way through the wagons; I see again funeral carriages, followed by dead bodies of young men which we buried in the frozen ground, saying to ourselves that tomorrow would be our turn; I see again, near the cannon carriages, large carcasses of horses dismembered by howitzer shells, stiff, cut up, over which we used to quarrel in the evening, from which we used to carry away, into our tents, bleeding portions which we devoured growling, showing our teeth like wolves! . . . And I see again the surgeon, with sleeves of his white coat rolled up, pipe in mouth, amputating on a table, in a farmhouse, by the smoky light of a tallow candle, the foot of a little soldier still wearing his coarse shoes! . . . But above all I see again the Priory, when worn out and broken in body and spirit by these sufferings, rendered apathetic by the disaster of defeat I re-entered it one nice and sunny day. . . . The windows of the large house were closed, the window blinds were down in every room. . . . Felix, more bent than ever, was cleaning the walk and Marie, seated near the kitchen door, was knitting a pair of stockings, wagging her head.
"Well! Well!" I shouted, "is that the way you receive me!"
As soon as the two noticed me, Felix went away as if frightened and Marie growing pale, uttered a cry.
"What's the matter?" I asked with a heavy heart. "How about father?"
The old woman looked at me fixedly.
"Why, don't you know? . . . Haven't you received anything? . . . Ah, my poor Monsieur Jean! My poor Monsieur Jean!"
And with eyes filled with tears, she stretched out her arms in the direction of the cemetery.
"Yes! Yes! There is where he is now, with Madame," she said in a dull voice.
