And the other began to sob.
When a man has been knocked down, torn to tatters, beaten till he cannot stand, when he knows that the law is against him, that he must die without seeing those whom he loves, he becomes as weak as a baby. Those who maltreat their prisoners are great villains.
"Let us see!" said Burguet. "Sit down on the side of your camp-bed. What is your name? Where did you come from? Harmantier, give this man a little water to drink and wash himself!"
"He has some, M. Burguet; he has some in the corner."
"Ah, well!"
"Compose yourself, my boy!"
The more gently he spoke, the more did the poor fellow weep. At last, however, he said that his family lived near Gérarmer, in the Vosges; that his father's name was Mathieu Belin, and that he was a fisherman at Retournemer.
Burguet drew every word out of his mouth; he wanted to know every particular about his father and mother, his brothers and sisters.
I remember that his father had served under the Republic, and had even been wounded at Fleurus; that his oldest brother had died in Russia; that he himself was the second son taken from home by the conscription, and that there was still at home three sisters younger than himself.
This came from him slowly; he was so prostrated by Winter's blows, that he moved and sank down like a soulless body.