The postmaster, hearing these words, began to laugh, and, in the excess of his joy, cried:
"I would never have thought that a Frenchman could have made me laugh;" and bringing out a bottle of wine, we drank it together. It was the last time we met; for while we chatted over our wine, the order to march came.
And now the whole army was moving, advancing on Erfurt. Our sergeants kept repeating, "We are nearing them! there will be hot work soon;" and we thought, "So much the better!" that those beggarly Prussians and Russians had drawn their fate upon themselves. If they had remained quiet, we would have been yet in France.
These thoughts embittered us all towards the enemy, and, as we meet everywhere people who seem to rejoice only in fighting, Klipfel and Zébédé talked only of the pleasure it would give them to meet the Prussians; and I, not to seem less courageous than they, adopted the same strain.
On the eighth of April, the battalion entered Erfurt, and I will never forget how, when we broke ranks before the barracks, a package of letters was handed to the sergeant of the company. Among the number was one for me, and I recognized, Catharine's writing at once. Zébédé took my musket, telling me to read it, for he, too, was glad to hear from home.
I put it in my pocket, and all our Phalsbourg men followed me to hear it, but I only commenced when I was quietly seated on my bed in the barracks, while they crowded around. Tears rolled down my cheeks as she told me how she remembered and prayed for the far-off conscript.
My comrades, as I read, exclaimed:
"And we are sure that there are some at home to pray for us, too."
One spoke of his mother, another of his sisters, and another of his sweetheart.
At the end of the letter, Monsieur Goulden added a few words, telling me that all our friends were well, and that I should take courage, for our troubles could not last for ever. He charged me to be sure to tell my comrades that their friends thought of them and complained of not having received a word from them.