But there was comfort in this thought; "Moses, your two boys, Itzig and Frômel, are in America far from the reach of cannon; they are there with their packs on their shoulders, going from village to village without danger. And your daughter Zeffen, too, may sleep in quiet; Baruch has two fine children, and will have another every year while the war lasts. He will sell leather to make bags and shoes for those who have to go, but, for his part, he will stay at home."
I smiled as I thought that I was too old to be conscripted, that I was a gray-head, and the conscriptors could have none of us. Yes; I smiled as I saw that I had acted very wisely in everything, and that the Lord had, as it were, cleared my path.
It is a great satisfaction, Fritz, to see that everything is working to our advantage.
In the midst of these thoughts I came quietly to Lutzelburg, and I went to Brestel's at the Swan Hotel to take a cup of coffee.
There I found Bernard, the soap merchant, whom you do not know—a little man, bald to the very nape of the neck, with great wens on his head—and Donadieu, the Harberg forest-keeper. One had laid his dosser and the other his gun against the wall, and they were emptying a bottle of wine between them. Brestel was helping.
"Ha! it is Moses," exclaimed Bernard. "Where the devil dost thou come from, so early in the morning!"
Christians in those days were in the habit of thouing the Jews—even the old men. I answered that I had come from Saverne, by the valley.
"Ah! thou hast seen the wounded," said the keeper. "What thinkest thou of that, Moses!"
"I have seen them," I replied sadly, "I saw them last evening. It is dreadful!"
"Yes, it is; everybody has gone up there to-day, because old Gredal of Quatre-Vents found her nephew under a cart—Joseph Bertha, the little lame watchmaker who worked last year with Father Goulden; so the people from Dagsberg, Houpe, and Garburg, expect to find their brothers, or sons, or cousins in the heap."