 'em, I've seen 'em,” the old peasant said over and
over again.
There was a silence. Then they clinked glasses once more.
Françoise and Dominique had heard nothing; they had taken
each other softly by the hand, behind the bench, so that no one
could see them; and it seemed so good that they stayed there,
their eyes lost in the depths of the darkness.
How warm and splendid a night! The village was falling
asleep on both sides of the road, tranquil as a child.
You only
heard from time to time the crowing of some cock, waked too
From the great woods hard by came long breaths that
passed like caresses over the roofs. The meadows with their
black shadows put on a mysterious and secluded majesty, while
all the running waters that gushed forth into the darkness
I
soon.
## p. 16302 (#656) ##########################################
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ÉMILE ZOLA
seemed to be the cool and rhythmic breathing of the sleeping
country. At moments the mill-wheel, fast asleep, seemed to be
dreaming, like those old watch-dogs that bark while snoring. It
creaked, it talked all by itself, lulled by the falls of the Morelle,
whose sheet of water gave forth the sustained and musical note
of an organ-pipe. Never had more wide-spread peace fallen over
a happier corner of the earth.
II
Just a month later, day for day, on St. Louis's eve, Ro-
creuse was in dismay. The Prussians had beaten the Emperor,
and were advancing toward the village by forced marches. For
a week past, people passing along the road had announced the
Prussians,—« They are at Lormière; they are at Novelles: ” and
hearing that they were approaching so fast, Rocreuse thought
every morning to see them come down by the Gagny woods.
Still they did not come: this frightened the inhabitants still
more. They would surely fall upon the village at night, and cut
everybody's throat.
The night before, a little before daybreak, there had been an
alarm. The inhabitants had waked up, hearing a great noise
of men
on the road.
The women were just falling on their
knees and crossing themselves, when red trousers were recognized
through cracks of windows prudently opened. It was a detach-
ment of French. The captain immediately asked for the mayor
of the place, and stayed at the mill, after talking with old Mer-
lier.
The sun rose gayly that day. It would be hot at noon. Over
the woods floated a yellow light; while in the distance above the
meadows, rose white vapors. The clean, pretty village awoke in
the cool air; and the country, with its river and springs, had
the dew-sprinkled loveliness of a nosegay. But this fine weather
made no one laugh. They had just seen the captain walk round
about the mill, examine the neighboring houses, cross to the
other side of the Morelle, and from there study the country
through a spyglass; old Merlier, who was with him, seemed to
be explaining the country to him. Then the captain stationed
soldiers behind walls, behind trees, in holes in the ground. The
bulk of the detachment was stationed in the court-yard of the
## p. 16303 (#657) ##########################################
ÉMILE ZOLA
16303
C
(
mill. So there was to be a fight? And when old Merlier came
back, he was plied with questions. He gave a long nod with his
head, without speaking. Yes, there was to be a fight.
Françoise and Dominique were in the court-yard, looking at
him. At last he took his pipe out of his mouth and said sim-
ply:--
"Ah! my poor children, there will be no wedding for you to-
morrow! »
Dominique, his lips set, a line of anger across his forehead,
raised himself up on tiptoe from time to time, with his eyes fixed
on the Gagny woods, as if he longed to see the Prussians come.
Françoise, very pale, serious, came and went, supplying the sol-
diers with what they needed. They were making their soup in
a corner of the court-yard, and joking while waiting for their
meal.
Meanwhile the captain seemed delighted. He had examined
the rooms and the great hall of the mill, looking out upon the
river. Now, sitting by the well, he was talking with old Merlier.
“You have a real fortress here,” said he. “We ought to hold
out till evening. The beggars are late. They should be here by
this time.
The miller looked serious. He saw his mill flaming like a
torch; but he did not complain, thinking it useless.
He only
opened his mouth to say:--
“ You ought to have some one hide the boat behind the wheel.
There is a hole there that will hold her. Perhaps she may be
of use. "
The captain gave an order, This captain was a handsome
man of about forty, tall and with a kindly face. The sight of
Françoise and Dominique seemed to please him. He was inter-
ested in them, as if he had forgotten the coming struggle. He
followed Françoise about with his eyes, and his look told plainly
that he found her charming. Then turning to Dominique:
“So you're not in the army, my boy? ” he asked abruptly.
"I'm a foreigner,” the young man answered.
The captain seemed only half pleased with this reason. He
winked and smiled. Françoise was pleasanter company than can-
non. Then, seeing him smile, Dominique added:-
“I'm a foreigner, but I can put a bullet into an apple at five
hundred metres. — See, my gun's there, behind you. "
>>
(
## p. 16304 (#658) ##########################################
16304
ÉMILE ZOLA
(
was
« It may be of use to you,” the captain replied simply.
Françoise had come up, trembling a little. And without
minding the people there, Dominique took both the hands she
held out to him, and pressed them in his, as if to take her under
his protection. The captain smiled again, but added not a word.
He remained sitting, his sword between his legs, his eyes looking
at vacancy, as if in a dream.
It was already two o'clock. It was growing very hot. There
a dead silence. In the court-yard, under the sheds, the
soldiers had fallen to eating their soup. Not a sound came
from the village, in which the people had barricaded their houses,
doors, and windows. A dog left alone in the road was howling.
From the neighboring woods and meadows, motionless in the
heat, came a far-off voice, long sustained, made up of every sep-
arate breath of air. A cuckoo was singing. Then the silence
spread itself over the country also.
And in this slumbering air a shot suddenly burst forth. The
captain sprang up quickly; the soldiers dropped their plates of
soup, still half full.
In a few seconds every man was at his post
for the fight; the mill was occupied from top to bottom. Yet
the captain, who had gone out upon the road, could make out
nothing: to the right and left the road stretched out, empty and
all white. A second shot was heard, and still nothing, not a
shadow; but on turning round, he espied, over towards Gagny,
between two trees, a light cloudlet of smoke wafted away like
gossamer. The wood was still profoundly quiet.
