'You forget that, save my pay, I am all but penniless. A terrible crime in the eyes of the Grafine Adelaide.'
'Penniless girls are often married for their beauty,' said young Frankenburg, laughing; 'why should not a penniless man be married for his talents or bravery?'
And, as the subdivisions were somewhat apart, those two brothers in heart shook hands, saluted each other with their swords, and took their places in the new alignement.
The day was a bright and beautiful one. Over all Lorraine the green woods and vineyards seemed to be sleeping in the glowing summer sunshine, and the scared peasant near Courcelles Chaussy paused in his work with the sweat on his brow, and spoke with bated breath, as the marching troops went past to death and slaughter, and his honest sunburnt face grew pale, perhaps at the thought of what might be.
Around Ars and Grigy, Borny and Colombey, and many other hamlets and picturesque chateaux, the cattle, rich in colour and sleek in hide, were chewing the cud among the knee-deep pastures; the fresh blue streams ran on their course as if rejoicing to escape the scenes of blood that were about to ensue; the blue kingfishers flitted about, and the sparrows twittered in the green hedge-rows, the branches of which were matted and intertwined with gorgeous wild flowers. The corn was waving in the ripening fields, the swallows skimmed in the air, and from their cottage doors the buxom peasant girls, their cheeks dusky with southern blood and their black eyes sparkling with tears and terror, stood by their mother's side and watched in sorrow and terror the forward march of the Prussian troops to conquest and carnage, and the village bells, from more than one Gothic spire, rang out the hour that was to be the death-knell of thousands closing in the shock of steel.
The moment the formation of the infantry in line was complete, the cavalry scouts went galloping to the front, and in a few minutes a green ridge in front of the Prussian infantry was studded by Uhlans, with their figures and tall lances clearly defined against the pure blue of the sky. Anon, these weapons were slung, and pistols were resorted to, and a sharp cracking of these announced that the enemy was in sight.
In a cloud of dust, a body of dragoons in close column of troops now poured along the broad highway, with swords and helmets flashing in the sun. There were the escort of the artillery, which came rumbling along, with rammers and sponges ready for use, the limber-boxes unlocked, the gunners ready to leap down, and wheel their muzzles to the enemy.
When deploying from close column into line, the companies marched over everything, treading to mud and mire the golden grain—the hope of the husbandman and farmer; while the horses of the cavalry ate it standing in their ranks.
Resolutely marched on the Prussian infantry, each man with his blue greatcoat rolled over his right shoulder, the deadly zundnadelgewehr with bayonet fixed, sloped on his left shoulder, the chain of his helmet down, lest it should fall off in the mêlée. The Uhlans fell back round the flanks, and then the French were seen lurking in rifle-pits, which on one hand afforded them protection, and, on the other, enabled them over the little earthen banks to take sure aim at the invaders.
These rifle-pits and other defences extended over a considerable space of ground, from Colombey, with its fields of scarlet poppies, to Ars-sur-Moselle (so famous for its red wines), including Laguenxey, Grigy, and Borny, all pretty little hamlets. The firing first began at the village of Ste. Barbe, within seven miles from the walls of Metz, in front of which were the principal corps of the French army under Marshal Bazaine, according to the Prussian account.