The next day the market will drive as good a trade, the customers will be just as numerous; the Café Biard will peacefully continue its flourishing business.
The Huns will scarcely care to renew their escapade; they have only gained a Pyrrhic victory.
CHAPTER VI
IT was the middle of winter. The glorious dark blue sky glittering with stars shed a soft light, such as one can see on frosty evenings even when the moon is hidden. Not a breath! The fir-trees stood darkly in the distance, their motionless shapes outlined against the horizon. The men were happy to come out of doors this calm and frosty night to take deep breaths of the life-giving air, and by rapid walking to bring their blood to a glow. What more delightful for a captive than to walk in the pine-scented night, under the azure sky, the contemplation of which called up memories of the dear homeland. In the frosty air, that whipped the blood and warmed the body, he could forget the present and turn freely to thoughts of happy times in other years, to the joyful Christmas Eves and the endless pleasures of the first days of January. Talking in groups of twos or threes, or alone wrapped in thought, with rapid steps the prisoners overtook or passed each other on the path that surrounded the camp.
Avoiding the too-frequented way for fear of being accosted by a comrade in search of a companion, a Frenchman, eager for solitude, walks up and down the space in the centre of the camp. He recalls memories of happy days, and the well-beloved faces of friends, and lives again through the sufferings he has endured. From time to time he looks at the infinite stars, and the thought of the free constellations of heaven calls forth a despairing sigh; he laments lost liberty and this forced inaction.
Suddenly his attention is attracted by a silent shadow which stands before him. It is the pillory, an instrument of torture which civilisation has not yet been able to abolish, and which still exists in German barracks for corporeal punishment. It is a high, solid post firmly fixed in the ground, and surmounted by a large white board on which a square of paper is fixed, showing the nationality, name and fault of the delinquent and the length of his punishment. This varies from two to twelve hours, according to the fault. In principle, two hours of the pillory are equal to a day in prison, and the duration of two hours must not be exceeded in a period of twenty-four hours. The culprit has his hands fastened together behind the post; his ankles are bound and kept immovable by a rope which fixes them to the base of the instrument of torture; another rope is tied round his body, rendering him incapable of a move. It is a punishment of which the intensity of suffering is very variable, according to whether the weather is fine or rainy, temperate or cold, according to whether the executioner has more or less animosity against the victim or his race. However that may be, even on a fine day, with the ropes loose and under the most favourable conditions, to stand motionless for two hours is a painful punishment.