That music, those cries, sent a shudder through my heart.
I had just put on my swallow-tailed coat and my beaver hat to go out, when Aunt Grédel and Catharine entered, saying:
"Good morning, Monsieur Goulden. We have come for the conscription."
Then I saw how Catharine had been crying. Her eyes were red, and she threw her arms around my neck, while her mother turned to me.
Monsieur Goulden said:
"It will soon be the turn of the young men of the city."
"Yes, Monsieur Goulden," answered Catharine, in a choking voice; "they have finished Harberg."
"Then it is time for you to go, Joseph," said he; "but do not grieve; do not be frightened. These drawings, you know, are only a matter of form. For a long while past none can escape; or if they escape one drawing, they are caught a year or two after. All the numbers are bad. When the council of exemption meets, we will see what is best to be done. To-day it is merely a sort of satisfaction they give people to draw in the lottery; but every one loses."
"No matter," said Aunt Grédel; "Joseph will win."
"Yes, yes," replied Monsieur Goulden, smiling, "he cannot fail."