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Updated: May 22, 2025
At that moment a servant came to the door. "Monsieur, there is a soldier outside who wants to know the address of Monsieur Weiss." There was nothing "stuck-up" about Delaherche, people said; he was fond of popularity and was always delighted to have a chat with those of an inferior station. "He wants Weiss's address! that's odd. Bring the soldier in here."
And thereon Jean, who, as he said, saw how the trick was done, brought Maurice with him to the bridge to keep an eye on the victuals. It was four o'clock, and they had not had a morsel to eat all that beautiful bright Thursday, when suddenly their eyes were gladdened by the sight of Delaherche.
He was with Monsieur Delaherche, his boss, who had come over in his carriage to see the soldiers at Mouzon which is the same as saying that they were out for a good time." An expression of intense scorn flitted over the old peasant's impenetrable face.
But those few words, modestly expressed, fairly made Delaherche jump. All his past fear and alarm, all the mental anguish he had suffered, burst from his lips in a cry of concentrated passion, closely allied to hatred. "A brave man, forsooth; and what does that amount to!
But suddenly Delaherche descried a French officer climbing the steep path up the flank of la Marfee; he was a general, wearing a blue tunic, mounted on a black horse, and preceded by a hussar bearing a white flag.
His speech became more confused as he proceeded; he stammered a few more unintelligible words, while the vision of the battle that had been born of his fever little by little grew blurred and dim and at last was effaced by slumber. He slept, and in his sleep perhaps the honest officer's dreams were dreams of victory. "Does the major speak favorably of his case?" Delaherche inquired in a whisper.
Then at last, casting a parting glance at the meadows, where the Bavarians were still gaining ground, Weiss gave in and followed Delaherche, but when they had gained the street he insisted upon going to see if the fastening of his door was secure, and when he came back to his companion there was a fresh spectacle, which brought them both to a halt.
And they fled, running, so as not to hear the poor boy's shrieks. Delaherche, who came in from the street just then, beckoned to them and shouted: "Come upstairs, come, quick! we are going to have breakfast. The cook has succeeded in procuring some milk, and it is well she did, for we are all in great need of something to warm our stomachs."
Fortune had smiled on them; Delaherche had spoken of giving Weiss an interest in the business, and when children should come to bless their union their felicity would be complete. "Look out!" the servant said to Jean; "the stairs are steep."
While at meal-times Edmond, the wounded cherub with the pretty face, lent a listening ear to Delaherche's unceasing chatter, blushing if ever Gilberte asked him to pass her the salt, while at evening M. de Gartlauben, seated in the study, with eyes upturned in silent ecstasy, listened to a sonata by Mozart performed for his benefit by the young woman in the adjoining drawing-room, a stillness as of death continued to pervade the apartment where Colonel de Vineuil and Madame Delaherche spent their days, the blinds tight drawn, the lamp continually burning, like a votive candle illuminating a tomb.
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