Then, as he did not belong to that district, and could not give any information, he pointed out a little farmhouse, near by, where he had seen some people a short time before. Prosper thanked him and was going off to join Silvine again, when he caught sight of a chassepot half buried in a furrow. His first thought was to say nothing about it, but all at once he retraced his steps, and despite himself exclaimed: 'Hi! there's one here, that will make five sous more for you.'
As they drew near to the farm, Silvine noticed some other peasants who were digging a long trench with picks and spades. These were immediately under the orders of German officers, who, with nothing more formidable than switches in their hands, stood by, stiff and silent, watching the work. The inhabitants of all the surrounding villages had in this way been requisitioned to bury the dead; for it was feared that the rainy weather would hasten the mortification of the corpses. Near the trench were two carts laden with dead bodies, which a gang of men was removing and swiftly depositing in the cavity, placing them side by side in serried array, and without troubling to search their garments or even to look at their faces. And in the rear of the first party three other men, provided with large shovels, were covering the row of corpses with a layer of earth, so thin and scanty, however, that it was already cracking under the action of the rain. So hastily and carelessly was the work done, indeed, that before a fortnight was over a pestilence would be rising from every chink. Silvine could not resist halting beside the trench and gazing at the poor wretches who were laid in it. She was shuddering with a horrible fear, an idea that she recognised Honoré in each blood-smeared face that her eyes fell upon. Was not that he—that unfortunate fellow who had lost his left eye, or that other one, perhaps, with the broken jaw? If she did not speedily find him on that endless, indefinite plateau, he would assuredly be taken from her beyond power of recovery, and buried all of a heap with the others. Accordingly she ran off to join Prosper, who had gone on to the farm-gate with the donkey: 'Good Lord, where is it, then? Ask, question the people!'
Apart, however, from a servant-woman and her child who had made their way back from the woods, where they had almost perished of hunger and thirst, there were only some Prussian soldiers at the farm. It was a nook suggestive of patriarchal simplicity, of honest rest following upon the fatigues of the past few days. Some of the Germans were carefully brushing their tunics, which they had hung on the clothes-lines. Another, skilful with his needle, had almost finished darning a hole in his trousers; whilst in the middle of the courtyard the cook of the party had lighted a large fire, on which the evening repast was boiling in a huge pot, which exhaled a pleasant smell of bacon and cabbage. The conquest was already being organised with perfect tranquillity and discipline. These men, smoking their long pipes, might have passed for peaceful civilians who had just returned home. On a bench at the door a brawny, carroty-haired fellow had taken the servant's child—a little chap of five or six—in his arms, and was dandling him playfully, speaking German words of endearment to him, vastly amused to see the urchin laugh at this harsh-syllabled foreign language which he did not understand.
Prosper, however, at once turned his back upon the farm for fear of some fresh mishap. But these Prussians were evidently good-natured fellows; they smiled at sight of the little moke, and did not even trouble to ask for the laissez-passer.
Then came a wild march. On the sun appearing for a moment between two clouds they saw that it was already low on the horizon. Would night fall and surprise them in that endless charnel-place? Then a fresh shower obscured the sun, and all around them there remained but the pale infinitude of rain, a fine spray which blotted out everything, the roads, the fields, and the trees. The donkey was still trotting at the same slow pace behind them, carrying his head low, and dragging the little cart along with the resigned gait of a docile animal. They went northward, they came back towards Sedan, no longer knowing what direction they were taking; and twice they retraced their steps on recognising certain spots which they had previously passed. They were doubtless going round and round; and at last, overcome by despair and exhaustion, they halted at a crossway where three roads met, and stood there in the pelting downpour, lacking both strength of mind and body to pursue their search any farther.
To their surprise, however, they suddenly heard some groans, and on trudging as far as a lonely cottage, on their left, they found two wounded men lying in a room. All the doors were open, and these men had seen nobody, not a soul, during the two days that they had been lying there, shivering with fever, and without even having their wounds dressed. Thirst was consuming them, torturing them the more acutely as the rain was streaming all around them, and they could hear it pattering loudly on the window-panes. Neither could move, and both at once raised a cry of 'Water! water!' that distressful, longing cry with which the wounded always pursue the passer-by whenever the faintest sound of steps rouses them from their lethargy.
When Silvine had brought them some water, Prosper, who in the more severely wounded of the two men had recognised a comrade, a Chasseur d'Afrique of his own regiment, realised that they could not be far from the ground over which Margueritte's division had charged. He questioned the poor fellow, who, with a vague wave of the arm, ended by answering affirmatively, 'It was over yonder, on the left, after passing a large field of lucern.' Provided with this information, Silvine wished to start off again at once. Some men were passing, picking up the dead, and having called to them in order that they might come to succour the two wounded soldiers, she took hold of the donkey's bridle and began dragging the animal over the slippery ground, all eagerness to make her way yonder past that field of lucern.
All at once Prosper halted. 'It must be hereabouts. Look! there are the three trees on the right. Do you see the ruts too? And yonder there's a broken caisson. We've reached the spot at last.'
Quivering from head to foot, Silvine darted forward and examined two corpses, two artillerymen who had fallen by the wayside. 'But he's not here, he's not here!' she exclaimed. 'You must have made a mistake. Yes, you must have fancied it, your eyes must have deceived you.'