The telegraph was in operation on the hill of Saint Jean; Burguet pointed it out to me.
"If we understood those signals, Moses," said he, "we should know better what was going to happen to us in the next fortnight."
Some persons having turned round to listen to us, we went down again into the streets of the quarters, very thoughtfully.
The soldiers at the upper windows of the barracks were also looking out. Men and women in great numbers were collecting in the street.
We went through the crowd. In the street of the Capuchins, which was always deserted, Burguet, who was walking with his head down, exclaimed:
"So it is all over! What things have we seen in these last twenty-five years, Moses! What astonishing and terrible things! And it is all over!"
He took hold of my hand, and looked at me as if he were astonished at his own words; then he began to walk on.
"This winter campaign has been frightful to me," said he; "it has dragged along—dragged along—and the thunder-bolt did not come! But to-morrow, the day after to-morrow, what are we going to hear? Is the Emperor dead? How will that affect us? Will France still be France? What will they leave us? What will they take from us?"
Reflecting on these things, we came in front of our house. Then, as if suddenly wakened, Burguet said to me:
"Prudence, Moses! If the Emperor is not dead, the veterans will hold out till the last second. Remember that, and whoever they suspect will have everything to fear."