« The rascals have taken to the forest,” he muttered. (They
know we are here. ”
Then the firing kept up, harder and harder, between the
French soldiers stationed round the mill and the Prussians hidden
behind the trees. The bullets whistled across the Morelle, with-
out occasioning any loss on one side or the other. The shots
were irregular, coming from every bush; and all you saw was
still the little clouds of smoke gently wafted away by the wind,
This lasted for nearly two hours. The officer hummed a tune, as
if indifferent. Françoise and Dominique, who had stayed in
the court-yard, raised themselves up on tiptoe and looked over
the wall. They were particularly interested in watching a little
soldier, stationed on the brink of the Morelle, behind the hulk of
an old boat; he was flat on his belly, watched his chance, fired
## p. 16305 (#659) ##########################################
ÉMILE ZOLA
16305
his shot, then let himself slide down into a ditch a little behind
him, to reload his rifle; and his movements were so droll, so
cunning, so supple, that it made one smile to see him. He must
have espied the head of some Prussian, for he got up quickly
and brought his piece to his shoulder; but before he fired,
he gave a cry, turned over upon himself, and rolled into the
ditch, where his legs stiffened out with the momentary convuls-
ive jerk of those of a chicken with its neck wrung. The little
soldier had received a bullet full in the breast. He was the first
man killed.
Instinctively Françoise seized hold of Dominique's
hand and squeezed it with a nervous grip.
“Don't stay there,” said the captain. « The bullets reach
here. "
As he spoke, a little sharp stroke was heard in the old elm,
and a branch fell in zigzags through the air; but the young peo-
ple did not stir, riveted there by anxiety at the sight. On the
outskirts of the wood, a Prussian came out suddenly from behind
a tree, as from a side scene, beating the air with his arms, and
tumbling over backwards. And then nothing stirred: the two
dead men seemed to sleep in the dazzling sunshine; you saw
one in the torpid landscape. Even the crack of the shots
stopped. Only the Morelle kept up its silver-toned whispering.
Old Merlier looked at the captain in surprise, as if to ask if
it were over.
"Here it comes,” the latter muttered. “Look out! Don't stay
there. "
He had not finished speaking when there came
a terrific
volley. It was as if the great elm were mowed down; a cloud
of leaves whirled about them. Luckily the Prussians had fired
too high. Dominique dragged, almost carried Françoise away;
while old Merlier followed them, crying out:-
«Go down to the little cellar: the walls are solid. ”
But they did not mind him; they went into the great hall
where ten soldiers or so were waiting in silence, with shutters
closed, peeping through the cracks. The captain had stayed
alone in the court-yard, crouched down behind the little wall,
while the furious volleys continued. The soldiers he had sta-
tioned outside yielded ground only foot by foot. Yet they came
in, one by one, crawling on their faces, when the enemy had
dislodged them from their hiding-places. Their orders were to
no
»
XXVI-I020
## p. 16306 (#660) ##########################################
16306
ÉMILE ZOLA
gain time, not to show themselves; so that the Prussians might
not know what numbers they had before them. Another hour
went by; and as a sergeant came up, saying that there were
only two or three men left outside, the officer looked at his
watch, muttering:-
« Half after two. Come, we must hold out four hours. ”
He had the gate of the court-yard shut, and all preparations
were made for an energetic resistance. As the Prussians were
on the other side of the Morelle, an immediate assault was not
to be feared. To be sure, there was a bridge, a little over a
mile off, but they doubtless did not know of its existence; and it
was hardly probable that they would try to ford the river. So
the officer merely had the road watched. The whole effort was
to be made on the side toward the fields,
The firing had once more ceased. The mill seemed dead
beneath the hot sun. Not a shutter was opened, not a sound
came from the inside. Little by little, meanwhile, the Prussians
showed themselves at the outskirts of the Gagny wood. They
stretched forth their heads, grew more daring. In the mill, sev-
eral soldiers had already leveled their rifles, but the captain cried
out:
No, no, wait. Let them come up. ”
They were very cautious about it, looking at the mill with
evident distrust. This old dwelling, silent and dismal, with its
curtains of ivy, made them uneasy. Still they kept advancing.
When there were about fifty of them in the meadow opposite,
the officer said a single word:-
« Fire ! »
A tearing sound was heard, followed by single shots. Fran-
çoise, shaken with a fit of trembling, put her hands up to her
ears, in spite of herself. Dominique, behind the soldiers, looked
on; and when the smoke had blown away a little, he saw three
Prussians stretched on their backs in the middle of the field.
The rest had thrown themselves down behind the willows and
poplars; and the siege began.
For over an hour the mill was riddled with bullets. They
whipped its old walls like hail. When they struck stone, you
beard them flatten out and fall back into the water. Into wood
they penetrated with a hollow sound. Now and then a cracking
told that the wheel had been hit. The soldiers inside husbanded
>
## p. 16307 (#661) ##########################################
ÉMILE ZOLA
16307
>>>
their shots,- fired only when they could take aim. From time to
—
time the captain would look at his watch; and as a ball split a
shutter and then lodged in the ceiling:-
Four o'clock,” he muttered. « We shall never hold out. "
It was true: this terrible firing of musketry was shivering
the old mill. A shutter fell into the water, riddled like a piece
of lace, and had to be replaced by a mattress. Old Merlier
exposed himself every moment, to make sure of the injury done
to his poor wheel, whose cracking went to his heart. It was all
over with it this time: never would he be able to repair it.
Dominique had implored Françoise to go, but she would stay
with him; she had sat down behind a great oak clothes-press, the
sides of which gave out a deep sound. Then Dominique placed
himself in front of Françoise. He had not fired yet; he held his
gun in his hands, not being able to get up to the windows, whose
entire width was taken up by the soldiers. At every discharge
the floor shook.
"Look out! look out! ” the captain cried of a sudden.
'He had just seen a whole black mass come out from the
wood.
Immediately a formidable platoon fire was opened. It
was as if a waterspout had passed over the mill. Another shut-
ter gave way; and by the gaping opening of the window the
bullets came in. Two soldiers rolled upon the floor. One did
not move; they pushed him up against the wall, because he was
The other squirmed on the ground, begging them
to make an end of him; but no one minded him: the balls kept
coming in; every one shielded himself, and tried to find a loop-
hole to fire back through. A third soldier was wounded; he said
not a word, he let himself slide down by the edge of a table,
with fixed and haggard eyes. Opposite the dead men, Fran-
çoise, seized with horror, had pushed her chair aside mechanically,
to sit down on the ground next the wall; she felt smaller there,
and in less danger. Meanwhile they had gone after all the mat-
tresses in the house, and had half stopped up the window. The
hall was getting filled with rubbish, with broken weapons, with
gutted furniture.
“Five o'clock," said the captain. « Keep it up.
They are
going to try to cross the water. »
At this instant Françoise gave a shriek. A rebounding ball
had just grazed her forehead. A few drops of blood appeared.
Dominique looked at her; then stepping up to the window, he
in the way.
