At this moment a door was gaily opened, and Gilberte came in with her hand outstretched. Delaherche must have informed her that the captain was there, for as a rule she was never out of bed before ten o'clock. She was tall and seemingly strong and supple, with beautiful black hair, beautiful black eyes, a rosy complexion, and smiling mien; hers was a somewhat giddy nature no doubt, but evidently there was not a grain of malice in her composition. She wore a beige morning wrapper embroidered with purple silk, which had undoubtedly come from Paris. 'Ah! captain,' she said eagerly, as she shook hands with the young man, 'how kind of you to have paid a visit to our poor little nook in the provinces.' Then, the first to laugh at her own thoughtlessness, she added: 'Ah! what a stupid I am! Of course you would rather not be at Sedan under such sad circumstances. But I am so pleased to see you again.'
Her eyes, indeed, were sparkling with pleasure, and Madame Delaherche, senior, who was doubtless acquainted with the Charleville tittle-tattle, gazed fixedly at both of them with a rigid air. The captain behaved very discreetly, however, as though simply retaining a pleasant recollection of an hospitable house where in past times he had been cordially welcomed.
They sat down to breakfast, and Delaherche immediately reverted to his excursion of the previous day, unable to resist the desire that possessed him to relate his adventures once more. 'I saw the Emperor at Baybel,' he began, and, thus started, nothing could stop him. First came a description of the farm, a large square building, with an inner court inclosed by iron railings, and perched on a hillock overlooking Mouzon, on the left of the road leading to Carignan. Then he reverted to the Twelfth Army Corps, through which he had passed whilst it was camping among the vines on the slopes. Superb troops were these, looking quite brilliant in the sunshine, and the sight of them had filled his heart with patriotic delight.
'Well,' he continued, 'I was standing there, when all at once the Emperor came out of the farm—he had halted there to rest and breakfast. Although the sun was very hot, he wore an overcoat over his general's uniform. There was a servant walking behind him with a camp stool. Ah! he didn't look at all well, no, that he didn't; he was quite bent, and walked as if in pain; his face was yellow, too—altogether he seemed very ill. But I wasn't surprised at it, for when the chemist at Mouzon suggested to me that I ought go on to Baybel, he told me that one of the imperial aides-de-camp had just been to him for some medicine for——you understand what I mean——' The presence of his mother and his wife prevented him from referring more explicitly to the dysentery from which the Emperor had been suffering since his departure from Le Chêne, and which had constantly compelled him to halt at the farms scattered along his route. 'Well,' continued Delaherche, 'the servant opened the camp-stool at the end of a cornfield, near a plantation, and then the Emperor sat down. He sat there stock still, half crouching, like some petty cit warming his rheumatics in the sunshine. And those mournful eyes of his wandered all over the horizon—there was the Meuse flowing through the valley down below; wooded hills stretched far away in front of him; there were the crests of the woods of Dieulet on the left, and the green hills of Sommauthe rising up on the right. Several aides-de-camp and officers of high rank gathered round him, and a colonel of Dragoons—who, a little while before, had asked me for some information about the district—had just made me a sign not to go away, when, all at once——'
At this point Delaherche rose up, for he was coming to the dramatic part of his narrative, and wished to enforce his words with pantomime. 'All at once,' he continued, 'I heard several loud reports, and, right in front of me, just in advance of the woods of Dieulet, I saw some shells describing curves in the air. 'Pon my word it was just like fireworks let off in broad daylight. I heard a lot of exclamations among the Emperor's party. Naturally they all seemed very anxious. The colonel of Dragoons whom I mentioned just now came running up to me again, and asked me if I could tell where the fighting was going on. I answered at once: "It's at Beaumont; there's not the least doubt about it." Then he went back to the Emperor, on whose knees an aide-de-camp was unfolding a map. The Emperor, however, wouldn't believe that the fighting was at Beaumont. But, of course, I could only repeat what I had said, especially as one could see the shells careering through the air, coming nearer and nearer, right along the road to Mouzon. Then, just as I see you, captain, I saw the Emperor turn his pale face towards me. Yes, he looked at me for a moment with those dim eyes of his, full of distrust and sadness. And then he let his head drop over his map once more, and didn't move again.'
Delaherche, an ardent Bonapartist at the time of the Plebiscitum, had been willing to admit since the earlier reverses that the Empire had erred in various ways. But he still defended the dynasty and pitied Napoleon III., whom everybody deceived. According to him the people, who were really responsible for the disasters of France, were the deputies of the Republican Opposition, who had prevented the Legislature from voting the necessary men and credits.
'And the Emperor went back to the farm?' asked Captain Beaudoin.
'Well, I really don't know; I left him sitting on the camp-stool. It was midday, and the battle was coming nearer and nearer, and I had begun to feel anxious about getting home again. The only thing I can add is that a general to whom I pointed out Carignan some way off in the plain behind us, appeared thunderstruck when I told him that the Belgian frontier was only a few miles away. Ah! that poor Emperor, he has some nice generals, and no mistake.'
Whilst her husband was discoursing in this fashion, Gilberte, smiling, and as much at her ease as though she were still a widow in her drawing-room at Charleville, was busy attending to the captain's requirements, passing him the toast, the butter, and whatever else he needed. She pressed him to accept a room and go to bed, but he declined this, and it was arranged that he should merely take a couple of hours' rest on a sofa, in Delaherche's study, before rejoining his regiment. Just as he was taking the sugar basin from Gilberte's hands, old Madame Delaherche, who kept her eyes fixed on the young couple, distinctly saw them press each other's finger-tips; and after that she no longer had any doubts.
Just then, however, a servant entered the room: 'There's a soldier downstairs, sir, who is asking for Monsieur Weiss's address.'