The Debacle - Emile Zola [94]
But then he too smiled and took up Weiss’s phrase.
‘But then, who knows?’
Once again the morbid exaggeration of his highly strung nature made him give in to unquenchable illusion and a need for deliberate blindness.
‘By the way,’ he went on gaily, ‘what about cousin Gunther?’
‘Cousin Gunther?’ said Henriette. ‘But he belongs to the Prussian Guard… Are they in these parts?’
Weiss made a gesture of ignorance, and so did the two soldiers, who couldn’t say, since even the generals themselves had no idea what enemy forces they had opposite them.
‘Let’s be off, I’ll show you the way,’ he said. ‘I found out just now where the 106th is camping.’
Then he told his wife that he would not come back, but go and sleep at Bazeilles. He had recently bought a cottage there that he had just made ready for them to use until the cold weather began. It was next door to a dyeworks belonging to Monsieur Delaherche. He was worried about the provisions he had already stored in the cellar, a cask of wine, two sacks of potatoes, and was sure, he said, that marauders would loot the place if it stayed empty, but he would probably keep it safe if he slept in it that night. While he was talking his wife looked him straight in the eyes.
‘Don’t you worry,’ he went on with a smile, ‘all I want to do is to keep an eye on our few sticks of furniture. I promise you that if the village is attacked or there is the slightest danger I shall come back at once.’
‘You go,’ she said. ‘But come back or else I shall come and fetch you!’
As they were leaving Henriette kissed Maurice tenderly. Then she put out her hand to Jean and held his in her own for a few seconds, in a friendly grip.
‘I am putting my brother in your charge again. Yes, he has told me how good you have been to him and I love you for it!’
He was so embarrassed that all he could do was squeeze her strong little hand in return. Once again he felt the impression he had had when they first came, of Henriette with hair like ripe corn and so blithe and gay in her unobtrusive way that she filled the air round her with a kind of caress.
Down below they were back in the dark Sedan of the morning. Already the narrow streets were melting into the dusk, and the roadways were cluttered up with mysterious activity. Most of the shops were shut, and houses seemed dead, whereas out in the open there was an appalling crush. But still they had managed without too much difficulty to get to the Place de l’Hôtel de Ville when they ran into Delaherche, who was wandering about to see what he could see. He at once exclaimed how delighted he was to see Maurice, told them how he had just taken Captain Beaudoin back to Floing where his regiment was, and his usual self-satisfaction increased when he heard that Weiss was going to sleep out at Bazeilles, for as he had just told the captain, he had made up his mind to spend the night there at his dyeworks, just to keep an eye on things.
‘Weiss, we’ll go there together, but first let us go down to the Sub-Prefecture where we might catch a glimpse of the Emperor.’
Ever since he had nearly spoken to him at the Baybel farmhouse, he could think of nothing but Napoleon III, and eventually he roped in the two soldiers as well. Only a few groups of people were standing about on the Place de la Sous-Préfecture and talking softly to each other, but scared-looking officers dashed through every few minutes. The colour of the trees was already fading into a dreary shadow, and to the right the sound of the Meuse could be heard as it flowed noisily past the buildings. In the crowd it was being said that the Emperor, who had decided to leave Carignan much against his will at eleven o’clock on the night before, had absolutely refused to push on as far as Mézières, because he wanted to stay in the danger zone and not demoralize the troops. Others said that he was no longer there but had fled, leaving by way of a substitute one of his lieutenants wearing his uniform, whose striking