Two days later I left our sad but congenial hosts. My traveling companions had all disappeared. When I went downstairs I kept meeting Prussians, for the unfortunate proprietor had been invaded compulsorily by the German army. He looked at each soldier and at each officer, trying to find out whether he were not the one who had killed his poor boy. He did not tell me this, but it was my idea. It seemed to me that such was his thought and such the meaning of his gaze.

In the vehicle in which I drove to the station, the kind man had put a basket of food. He also gave me a copy of the sonnet and a tracing of his son’s photograph.

I left the desolate couple with the deepest emotion, and I kissed the girl on taking our departure. Soubise and I did not exchange a word on our journey to the station; we were both preoccupied with the same distressing thoughts.

CHAPTER XIV
HOMBOURG AND RETURN

At the station we found that the Germans were masters there, too. I asked for a first-class compartment to ourselves, or for a coupé—whatever they liked, provided we were alone.

I could not make myself understood. I saw a man oiling the wheels of the carriages, who looked to me like a Frenchman. I was not mistaken. He was an old man, who had been kept on, partly out of charity and partly because he knew every nook and corner, and being Alsatian, spoke German. This good man took me to the booking office and explained my wish to have a first-class compartment to myself. The man who had charge of the ticket office burst out laughing. There was neither first nor second class, he said; it was a German train, and I should have to travel like everyone else. The wheel oiler turned purple with rage, which he quickly suppressed. (He had to keep his place. His consumptive wife was nursing their son, who had just been sent home from the hospital with his leg cut off and the wound not yet healed up. There were so many in the hospital....) All this he told me as he took me to the station master. The latter spoke French very well, but he was not at all like the other German officers I had met. He scarcely saluted me, and when I expressed my desire he replied curtly:

“It is impossible. Two places shall be reserved for you in the officers’ carriage.”

“But that is what I want to avoid,” I exclaimed. “I do not want to travel with German officers.”

“Well, then, you shall be put with German soldiers,” he growled angrily, and putting on his hat, he went out, slamming the door.