>>
## p. 16308 (#662) ##########################################
16308
ÉMILE ZOLA
fired his first shot, and kept on firing. He loaded, fired, without
paying any attention to what was going on near him; only from
time to time he would give Françoise a look. For the rest, he
did not hurry himself, - took careful aim. The Prussians, creep-
ing along by the poplars, were attempting the passage of the
Morelle, as the captain had foreseen; but as soon as one of
them risked showing himself, he would fall, hit in the head by a
ball from Dominique. The captain who followed this game was
astonished. He complimented the young man, saying that he
would be glad to have a lot of marksmen like him. Dominique
did not hear him. A ball cut his shoulder, another bruised his
arm; and he kept on firing.
There were two more men killed. The mattresses, all slashed
to bits, no longer stopped up the windows. A last volley seemed
as if it would carry away the mill. The position was no longer
tenable. Still the officer repeated:-
« Stick to it. Half an hour more. ”
Now he counted the minutes. He had promised his superior
officers to hold the enemy there until evening, and would not
draw back a sole's breadth before the time he had set for the
retreat. He still had his gracious manner; smiling at Françoise,
to reassure her. He himself had just picked up a dead soldier's
rifle, and was firing.
There were only four soldiers left in the hall. The Prussians
showed themselves in a body on the other bank of the Morelle,
and it was evident that they might cross the river at any time.
A few minutes more elapsed. The captain stuck to it obsti-
nately, and would not give the order to retreat; when a sergeant
came running up saying: -
« They are on the road: they are going to take us in the
rear. »
The Prussians must have found the bridge. The captain
pulled out his watch.
“Five minutes more,” said he. “They won't be here for five
minutes. »
Then at the stroke of six, he at last consented to order his
men out by a little door opening upon an alley-way. From there
they threw themselves into a ditch; they reached the Sauval for-
est. Before going, the captain saluted old Merlier very politely,
excusing himself; and he even added:
“Make them lose time. We shall be back again. ”
## p. 16309 (#663) ##########################################
ÉMILE ZOLA
16309
Meanwhile Dominique stayed on in the hall. He still kept
firing, hearing nothing, understanding nothing. He only felt
that he must defend Françoise. The soldiers were gone, without
his suspecting it the least in the world. He took aim and killed
his man at every shot. Suddenly there was a loud noise. The
Prussians, from the rear, had just overrun the court-yard. He
fired his last shot, and they fell upon him as his piece was still
smoking.
Four men held him. Others shouted round him in a fright-
ful language. They all-but cut his throat off-hand. Françoise
threw herself before him in supplication; but an officer came in
and took charge of the prisoner. After a few sentences ex-
changed in German with the soldiers, he turned to Dominique
and said roughly, and in very good French:-
“You will be shot in two hours. »
>>>
III
It was a rule made by the German staff: every Frenchman
not belonging to the regular army, and taken with arms in his
hands, should be shot. Even the guerrilla companies were not
recognized as belligerents. By thus making terrible examples
of the peasants who defended their own firesides, the Germans
wished to prevent the uprising of the whole country en masse,
which they dreaded.
The officer, a tall lean man of about fifty, put Dominique
through a brief examination. Although he spoke very pure
French, he had quite the Prussian stiffness.
“ You belong in these parts ? ”
“No, I am a Belgian. ”
“Why have you taken up arms? All this can't be any of
your business. »
Dominique did not answer. At this moment the officer caught
sight of Françoise, standing upright and very pale, listening; her
slight wound put a red bar across her white forehead. He looked
at the young people, one after the other, seemed to understand,
and contented himself with adding: -
« You don't deny that you were firing ? ”
"I fired as long as I was able,” Dominique answered quietly.
This confession was needless; for he was black with powder,
covered with sweat, spotted with some drops of blood that had
run down from the scratch on his shoulder.
## p. 16310 (#664) ##########################################
16310
ÉMILE ZOLA
>>
a
“Very well,” the officer repeated. « You will be shot in two
hours. ”
Françoise did not cry out. She clasped her hands together,
and raised them in a gesture of mute despair. The officer noticed
this gesture. Two soldiers had led Dominique away into the next
room, where they were to keep him in sight. The young girl
had dropped down upon a chair, her legs giving way under her;
she could not cry, she was choking. Meanwhile the officer kept
looking at her closely. At last he spoke to her.
“That young man is your brother? he asked.
She shook her head. He stood there stiff, without a smile.
Then after a silence:
«He has lived a long while in these parts ? ”
She nodded yes, still dumb.
« Then he must know the woods round here very well ? »
This time she spoke.
“Yes, sir,” she said, looking at him in some surprise.
He said no more, and turned on his heel, asking to have the
mayor of the village brought to him. But Françoise had risen, a
faint flush on her face, thinking to have caught the drift of his
questions, and seeing fresh hope in them. It was she who ran to
find her father.
Old Merlier, as soon as the shots had ceased, had run quickly
down the wooden steps to look at his wheel. He adored his
daughter, he had a stout friendship for Dominique, his intended
son-in-law; but his wheel also held a large place in his heart.
As the two young ones, as he called them, had come safe and
sound out of the scrimmage, he thought of his other love, and
this one had suffered grievously. And bending over the huge
wooden carcass, he investigated its wounds, the picture of distress.
Five paddles were in splinters, the central framework was rid-
dled. He stuck his fingers into the bullet-holes to measure their
depth; he thought over how he could repair all this damage.
Françoise found him already stopping up cracks with broken bits
of wood and moss.
Father,” she said, "you are wanted. ”
And at last she wept, telling him what she had just heard.
Old Merlier shook his head. You didn't shoot people that way.
He must see. And he went back into the mill with his silent,
pacific air.
When the officer asked him for victuals for his men,
he answered that the people in Rocreuse were not accustomed
to being bullied, and that nothing would be got from them by
## p. 16311 (#665) ##########################################
ÉMILE ZOLA
16311
»
violence. He took everything upon himself, but on the condition
of being allowed to act alone. The officer showed signs, at first,
of getting angry at this cool manner; then he gave in to the old
man's curt and business-like way of talking. He even called him
back to ask him :-
“What do you call those woods there, opposite ? ”
« The Sauval woods. "
"And what is their extent ? »
The miller looked at him fixedly.
“I don't know,” he answered.
