God of heaven! did we indeed behold such devastation? we did in truth. We all saw it: it was no dream!
The cold was piercing. The townspeople, haggard and pale, stared at us arriving; recognitions took place, men and women approached and took each other by the hand.
"Well?" "Well," was the reply in a hollow whisper, in the midst of the street encumbered with blackened beams of wood. "Have you suffered much?" "Ah! yes."
This was enough: no need for another word; and then we would proceed farther. At every street corner a new scene of horror began.
Catherine and I were seeking Jacob; no doubt Grédel was looking for Jean Baptiste.
We saw our poor Mobiles passing by, scarcely recognizable after those five months. All through the fearful cold these unhappy men had had nothing on but their summer blouses and linen trousers. Many of them might have escaped and gained their villages, for the gates had stood open since the evening before; but not a man thought of doing so; it was not supposed that Mobiles would be treated like regular soldiers.
On the place, in front of the fallen church filled with its own ruins, we heard, for the first time, that the garrison were prisoners of war.
The cafés Vacheron, Meyer, and Hoffmann, riddled with balls, were swarming with officers.
We were gazing, not knowing whom to ask after Jacob, when a cry behind us made us turn round; and there was Grédel in the arms of Jean Baptiste Werner! Then I kept silence; my wife also. Since she would have it so, well, so let it be; this matter concerned her much more than it did us.
Jean Baptiste, after the first moment, looked embarrassed at seeing us; he approached us with a pale face, and as we spoke not a word to him, George shook him by the hand, and cried: "Jean Baptiste, I know that you have behaved well during this siege; we have learned it all with pleasure: didn't we, Christian? didn't we, Catherine?"