What was this man, friend or enemy? What could I say to him, and how should I speak to him, in French or in German?
I thought it would be best not to say anything and to wait till he addressed me. “Bon jour, Monsieur,” said he, on coming up. I returned his greeting.
“Have you been here long?” he asked me.
“No.”
“Where have you come from?” he continued.
I began to be reassured and noticed that my unknown spoke with the Alsatian accent. But the Alsatian accent is very similar to the German, and was not Alsace entirely occupied by the enemy?
Such were my thoughts on hearing him, and instead of answering his question, I asked him point-blank, “Are you French, Monsieur?” And as I asked I looked him well in the face and did not take my eyes from his, trying to read into his soul. “Oui, Monsieur,” was his answer, and the “Oui, Monsieur” was pronounced simply and with a frankness that concealed nothing and invited confidence.
I felt he had spoken the truth. I held out my hand and said: “Well, Monsieur, I am also a Frenchman. We have come from Paris and our balloon has just come down in this forest....”
“Oh, is that you! Good God, what sufferings you must have undergone! I have watched you battling with the storm for at least half an hour. My friends and I came out to beat the forest in order to find you and help you, for we foresaw a catastrophe.”
I was profoundly touched, and heartily wrung his hand....