All at once the sight of the cottages of Graufthal aroused me from my dreams; I shivered at the thought that the moment was come to speak, to tell my daughter and the grandmother that I was banished, driven away from the country. It seemed to me like a sentence of death that I myself was about to pronounce against those whom I loved best in the world. I slackened my steps so as not to arrive too quickly, when, raising my eyes, after having passed the first houses, I saw Marie-Rose waiting in the dark little entry of the inn; my first glance at her told me that she knew all.
"Well, father?" said she in a low voice, as she stood on the threshold.
"Well," I answered, trying to be calm, "I must go. But you two can stay—they have granted you permission to stay."
At the same time I heard the grandmother moaning up stairs in her bed. Katel, that morning, directly after I set out, had gone up stairs to tell my daughter the bad news; the poor old woman had heard all. The news had already spread through the village; the people round us were listening; and, seeing that the blow had fallen, I told all who wished to hear how the Prussian commander had received me. The crowd of neighbours listened to me without a word; all were afraid of sharing my fate. The grandmother had heard my voice, and she called me:
"Frederick! Frederick!"
When I heard her voice, a cold perspiration broke out on my face. I went up stairs, answering:
"Here I am, grandmother, here I am! Don't cry so! It will not last long. I will come back! Now they distrust me. They are wrong, grandmother; but the others are the strongest!"
"Ah!" she cried, "you are going away, Frederick—you are going away like poor Jean. I knew that he had gone away to fight. I knew all. I will never see either of you again."
"Why not, grandmother, why not? In a few weeks I will be allowed to come back, and Jean will come back, too, after the war!"
"I will never see you again!" she cried.