And he walked away. An hour later, the contribution of
victuals and money required by the officer were in the court-
yard of the mill. Night was approaching; Françoise followed
the soldiers' movements anxiously. She did not go far from the
room in which Dominique was shut up. At about seven she
had a poignant emotion: she saw the officer go into the prison-
er's room, and for a quarter of an hour she heard their voices
raised. One instant the officer reappeared on the threshold, to
give an order in German, which she did not understand: but
when twelve men came and fell into line in the court-yard with
their muskets, she fell a-trembling; she felt ready to die. So it
was all over: the execution was to take place. The twelve men
waited there ten minutes. Dominique's voice was still raised
in a violent refusal. At last the officer came out, slamming the
door and saying: -
“Very well; think it over. I give you till to-morrow morn-
ing. ”
And with a motion of his arm, he ordered the twelve men to
break ranks. Françoise stayed on in a sort of stupor. Old Mer-
lier, who had not stopped smoking his pipe, while looking at the
squad with an air of simple curiosity, came up and took her by
the arm with fatherly gentleness. He led her to her room.
"Keep quiet,” he said; «try to sleep. To-morrow it will be
“
daylight, and we will see. ”
When he withdrew he locked her in, for prudence's sake. It
was a principle of his that women were no good, and that they
made a mess of it whenever they undertook anything serious.
But Françoise did not go to bed: she stayed a long time sitting
on her bed, listening to the noises in the house. The German
soldiers, encamped in the court-yard, were singing and laughing:
they must have been eating and drinking up to eleven, for the
»
## p. 16312 (#666) ##########################################
16312
ÉMILE ZOLA
noise did not stop for an instant. In the mill itself, heavy steps
sounded every now and then: no doubt they were relieving sen-
tries. But what interested her above all were noises that she
could not make out, in the room under hers. Several times
she lay down on the ground; she put her ear to the floor. This
room happened to be the one in which Dominique was locked
up. He must have been walking from the wall to the window,
for she long heard the cadence of his steps: then there was a
dead silence; he had doubtless sat down. Besides, the noises
stopped; everything was hushed in sleep. When the house
seemed to her to slumber, she opened the window as softly as
possible, and rested her elbows on the sill.
Outside the night was calm and warm.
The slender crescent
moon, setting behind the Sauval woods, lighted up the country
with the glimmer of a night-taper. The elongated shadows of
the great trees barred the meadows with black; while the grass,
in the unshaded spots, put on the softness of greenish velvet.
But Françoise did not stop to note the mysterious charm of the
night. She examined the country, looking for the sentinels that
the Germans must have stationed on one side. She plainly saw
their shadows, ranged like rungs of a ladder along the Morelle.
Only a single one stood opposite the mill, on the other side of
the river, near a willow whose branches dipped into the water.
Françoise saw him distinctly: he was a big fellow, standing
motionless, his face turned toward the sky with the dreamy look
of a shepherd.
Then when she had carefully inspected the ground, she went
back and sat down upon her bed. She stayed there an hour,
deeply absorbed. Then she listened again: in the house not a
breath stirred. She went back to the window, and looked out;
but no doubt she saw danger in one of the horns of the moon,
which still appeared behind the trees, for she went back again
to wait. At last the time seemed to have come. The night was
quite dark: she no longer saw the sentinel opposite; the country
lay spread out like a pool of ink. She listened intently for a
moment, and made up her mind. An iron ladder ran near the
window,- some bars let into the wall, leading from the wheel up
to the loft, down which the millers used to climb to get at cer-
tain cog-wheels; then when the machinery had been altered, the
ladder had long since disappeared beneath the rank growth of
ivy that covered that side of the mill.
## p. 16313 (#667) ##########################################
ÉMILE ZOLA
16313
Françoise bravely climbed over the balustrade of her window,
grasped one of the iron bars, and found herself in empty space.
She began to climb down. Her skirts were much in her way.
Suddenly a stone broke loose from the masonry, and fell into
the Morelle with a resounding splash. She stopped, chilled with
a shudder. But she saw that the waterfall, with its continuous
roar, drowned out from afar any noise she might make; and she
climbed down more boldly, feeling for the ivy with her foot,
making sure of the rungs of the ladder. When she had got on
a level with the room that was used as Dominique's prison, she
stopped. An unforeseen difficulty nearly made her lose all her
courage: the window of the room below was not cut regularly,
under the window of her chamber; it was some way from the
ladder, and when she stretched out her hand she felt only the
wall. Would she have to climb up again, without carrying her
plan through to the end ? Her arms were getting tired; the mur-
mur of the Morelle beneath her began to make her dizzy. Then
she tore off little bits of mortar from the wall, barking her fin-
gers. And her strength was giving out: she felt herself falling
backwards, when Dominique, at last, softly opened his window.
“It's I,” she whispered. « Take me quick, - I'm falling. ”
It was the first time she had tutoyéed him. He caught her,
leaning out, and lifted her into the room. There she had a fit
of tears, stilling her sobs so as not to be heard. Then by a
supreme effort she calmed herself.
“ You are guarded ? ” she asked in a low voice.
Dominique, still dumbfounded at seeing her thus, made a
simple sign, pointing to his door. They heard a snoring on the
other side: the sentinel must have given way to drowsiness, and
laid him down on the ground across the doorway, thinking that
in this way the prisoner could not get out.
“You must run away,” she went on rapidly. “I have come
to implore you to run away, and to say good-by. ”
But he did not seem to hear her. He kept repeating: -
“How - it's you, it's you! - how you frightened me! You
might have killed yourself. ”
He took her hands — he kissed them.
«How I love you, Françoise ! You are as brave as you are
good. I only had one fear,— that of dying without seeing you
once more. But you are here, and now they can shoot me.
When I have had a quarter of an hour with you, I shall be
ready. ”
## p. 16314 (#668) ##########################################
16314
ÉMILE ZOLA
»
(
>
(
(
Little by little he had drawn her closer to him, and she rested
her head upon his shoulder.
remembered his own marriage. Neither had he a red sou, when
he married Madeleine and her mill; but that did not prevent
his making a good husband. Besides, Dominique cut the gossip
short by going to work with such a will that the whole country
marveled at it. It so happened that the miller's boy had just
been drafted; and Dominique would never hear of his hiring
another. He carried the sacks, drove the cart, struggled with
the old wheel when it had to be begged hard before it would
turn; and all with such a will that people would come to look at
him, for sheer pleasure. Old Merlier laughed his quiet laugh.
He was very proud of having scented out this fellow. There is
nothing like love for putting heart into young people.
