“This way, Madame, this way,” the old man cried imploringly; “those poor fellows—we can help them only with our prayers. They have been coming here all night. Ah, that we should see such sights; that God should permit men to do these things!”
He took her by the hand and led her through the kitchen of the house. There were German officers there, a merry party, hardened to the scenes about, and careless in its talk of victory and of advance. The men bowed to her as she passed, for they understood that she was the English friend of the “Herr Major.” In the garden she found Brandon waiting by his horse. The thought came to her that it was good to have such a friend in such a place. There was no question of the “might be” where the Prussians stood.
“Oh,” she said, shuddering still with horror of the house, “how good it is to breathe again! Have you been waiting long, Brandon?”
“I was up here at six, but they told me you were asleep. You must be tired enough after yesterday, and you’ll have a long day. I didn’t want to wake you, but it was necessary if you are to come with us. Of course you will come. There’s not a house in Wörth fit for a dog just now. We can make a road if you’ll go in Watts’s cart. He’s an eccentric old fellow, attached to one of the New York papers—though he’s an Englishman for all that. I told him that you were an Englishwoman and had friends in Strasburg, and he’s only too pleased to help. I dare say he’ll drive you right into the town. Don’t mind his bluntness. He’s a regular old Bohemian, and not a sham one made in an alehouse. It will be best for you to stay there with Madame Hélène, or to go down into Switzerland, as you please; but, if you take my advice, Beatrix, you won’t stop a day longer in the Place Kleber than you can help. You see for yourself what’s going to happen. And Strasburg won’t be a pleasant place when von Werder calls there.”
He spoke to her with a certain intimacy of friendship, as though they two stood apart from this quarrel of nations, and had a common interest elsewhere, in their nationality and their circumstances. She heard him in that spirit; but her own future was no concern to her. At Strasburg, among her friends—at Madame Hélène’s house—all would be well there.
“Of course I shall go,” she said; “it’s very good of you to trouble so much, and Edmond will be grateful. He would not look for me anywhere else when he comes back. If I could only be sure that they are treating him well.”
She laughed at herself for the naïve confession, and corrected it instantly.
“You are a Prussian,” she said. “I forgot that. And you never told us—”
He shrugged his shoulders.