"We are conquered, man," said the farmer, "and the good God knows this war is expensive."
Then he told Hans that he had heard that the King of Prussia had written a letter to Napoleon from Sondershausen, where he had fled after the defeat at Auerstädt.
"And the answer?" Hans' hand, holding his beer glass, trembled with eagerness.
The farmer, shrugging his shoulders, thrust out his under lip in a queer way he had.
"There has been none that I know of," he roared. Then he refilled their glasses, his eyes gleaming as the beer foamed.
Hans thought that he cared much more for this same beer than for his country's troubles, since he drank it with such pleasure while roaring how Napoleon, with a splendid procession, had entered Berlin. He had heard that the Berliners sat at their windows weeping. Napoleon had ransacked all the palaces and was stealing and sending to Paris all the art treasures of the Berliners. Only at Potsdam had he shown reverence. The Prussians had fled so hastily that they had left the cordon of the Black Eagle, the scarf and sword of Frederick the Great on the tomb in the garrison church.
When Napoleon saw them his eyes fired.
"Gentlemen," and he turned to the officers who accompanied him, "this is one of the greatest commanders of whom history has made mention." Then he traced an "N" on the tomb in the dust.
"If he were alive now I would not stand here," he said.
And because of his respect for the great Frederick he saved Potsdam from all annoyance from the war.