Soon news was brought of the victories of Champ Aubert and of Montmirail; but times of great misfortune were at hand. The Allies, in spite of the heroism of our army and the genius of the Emperor, entered Paris.
This was a terrible blow for Jean-Claude, Catherine, Materne, Jerôme, and all the mountaineers; but the recital of these events does not enter into our history; others have related them.
Peace made, in the spring they rebuilt the farm of Bois-des-Chênes. The woodcutters, sabôt-makers, masons, bargemen, and all the workmen of the country lent a hand.
About the same period, the army having been disbanded, Gaspard cut off his moustaches, and his marriage with Louise took place.
On that day all the combatants arrived from the Falkenstein and the Donon, and the farm received them with doors and windows wide open. Every one brought his presents to the bride and bridegroom—Jerôme, little shoes for Louise; Materne and his sons, a fine heathcock, the most amorous of birds, as everybody knows; Divès, packets of smuggled tobacco for Gaspard; and Doctor Lorquin, a parcel of fine linen.
There was open table kept even in the barns and outhouses. What was consumed in wine, bread, meat, tarts, and kougelhof, we cannot say; but what we know is, that Jean-Claude, who had been very gloomy and depressed since the entry of the Allies into Paris, brightened himself up on that day by singing the old air of his youth as gaily as when he set off, gun on shoulder, for Valmy, Jemmapes, and Fleurus. The echoes of the Falkenstein opposite repeated from afar this old patriotic song—the grandest, the most noble that man has ever heard under heaven. Catherine Lefévre beat time upon the table with the handle of her knife; and if it is true, as many say, that the dead come to listen when we speak of them, our brave fellows must have been satisfied, and the King of Diamonds have foamed in his red beard.
Towards midnight, Hullin rose, and addressing the newly-married couple, said to them:
"You will have brave children; I will dance them upon my knees; I will teach them my old song; and then I will go and rejoin my forefathers!"
So saying, he embraced Louise, and arm-in-arm with Marc Divès and Jerôme, he went down to his little cottage followed by all the wedding guests, singing in chorus the sublime song.
Never was there seen a more beautiful night; inumerable stars sparkled in the deep blue sky; there was a gentle rustling among the shrubs at the foot of the mountain beneath which so many brave men had been interred. Every one experienced by turns feelings of joy and of regret.