In the midst of all this hard work, Françoise and Dominique
adored each other. They hardly ever spoke, but they looked at
each other with smiling tenderness. So far, old Merlier had not
said a single word about the marriage; and they both respected
## p. 16301 (#655) ##########################################
ÉMILE ZOLA
16301
this silence, awaiting the old man's pleasure. At last, one day
about the middle of July, he had three tables set out in the
court-yard under the big elm, inviting his friends in Rocreuse
to come and take a drink with him in the evening. When the
court-yard was full, and every one had his glass in his hand, old
Merlier raised his very high, saying: -
« This is for the pleasure of announcing to you that Fran-
çoise will marry that fellow there in a month, on St. Louis's
day. ”
Then they clinked glasses noisily. Everybody laughed. But
old Merlier, raising his voice, went on:-
Dominique, kiss your intended. That must be done. "
And they kissed each other, very red, while the crowd laughed
still louder. It was a real jollification. A small cask was emp-
tied. Then when only the intimate friends were left, they chat-
ted quietly. Night had come,-a starlit and very clear night.
Dominique and Françoise, sitting side by side on a bench, said
nothing. An old peasant spoke of the war the Emperor had
declared with Prussia. All the boys in the village were already
gone. The day before, troops had passed through. There would
be hard knocks going.
“Bah! ” said old Merlier, with a happy man's egoism.
<< Dom-
inique is a foreigner,- he won't go. And if the Prussians come,
he will be here to defend his wife. ”
This notion that the Prussians might come seemed a good
joke. They were to be given an A i thrashing, and it would be
soon over.
“I've seen 'em, I've seen 'em,” the old peasant said over and
over again.
There was a silence. Then they clinked glasses once more.
Françoise and Dominique had heard nothing; they had taken
each other softly by the hand, behind the bench, so that no one
could see them; and it seemed so good that they stayed there,
their eyes lost in the depths of the darkness.
How warm and splendid a night! The village was falling
asleep on both sides of the road, tranquil as a child.
You only
heard from time to time the crowing of some cock, waked too
From the great woods hard by came long breaths that
passed like caresses over the roofs. The meadows with their
black shadows put on a mysterious and secluded majesty, while
all the running waters that gushed forth into the darkness
I
soon.
## p. 16302 (#656) ##########################################
16302
ÉMILE ZOLA
seemed to be the cool and rhythmic breathing of the sleeping
country. At moments the mill-wheel, fast asleep, seemed to be
dreaming, like those old watch-dogs that bark while snoring. It
creaked, it talked all by itself, lulled by the falls of the Morelle,
whose sheet of water gave forth the sustained and musical note
of an organ-pipe. Never had more wide-spread peace fallen over
a happier corner of the earth.
II
Just a month later, day for day, on St. Louis's eve, Ro-
creuse was in dismay. The Prussians had beaten the Emperor,
and were advancing toward the village by forced marches. For
a week past, people passing along the road had announced the
Prussians,—« They are at Lormière; they are at Novelles: ” and
hearing that they were approaching so fast, Rocreuse thought
every morning to see them come down by the Gagny woods.
Still they did not come: this frightened the inhabitants still
more. They would surely fall upon the village at night, and cut
everybody's throat.
The night before, a little before daybreak, there had been an
alarm. The inhabitants had waked up, hearing a great noise
of men
on the road.
The women were just falling on their
knees and crossing themselves, when red trousers were recognized
through cracks of windows prudently opened. It was a detach-
ment of French. The captain immediately asked for the mayor
of the place, and stayed at the mill, after talking with old Mer-
lier.
The sun rose gayly that day. It would be hot at noon. Over
the woods floated a yellow light; while in the distance above the
meadows, rose white vapors. The clean, pretty village awoke in
the cool air; and the country, with its river and springs, had
the dew-sprinkled loveliness of a nosegay. But this fine weather
made no one laugh. They had just seen the captain walk round
about the mill, examine the neighboring houses, cross to the
other side of the Morelle, and from there study the country
through a spyglass; old Merlier, who was with him, seemed to
be explaining the country to him. Then the captain stationed
soldiers behind walls, behind trees, in holes in the ground. The
bulk of the detachment was stationed in the court-yard of the
## p. 16303 (#657) ##########################################
ÉMILE ZOLA
16303
C
(
mill. So there was to be a fight? And when old Merlier came
back, he was plied with questions. He gave a long nod with his
head, without speaking. Yes, there was to be a fight.
Françoise and Dominique were in the court-yard, looking at
him. At last he took his pipe out of his mouth and said sim-
ply:--
"Ah! my poor children, there will be no wedding for you to-
morrow! »
Dominique, his lips set, a line of anger across his forehead,
raised himself up on tiptoe from time to time, with his eyes fixed
on the Gagny woods, as if he longed to see the Prussians come.
Françoise, very pale, serious, came and went, supplying the sol-
diers with what they needed. They were making their soup in
a corner of the court-yard, and joking while waiting for their
meal.
Meanwhile the captain seemed delighted. He had examined
the rooms and the great hall of the mill, looking out upon the
river. Now, sitting by the well, he was talking with old Merlier.
“You have a real fortress here,” said he. “We ought to hold
out till evening. The beggars are late. They should be here by
this time.
The miller looked serious. He saw his mill flaming like a
torch; but he did not complain, thinking it useless.
He only
opened his mouth to say:--
“ You ought to have some one hide the boat behind the wheel.
There is a hole there that will hold her. Perhaps she may be
of use. "
The captain gave an order, This captain was a handsome
man of about forty, tall and with a kindly face. The sight of
Françoise and Dominique seemed to please him. He was inter-
ested in them, as if he had forgotten the coming struggle. He
followed Françoise about with his eyes, and his look told plainly
that he found her charming. Then turning to Dominique:
“So you're not in the army, my boy? ” he asked abruptly.
"I'm a foreigner,” the young man answered.
The captain seemed only half pleased with this reason. He
winked and smiled. Françoise was pleasanter company than can-
non. Then, seeing him smile, Dominique added:-
“I'm a foreigner, but I can put a bullet into an apple at five
hundred metres. — See, my gun's there, behind you. "
>>
(
## p. 16304 (#658) ##########################################
16304
ÉMILE ZOLA
(
was
« It may be of use to you,” the captain replied simply.
Françoise had come up, trembling a little. And without
minding the people there, Dominique took both the hands she
held out to him, and pressed them in his, as if to take her under
his protection. The captain smiled again, but added not a word.
He remained sitting, his sword between his legs, his eyes looking
at vacancy, as if in a dream.
It was already two o'clock. It was growing very hot. There
a dead silence. In the court-yard, under the sheds, the
soldiers had fallen to eating their soup. Not a sound came
from the village, in which the people had barricaded their houses,
doors, and windows. A dog left alone in the road was howling.
From the neighboring woods and meadows, motionless in the
heat, came a far-off voice, long sustained, made up of every sep-
arate breath of air. A cuckoo was singing. Then the silence
spread itself over the country also.
