Once more his heart ached with sick disgust and pain while slowly he and his companion began walking towards the long, low buildings of the Tournebride.
The beautiful old inn, at any rate, looked exactly as when he had last seen it that morning, though the great gilt gates, which had been closed for over a fortnight, were now wide open. It was clear that the Commandant of the German forces now holding Valoise had fixed his headquarters there, but the Herr Doktor's eyes sought vainly for the sentries who should have been standing at either side of the open gates. This second occupation of Valoise was indeed unlike the first!
'While I the Herr Commandant interview, can you with Madame Blanc here stay?' he observed suddenly.
As they passed through the gates the Herr Doktor was sorry indeed to see that hundreds of empty and broken bottles were lying under the chestnut trees, on the now wine-stained paving stones. These empty, broken bottles gave an untidy, rakish air to the shady, stately courtyard where the first conquerors of Valoise had spent such peaceful, restful hours.
On they walked, picking their way among the débris. The place seemed deserted.
Puzzled, and feeling at once relieved and uncomfortable, the Herr Doktor stayed his steps for a moment, and the girl at his side did so too. Her eyes filled with tears, a sense of terrible degradation seemed to soil her soul, and, as the moments sped by, her companion was filled with growing apprehension and unease.
Why was the Tournebride thus deserted? Officers, as well as the men who had drunk the wine from the bottles now lying empty and broken about his feet, had been here very lately, for on a wooden table standing in the middle of the courtyard were a dozen or more large glass goblets—one even now half full of white wine—and empty, gold-foiled bottles. There also, on this wooden table, lay the bunch of keys which always dangled at Madame Blanc's ample waist.
Madame Blanc? Yes, if, as now seemed to be the case, the Commandant and his staff were all out in the town, he could leave Mademoiselle Rouannès with her while he went to look for them. In that thought he found a measure of relief. The knowledge that Jeanne Rouannès would have to run the gauntlet of the Prussian officers' eyes had been hateful to him.
But where was Madame Blanc?
Calling out her name, he walked across to the half-open door of the kitchen; and then, suddenly, Jeanne Rouannès, hardened as she had become that day to dreadful sights and sounds, uttered a low exclamation of fear and surprise. 'Great God!' she exclaimed in French, 'what is that? What is that, down there?'