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So Jack led the way and ushered the other into a huge room with two beds, seemingly lost in distant diagonal corners. Grahame promptly kicked off his boots, and sat down on his bed. "I saw a funny thing in Saarbrück," he said. "It was right in the midst of a cannonade the shells were smashing the chimneys on the Hotel Hagen and raising hell generally.
Edging his way to the meadow, he put his horse to the ditch, cleared it, and galloped on towards a spire that rose close ahead, outlined dimly in the smoke and dust, and in ten minutes he was in Saarbrück.
If he were going to send his despatch, he had no time to waste in Saarbrück he understood that at a glance.
They had alighted at Forbach, and proceeded thence to make a reconnaissance into the enemy's territory near Saarbrück, a small town of two thousand inhabitants, where, strange to say, an International Peace Congress had held its session not many months before. This place had an ordinary frontier garrison, and lay two and a half miles beyond the boundary of France.
In Alsace and to Lorraine, by Neiderbronn, at Weissenburg, at Woërth, at Saarbruck, at Metz, at Sedan, "where," said Herr postmaster, "we have received the sword of the Emperor Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, who is now our prisoner in the Palace of the Habichtswald." Then ah! me, to think that they should be taken to the end of the world right into France, to Donchery, to Chalons.
One of the field-surgeons gave him a brief outline of the casualties and general result of the battle, and he thanked him and hastened on towards Saarbrück, whence he expected to send his despatches to Paris.
Jack Marche heard of these things but saw little of them. The great war wave rolling through the provinces towards the Rhine skirted them at Saint-Lys, and scarcely disturbed them. They heard that Douay was marching through the country somewhere, some said towards Wissembourg, some said towards Saarbrück. But these towns were names to the peasants of Saint-Lys tant pis for the two towns! And General Douay who was he? Probably a fat man in red breeches and polished boots, wearing a cocked-hat and a cross on his breast. Anyway, they would chase the Prussians and kill a few, as they had chased the Russians in the Crimea, and the Italians in Rome, and the Kabyles in Oran. The result? Nothing but a few new colours for the ribbons in their sweethearts' hair like that pretty Magenta and Solferino and Sebastopol gray. "Fichtre! Faut-il gaspiller tout de même! mais,
The sinister face of a police-spy peered into the conservatory at intervals, where a slender, pale-faced boy sat, clothed in a colonel's uniform, writing on a carved table. It was the Prince Imperial, back from Saarbrück and his "baptism of fire," back also from the Spicheren and the disaster of Wörth.
He tossed his riding-crop on to the desk, picked up a pen, and wrote carefully, ending the single page with, "It is reported that Uhlans have been encountered in the direction of Saarbrück, and, although I do not believe it, I shall go there to-morrow and see for myself. I will be back within the twelve hours. May I ride over to tell you about these mythical Uhlans when I return?"
Chaumont, France. 2,253 Amelia shaft, Shemnitz, Hungary. 1,782 The No. 1 Camphausen shaft, near Fishbach, in the department of the Saarbruck Collieries, Prussia. 1,650
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