Part 14 (2/2)
”You are the bravest, sweetest--”
”Dear me! You must not say that! You are sadly uneducated, and I see I must take you under my control at once. Man is born to obey! I have decided about your answer to the _Herald's_ telegram.”
”May I know the result?” he asked, laughingly.
”To-morrow. There is a brook-lily on the border of the sedge-gra.s.s.
You may bring it to me.”
So began the education of Jack Marche--under the yoke. And Lorraine's education began, too--but she was sublimely unconscious of that fact.
This also is a law in the world.
IX
SAARBRuCK
On the first day of August, late in the afternoon, a peasant driving an exhausted horse pulled up at the Chateau Morteyn, where Jack Marche stood on the terrace, smoking and cutting at leaves with his riding-crop.
”What's the matter, Pa.s.serat?” asked Jack, good-humouredly; ”are the Prussians in the valley?”
”You are right, Monsieur Marche--the Prussians have crossed the Saar!” blurted out the man. His face was agitated, and he wiped the sweat from his cheeks with the sleeve of his blouse.
”Nonsense!” said Jack, sharply.
”Monsieur--I saw them! They chased me--the Uhlans with their spears and devilish yellow horses.”
”Where?” demanded Jack, with an incredulous shrug.
”I had been to Forbach, where my cousin Pa.s.serat is a miner in the coal-mines. This morning I left to drive to Saint-Lys, having in my wagon these sacks of coal that my cousin Pa.s.serat procured for me, a prix reduit. It would take all day; I did not care--I had bread and red wine--you understand, my cousin Pa.s.serat and I, we had been gay in Saint-Avold, too--dame! we see each other seldom. I may have had more eau-de-vie than another--it is permitted on fete-days! Monsieur, I was tired--I possibly slept--the road was hot. Then something awakes me; I rub my eyes--behold me awake!--staring dumfounded at what? Parbleu!--at two ugly Uhlans sitting on their yellow horses on a hill! 'No!
no!' I cry to myself; 'it is impossible!' It is a bad dream! Dieu de Dieu! It is no dream! My Uhlans come galloping down the hill; I hear them bawling 'Halt! Wer da!' It is terrible! 'Pa.s.serat!' I shriek, 'it is the hour to vanis.h.!.+'”
The man paused, overcome by emotions and eau-de-vie.
”Well,” said Jack, ”go on!”
”And I am here, monsieur,” ended the peasant, hazily.
”Pa.s.serat, you said you had taken too much eau-de-vie?” suggested Jack, with a smile of encouragement.
”Much? Monsieur, you do not believe me?”
”I believe you had a dream.”
”Bon,” said the peasant, ”I want no more such dreams.”
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