“That’s a good idea.—Give me the frying-pan.”
In a short time the supper was prepared, and Sans-Souci and Jacques did full honor to it; Louise watched them, and laughed at the thought of her husband’s surprise when he should find that two strangers had slept in his house.
“I am going to put you into the little cheese room. It is close by, and you can go into it without going through our room and waking up my man. We will tell him all about it to-morrow.”
Louise was very particular that they should not wake her husband; she guided the two newcomers to a small room where the cheeses which they made were placed on boards along the wall. They did not diffuse a very pleasant odor through the room, but two soldiers are not particular. Jacques threw himself on the bed and slept soundly; Sans-Souci complained that the cheeses disturbed him, and he went out to take the air or for some other purpose; but the night passed very comfortably, and the farmer did not wake inopportunely.
The next day everybody was up early. Farmer Guillot opened his eyes at his wife’s story, when she told him about a cousin of hers having arrived during the night with one of his comrades. Guillot made haste to embrace his cousin and his friend; he welcomed them cordially, drank with them, found them exceedingly pleasant companions, and took them to see his farm, his hens, his oxen, his wheat and his hay. Our soldiers declared everything first-class and splendidly kept up; they complimented the farmer, and they were soon the best friends in the world.
Jacques loved the country, the meadows, the woods, and work in the fields. Sans-Souci loved the farmer’s wife and her cooking. In the evening, Jacques told Guillot about his battles, his sieges and his adventures. The farmer opened his eyes and held his breath; even Sans-Souci kept quiet and shared the pleasure of the peasants, which he prolonged by adding the story of his own experiences. Their adventures entertained the peasants to such a degree that they went more cheerfully to the fields in the morning, when the two soldiers had promised them a story for the evening.
The people of the village requested as a favor to be allowed to come and listen to Louise’s cousin and his comrade; and as formality and ceremony are unknown in the country, the great living-room of the farm-house was crowded with villagers as soon as the work of the day was finished. The old woman brought her flax and her spinning-wheel, the housekeeper plied her needle, the maiden bound up the sheaves; in one corner a young peasant sifted his horse’s grain; in another, the old man drank his ale, while the laborer smoked his pipe, leaning on a barrel; the children crawled about on the floor or played with Sans-Souci’s moustache, while Louise prepared the soup, Guillot sorted out grains, and one and all had their eyes fixed upon Jacques, listening attentively to his description of a battle. When the affair became hot and Jacques grew animated, the faces of the listeners expressed anxiety, dread, terror; the old woman stopped her spinning-wheel, the laborer took his pipe from his mouth, the old man forgot his glass, the young man ceased to shake his sifter, and everyone, with head stretched forward and mouth wide open, awaited the result of the battle before resuming his former occupation.
A week passed thus with great rapidity. Our two companions, who did not choose to pay for the farmer’s hospitality with stories alone, went out in the morning to assist the peasants in their work. Jacques went with Guillot to the fields, and plowed and dug with great strength and good-will. At first the farmer had set his face against his working, but Jacques had insisted, and in a very short time had become very skilful. As for Sans-Souci, he preferred to remain in the house. Louise undertook to supply him with work and she kept him busy. She was a very capable woman, and a hand never lacked work with her; whether it was in the attic, or in the cellar, or in the garden, or in the kitchen, she found some way to employ him always.
After some time, the farm-hand who had married went to live in his cottage with his wife. Guillot was in need of some one to take his place; the farm was an extensive one, and its dependencies considerable, and the farmer felt that Jacques and Sans-Souci would be none too many to help him work it. He dared not make the proposition to the two men, but Louise, who was anxious to keep them, undertook to arrange the affair. At the first words which she said, Jacques joyfully embraced the farmer’s wife.
“I was afraid,” he said, “of being a burden to you, but you offer me the means of earning my living honorably and I accept with gratitude. I will be a farm-hand, and I promise you that Sans-Souci will follow my example. We have both been soldiers, but whether one carries the musket or guides the plough, he is still serving his country, is he not?”