The Debacle - Emile Zola [210]
‘Look here,’ he whispered to Jean who was walking at his side, ‘we’ll wait until we’re going past some wood and then jump into the trees. The Belgian frontier isn’t far away, and we are sure to find someone to take us there.’
Jean, whose mind was cooler and clearer, recoiled at the idea in spite of the feeling of revolt that was making him, too, think about escape.
‘Are you crazy? They’ll shoot us, and there we’ll both stay.’
But Maurice pointed out that there was a chance of the bullets going wide, and after all, if they were shot, well, that would be that!
‘All right,’ Jean went on, ‘but what would happen to us then, in our uniforms? You can see perfectly well that the whole place is full of Prussian outposts. At any rate we should have to have different clothes… It’s too dangerous, lad, and I’ll never let you do anything so barmy.’
He had to hold him back, take a grip of his arm and keep it close to him as though they were holding each other up, while he went on calming him down in his rough and ready but affectionate way.
Some whispering behind their backs just then made them look round. It was Chouteau and Loubet, who had got away from Iges that morning at the same time as themselves, and whom so far they had avoided. Now these two gentry were treading on their heels. Chouteau must have overheard Maurice’s words, with his plan to escape through a wood, for he took it up himself and murmured into their ears:
‘Look here, we’re in on this. It’s a grand idea to fuck off. Some of the blokes have got away already, and we’re certainly not going to let ourselves be dragged like a lot of dogs to the country of those bastards… So what about it for the four of us – O.K. to go for a stroll and take the air?’
Maurice was getting excited again, and Jean had to turn round and say to the tempter:
‘If you’re in a hurry, run along… What hopes do you think you’ve got?’
Chouteau was a bit put out by the straight look Jean gave him. He let out the real reason for his insistence.
‘Well, if there were four of us it would be easier… Then one or two would be sure to get away.’
So with a firm shake of the head Jean turned it down altogether. He didn’t trust that gentleman, as he always said, and was afraid of some dirty trick. He had to use all his authority over Maurice to stop him from giving in because there was an obvious chance just then as they were passing a very dense wood, with only one field full of gorse between it and the road. Did not salvation consist in running across that field and disappearing in the thicket?
So far Loubet had said nothing. His twitching nose was testing the wind, his keen, artful eyes were watching out for the right moment, in his clear determination not to go and moulder in Germany. He would have to trust to his legs and his cunning, which had always got him out of scrapes. He suddenly made up his mind.
‘Fuck it, I’ve had enough! I’m off!’
He leaped with one bound into the field and Chouteau imitated him, running at his side. Two of the escorting Prussians at once gave chase, but neither thought of stopping them with a bullet. The scene was so brief that they hardly took it in. Loubet, zigzagging through the gorse, was certainly going to get away, but Chouteau, who was not so agile, was already on the point of being