And in this slumbering air a shot suddenly burst forth. The
captain sprang up quickly; the soldiers dropped their plates of
soup, still half full.
In a few seconds every man was at his post
for the fight; the mill was occupied from top to bottom. Yet
the captain, who had gone out upon the road, could make out
nothing: to the right and left the road stretched out, empty and
all white. A second shot was heard, and still nothing, not a
shadow; but on turning round, he espied, over towards Gagny,
between two trees, a light cloudlet of smoke wafted away like
gossamer. The wood was still profoundly quiet.
« The rascals have taken to the forest,” he muttered. (They
know we are here. ”
Then the firing kept up, harder and harder, between the
French soldiers stationed round the mill and the Prussians hidden
behind the trees. The bullets whistled across the Morelle, with-
out occasioning any loss on one side or the other. The shots
were irregular, coming from every bush; and all you saw was
still the little clouds of smoke gently wafted away by the wind,
This lasted for nearly two hours. The officer hummed a tune, as
if indifferent. Françoise and Dominique, who had stayed in
the court-yard, raised themselves up on tiptoe and looked over
the wall. They were particularly interested in watching a little
soldier, stationed on the brink of the Morelle, behind the hulk of
an old boat; he was flat on his belly, watched his chance, fired
## p. 16305 (#659) ##########################################
ÉMILE ZOLA
16305
his shot, then let himself slide down into a ditch a little behind
him, to reload his rifle; and his movements were so droll, so
cunning, so supple, that it made one smile to see him. He must
have espied the head of some Prussian, for he got up quickly
and brought his piece to his shoulder; but before he fired,
he gave a cry, turned over upon himself, and rolled into the
ditch, where his legs stiffened out with the momentary convuls-
ive jerk of those of a chicken with its neck wrung. The little
soldier had received a bullet full in the breast. He was the first
man killed.
Instinctively Françoise seized hold of Dominique's
hand and squeezed it with a nervous grip.
“Don't stay there,” said the captain. « The bullets reach
here. "
As he spoke, a little sharp stroke was heard in the old elm,
and a branch fell in zigzags through the air; but the young peo-
ple did not stir, riveted there by anxiety at the sight. On the
outskirts of the wood, a Prussian came out suddenly from behind
a tree, as from a side scene, beating the air with his arms, and
tumbling over backwards. And then nothing stirred: the two
dead men seemed to sleep in the dazzling sunshine; you saw
one in the torpid landscape. Even the crack of the shots
stopped. Only the Morelle kept up its silver-toned whispering.
Old Merlier looked at the captain in surprise, as if to ask if
it were over.
"Here it comes,” the latter muttered. “Look out! Don't stay
there. "
He had not finished speaking when there came
a terrific
volley. It was as if the great elm were mowed down; a cloud
of leaves whirled about them. Luckily the Prussians had fired
too high. Dominique dragged, almost carried Françoise away;
while old Merlier followed them, crying out:-
«Go down to the little cellar: the walls are solid. ”
But they did not mind him; they went into the great hall
where ten soldiers or so were waiting in silence, with shutters
closed, peeping through the cracks. The captain had stayed
alone in the court-yard, crouched down behind the little wall,
while the furious volleys continued. The soldiers he had sta-
tioned outside yielded ground only foot by foot. Yet they came
in, one by one, crawling on their faces, when the enemy had
dislodged them from their hiding-places. Their orders were to
no
»
XXVI-I020
## p. 16306 (#660) ##########################################
16306
ÉMILE ZOLA
gain time, not to show themselves; so that the Prussians might
not know what numbers they had before them. Another hour
went by; and as a sergeant came up, saying that there were
only two or three men left outside, the officer looked at his
watch, muttering:-
« Half after two. Come, we must hold out four hours. ”
He had the gate of the court-yard shut, and all preparations
were made for an energetic resistance. As the Prussians were
on the other side of the Morelle, an immediate assault was not
to be feared. To be sure, there was a bridge, a little over a
mile off, but they doubtless did not know of its existence; and it
was hardly probable that they would try to ford the river. So
the officer merely had the road watched. The whole effort was
to be made on the side toward the fields,
The firing had once more ceased. The mill seemed dead
beneath the hot sun. Not a shutter was opened, not a sound
came from the inside. Little by little, meanwhile, the Prussians
showed themselves at the outskirts of the Gagny wood. They
stretched forth their heads, grew more daring. In the mill, sev-
eral soldiers had already leveled their rifles, but the captain cried
out:
No, no, wait. Let them come up. ”
They were very cautious about it, looking at the mill with
evident distrust. This old dwelling, silent and dismal, with its
curtains of ivy, made them uneasy. Still they kept advancing.
When there were about fifty of them in the meadow opposite,
the officer said a single word:-
« Fire ! »
A tearing sound was heard, followed by single shots. Fran-
çoise, shaken with a fit of trembling, put her hands up to her
ears, in spite of herself. Dominique, behind the soldiers, looked
on; and when the smoke had blown away a little, he saw three
Prussians stretched on their backs in the middle of the field.
The rest had thrown themselves down behind the willows and
poplars; and the siege began.
For over an hour the mill was riddled with bullets. They
whipped its old walls like hail. When they struck stone, you
beard them flatten out and fall back into the water. Into wood
they penetrated with a hollow sound. Now and then a cracking
told that the wheel had been hit. The soldiers inside husbanded
>
## p. 16307 (#661) ##########################################
ÉMILE ZOLA
16307
>>>
their shots,- fired only when they could take aim. From time to
—
time the captain would look at his watch; and as a ball split a
shutter and then lodged in the ceiling:-
Four o'clock,” he muttered. « We shall never hold out. "
It was true: this terrible firing of musketry was shivering
the old mill. A shutter fell into the water, riddled like a piece
of lace, and had to be replaced by a mattress. Old Merlier
exposed himself every moment, to make sure of the injury done
to his poor wheel, whose cracking went to his heart. It was all
over with it this time: never would he be able to repair it.
Dominique had implored Françoise to go, but she would stay
with him; she had sat down behind a great oak clothes-press, the
sides of which gave out a deep sound. Then Dominique placed
himself in front of Françoise. He had not fired yet; he held his
gun in his hands, not being able to get up to the windows, whose
entire width was taken up by the soldiers. At every discharge
the floor shook.
"Look out! look out! ” the captain cried of a sudden.
'He had just seen a whole black mass come out from the
wood.
