"What matter?" they had answered when someone had ventured to refer to Napoleon and his victories. "He must yield to us Prussians. Why not? The moment that he heard that we were at Jena did he not leave Weimar in haste and retreat to Gera?"
In security they had gone to rest, and while they slept, Napoleon had been planning a surprise for them.
While old Hans was thinking, he suddenly found out what the Emperor had meant by his good-morning.
"Grandfather, oh, grandfather!" in sudden fright called out little Bettina, "Oh, grandfather, what is it?"
Hans' neck had stretched itself forward, his ears were listening, his whole body on a strain, for a roar, deep and full and awful, seemed suddenly to roll through the quiet of the silent, green forest.
"Grandfather!"
The old man turned his face as excited as a boy's.
"Himmel, child, Himmel!" he cried. "The Emperor is saying good-morning. It is cannon you hear. The battle has begun at Jena!"
"Come, come," he continued, "I will not go any farther. Let the trees take care of themselves for this morning. Come, come! What has an old soldier of Frederick the Great to do with fir trees when the cannon are sounding for battle?" And he started quickly in an opposite direction. Bettina had to run so to keep up with him that her breath came in little pants and her heart beat violently. But the roar was so awful she was glad to be running to get away from it.
If that was the voice of Napoleon saying good-morning, no wonder people were afraid of him.