I told him that I had a friend waiting for me in the road and a lady in the railway carriage.
“But that makes no difference,” he said. “Let us go and fetch them.”
A few minutes later we found poor Villaret seated on a milestone. His head was on his knees, and he was asleep. I asked him to fetch Mlle. Soubise.
“And if your other travelling companions will come and take a cup of tea they will be welcome,” said the officer. I went back with him, and we entered by the little door through which I had seen him come out. It was a fairly large room which we entered, on a level with the meadow; there were some mats on the floor, a very low bed, and an enormous table, on which were two large maps of France. One of these was studded over with pins and small flags. There was also a portrait of the Emperor William, mounted and fastened up with four pins. All this belonged to the officer.
On the chimney-piece, under an enormous glass shade, were a bride’s wreath, a military medal, and a plait of white hair. On each side of the glass shade was a china vase containing a branch of box. All this, together with the table and the bed, belonged to the landlady, who had given up her room to the officer.
There were five cane chairs round the table, a velvet arm-chair, and a wooden bench covered with books against the wall. A sword and belt were lying on the table, and two horse-pistols.
I was philosophising to myself on all these heterogeneous objects, when the others arrived: Mlle. Soubise, Villaret, young Gerson, and that unbearable Théodore Joussian. (I hope he will forgive me if he is living now, poor man, but the thought of him still irritates me.)
The officer had some boiling hot tea made for us, and it was a veritable treat, as we were exhausted with hunger and cold.
When the door was opened for the tea to be brought in Théodore Joussian caught a glimpse of the throng of girls, soldiers, and other people.
“Ah, my friends,” he exclaimed, with a burst of laughter, “we are at His Majesty William’s; there is a reception on, and it’s chic—I can tell you that!” With this he smacked his tongue twice. Villaret reminded him that we were the guests of a German, and that it was preferable to be quiet.