Immediately a formidable platoon fire was opened. It
was as if a waterspout had passed over the mill. Another shut-
ter gave way; and by the gaping opening of the window the
bullets came in. Two soldiers rolled upon the floor. One did
not move; they pushed him up against the wall, because he was
The other squirmed on the ground, begging them
to make an end of him; but no one minded him: the balls kept
coming in; every one shielded himself, and tried to find a loop-
hole to fire back through. A third soldier was wounded; he said
not a word, he let himself slide down by the edge of a table,
with fixed and haggard eyes. Opposite the dead men, Fran-
çoise, seized with horror, had pushed her chair aside mechanically,
to sit down on the ground next the wall; she felt smaller there,
and in less danger. Meanwhile they had gone after all the mat-
tresses in the house, and had half stopped up the window. The
hall was getting filled with rubbish, with broken weapons, with
gutted furniture.
“Five o'clock," said the captain. « Keep it up.
They are
going to try to cross the water. »
At this instant Françoise gave a shriek. A rebounding ball
had just grazed her forehead. A few drops of blood appeared.
Dominique looked at her; then stepping up to the window, he
in the way.
>>
## p. 16308 (#662) ##########################################
16308
ÉMILE ZOLA
fired his first shot, and kept on firing. He loaded, fired, without
paying any attention to what was going on near him; only from
time to time he would give Françoise a look. For the rest, he
did not hurry himself, - took careful aim. The Prussians, creep-
ing along by the poplars, were attempting the passage of the
Morelle, as the captain had foreseen; but as soon as one of
them risked showing himself, he would fall, hit in the head by a
ball from Dominique. The captain who followed this game was
astonished. He complimented the young man, saying that he
would be glad to have a lot of marksmen like him. Dominique
did not hear him. A ball cut his shoulder, another bruised his
arm; and he kept on firing.
There were two more men killed. The mattresses, all slashed
to bits, no longer stopped up the windows. A last volley seemed
as if it would carry away the mill. The position was no longer
tenable. Still the officer repeated:-
« Stick to it. Half an hour more. ”
Now he counted the minutes. He had promised his superior
officers to hold the enemy there until evening, and would not
draw back a sole's breadth before the time he had set for the
retreat. He still had his gracious manner; smiling at Françoise,
to reassure her. He himself had just picked up a dead soldier's
rifle, and was firing.
There were only four soldiers left in the hall. The Prussians
showed themselves in a body on the other bank of the Morelle,
and it was evident that they might cross the river at any time.
A few minutes more elapsed. The captain stuck to it obsti-
nately, and would not give the order to retreat; when a sergeant
came running up saying: -
« They are on the road: they are going to take us in the
rear. »
The Prussians must have found the bridge. The captain
pulled out his watch.
“Five minutes more,” said he. “They won't be here for five
minutes. »
Then at the stroke of six, he at last consented to order his
men out by a little door opening upon an alley-way. From there
they threw themselves into a ditch; they reached the Sauval for-
est. Before going, the captain saluted old Merlier very politely,
excusing himself; and he even added:
“Make them lose time. We shall be back again. ”
## p. 16309 (#663) ##########################################
ÉMILE ZOLA
16309
Meanwhile Dominique stayed on in the hall. He still kept
firing, hearing nothing, understanding nothing. He only felt
that he must defend Françoise. The soldiers were gone, without
his suspecting it the least in the world. He took aim and killed
his man at every shot. Suddenly there was a loud noise. The
Prussians, from the rear, had just overrun the court-yard. He
fired his last shot, and they fell upon him as his piece was still
smoking.
Four men held him. Others shouted round him in a fright-
ful language. They all-but cut his throat off-hand. Françoise
threw herself before him in supplication; but an officer came in
and took charge of the prisoner. After a few sentences ex-
changed in German with the soldiers, he turned to Dominique
and said roughly, and in very good French:-
“You will be shot in two hours. »
>>>
III
It was a rule made by the German staff: every Frenchman
not belonging to the regular army, and taken with arms in his
hands, should be shot. Even the guerrilla companies were not
recognized as belligerents. By thus making terrible examples
of the peasants who defended their own firesides, the Germans
wished to prevent the uprising of the whole country en masse,
which they dreaded.
The officer, a tall lean man of about fifty, put Dominique
through a brief examination. Although he spoke very pure
French, he had quite the Prussian stiffness.
“ You belong in these parts ? ”
“No, I am a Belgian. ”
“Why have you taken up arms? All this can't be any of
your business. »
Dominique did not answer. At this moment the officer caught
sight of Françoise, standing upright and very pale, listening; her
slight wound put a red bar across her white forehead. He looked
at the young people, one after the other, seemed to understand,
and contented himself with adding: -
« You don't deny that you were firing ? ”
"I fired as long as I was able,” Dominique answered quietly.
This confession was needless; for he was black with powder,
covered with sweat, spotted with some drops of blood that had
run down from the scratch on his shoulder.
## p. 16310 (#664) ##########################################
16310
ÉMILE ZOLA
>>
a
“Very well,” the officer repeated. « You will be shot in two
hours. ”
Françoise did not cry out. She clasped her hands together,
and raised them in a gesture of mute despair. The officer noticed
this gesture. Two soldiers had led Dominique away into the next
room, where they were to keep him in sight. The young girl
had dropped down upon a chair, her legs giving way under her;
she could not cry, she was choking. Meanwhile the officer kept
looking at her closely. At last he spoke to her.
“That young man is your brother? he asked.
She shook her head. He stood there stiff, without a smile.
Then after a silence:
«He has lived a long while in these parts ? ”
She nodded yes, still dumb.
« Then he must know the woods round here very well ? »
This time she spoke.
“Yes, sir,” she said, looking at him in some surprise.
He said no more, and turned on his heel, asking to have the
mayor of the village brought to him. But Françoise had risen, a
faint flush on her face, thinking to have caught the drift of his
questions, and seeing fresh hope in them. It was she who ran to
find her father.
Old Merlier, as soon as the shots had ceased, had run quickly
down the wooden steps to look at his wheel. He adored his
daughter, he had a stout friendship for Dominique, his intended
son-in-law; but his wheel also held a large place in his heart.
As the two young ones, as he called them, had come safe and
sound out of the scrimmage, he thought of his other love, and
this one had suffered grievously. And bending over the huge
wooden carcass, he investigated its wounds, the picture of distress.
Five paddles were in splinters, the central framework was rid-
dled. He stuck his fingers into the bullet-holes to measure their
depth; he thought over how he could repair all this damage.
Françoise found him already stopping up cracks with broken bits
of wood and moss.
Father,” she said, "you are wanted. ”
And at last she wept, telling him what she had just heard.
Old Merlier shook his head. You didn't shoot people that way.
He must see. And he went back into the mill with his silent,
pacific air.
When the officer asked him for victuals for his men,
he answered that the people in Rocreuse were not accustomed
to being bullied, and that nothing would be got from them by
## p. 16311 (#665) ##########################################
ÉMILE ZOLA
16311
»
violence. He took everything upon himself, but on the condition
of being allowed to act alone. The officer showed signs, at first,
of getting angry at this cool manner; then he gave in to the old
man's curt and business-like way of talking. He even called him
back to ask him :-
“What do you call those woods there, opposite ? ”
« The Sauval woods. "
"And what is their extent ? »
The miller looked at him fixedly.
“I don't know,” he answered.
And he walked away. An hour later, the contribution of
victuals and money required by the officer were in the court-
yard of the mill. Night was approaching; Françoise followed
the soldiers' movements anxiously. She did not go far from the
room in which Dominique was shut up. At about seven she
had a poignant emotion: she saw the officer go into the prison-
er's room, and for a quarter of an hour she heard their voices
raised. One instant the officer reappeared on the threshold, to
give an order in German, which she did not understand: but
when twelve men came and fell into line in the court-yard with
their muskets, she fell a-trembling; she felt ready to die. So it
was all over: the execution was to take place. The twelve men
waited there ten minutes. Dominique's voice was still raised
in a violent refusal. At last the officer came out, slamming the
door and saying: -
“Very well; think it over. I give you till to-morrow morn-
ing. ”
And with a motion of his arm, he ordered the twelve men to
break ranks. Françoise stayed on in a sort of stupor. Old Mer-
lier, who had not stopped smoking his pipe, while looking at the
squad with an air of simple curiosity, came up and took her by
the arm with fatherly gentleness. He led her to her room.
"Keep quiet,” he said; «try to sleep. To-morrow it will be
“
daylight, and we will see. ”
When he withdrew he locked her in, for prudence's sake. It
was a principle of his that women were no good, and that they
made a mess of it whenever they undertook anything serious.
But Françoise did not go to bed: she stayed a long time sitting
on her bed, listening to the noises in the house. The German
soldiers, encamped in the court-yard, were singing and laughing:
they must have been eating and drinking up to eleven, for the
»
## p. 16312 (#666) ##########################################
16312
ÉMILE ZOLA
noise did not stop for an instant. In the mill itself, heavy steps
sounded every now and then: no doubt they were relieving sen-
tries. But what interested her above all were noises that she
could not make out, in the room under hers. Several times
she lay down on the ground; she put her ear to the floor. This
room happened to be the one in which Dominique was locked
up. He must have been walking from the wall to the window,
for she long heard the cadence of his steps: then there was a
dead silence; he had doubtless sat down. Besides, the noises
stopped; everything was hushed in sleep. When the house
seemed to her to slumber, she opened the window as softly as
possible, and rested her elbows on the sill.
Outside the night was calm and warm.
The slender crescent
moon, setting behind the Sauval woods, lighted up the country
with the glimmer of a night-taper. The elongated shadows of
the great trees barred the meadows with black; while the grass,
in the unshaded spots, put on the softness of greenish velvet.
But Françoise did not stop to note the mysterious charm of the
night. She examined the country, looking for the sentinels that
the Germans must have stationed on one side. She plainly saw
their shadows, ranged like rungs of a ladder along the Morelle.
Only a single one stood opposite the mill, on the other side of
the river, near a willow whose branches dipped into the water.
Françoise saw him distinctly: he was a big fellow, standing
motionless, his face turned toward the sky with the dreamy look
of a shepherd.
Then when she had carefully inspected the ground, she went
back and sat down upon her bed. She stayed there an hour,
deeply absorbed. Then she listened again: in the house not a
breath stirred. She went back to the window, and looked out;
but no doubt she saw danger in one of the horns of the moon,
which still appeared behind the trees, for she went back again
to wait. At last the time seemed to have come. The night was
quite dark: she no longer saw the sentinel opposite; the country
lay spread out like a pool of ink. She listened intently for a
moment, and made up her mind. An iron ladder ran near the
window,- some bars let into the wall, leading from the wheel up
to the loft, down which the millers used to climb to get at cer-
tain cog-wheels; then when the machinery had been altered, the
ladder had long since disappeared beneath the rank growth of
ivy that covered that side of the mill.
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Françoise bravely climbed over the balustrade of her window,
grasped one of the iron bars, and found herself in empty space.
She began to climb down. Her skirts were much in her way.
Suddenly a stone broke loose from the masonry, and fell into
the Morelle with a resounding splash. She stopped, chilled with
a shudder. But she saw that the waterfall, with its continuous
roar, drowned out from afar any noise she might make; and she
climbed down more boldly, feeling for the ivy with her foot,
making sure of the rungs of the ladder. When she had got on
a level with the room that was used as Dominique's prison, she
stopped. An unforeseen difficulty nearly made her lose all her
courage: the window of the room below was not cut regularly,
under the window of her chamber; it was some way from the
ladder, and when she stretched out her hand she felt only the
wall. Would she have to climb up again, without carrying her
plan through to the end ? Her arms were getting tired; the mur-
mur of the Morelle beneath her began to make her dizzy. Then
she tore off little bits of mortar from the wall, barking her fin-
gers. And her strength was giving out: she felt herself falling
backwards, when Dominique, at last, softly opened his window.
“It's I,” she whispered. « Take me quick, - I'm falling. ”
It was the first time she had tutoyéed him. He caught her,
leaning out, and lifted her into the room. There she had a fit
of tears, stilling her sobs so as not to be heard. Then by a
supreme effort she calmed herself.
“ You are guarded ? ” she asked in a low voice.
Dominique, still dumbfounded at seeing her thus, made a
simple sign, pointing to his door. They heard a snoring on the
other side: the sentinel must have given way to drowsiness, and
laid him down on the ground across the doorway, thinking that
in this way the prisoner could not get out.
“You must run away,” she went on rapidly. “I have come
to implore you to run away, and to say good-by. ”
But he did not seem to hear her. He kept repeating: -
“How - it's you, it's you! - how you frightened me! You
might have killed yourself. ”
He took her hands — he kissed them.
«How I love you, Françoise ! You are as brave as you are
good. I only had one fear,— that of dying without seeing you
once more. But you are here, and now they can shoot me.
When I have had a quarter of an hour with you, I shall be
ready. ”
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Little by little he had drawn her closer to him, and she rested
her head upon his shoulder.
