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Updated: June 22, 2025
Father Fouchard did things handsomely at the leave-taking, sending Silvine to the cellar for two bottles of wine and insisting that everyone should drink a glass to the extermination of the Germans.
And very well pleased at heart, he called to Silvine, who just then came in from putting Charlot to bed: "Let's have some glasses; we are going to drink to the downfall of old Bismarck."
"Quick, I must be gone!" said Silvine, hurrying from the room and leaving him again in darkness. "I must make haste and see they get their loaves." A loud knocking was heard at the kitchen door and Prosper, who was beginning to tire of his solitude, was holding a hesitating parley with the visitors.
They came up this time in a deep mass across a wide, smooth field, manes and tails streaming in the wind, froth flying from their nostrils, and the level rays of the fiery setting sun sent the shadow of the infuriated herd clean across the plateau. Silvine rushed forward and planted herself before the cart, raising her arms above her head as if her puny form might have power to check them.
Silvine was at last lugging Charlot away in her arms when there arose from the courtyard of the farm a confused sound of steps and voices. Jean listened in astonishment. "What is it? It can't be Father Fouchard returning, for I did not hear his wagon wheels."
Silvine, when she had brought the cart back into the road, insisted that Prosper should answer her question before they proceeded further. "Come, where is it? You told me you could find the spot with your eyes bandaged; where is it? We have reached the ground." He, drawing himself up and anxiously scanning the horizon in every direction, seemed to become more and more perplexed.
He looked over his shoulder and politely said: "Silvine, if it's not troubling you too much, I would like to have a tub." During the whole of the trial scene Silvine had not moved a muscle. She had stood in an attitude of waiting, with drawn, rigid features, as if mind and body had parted company, conscious of nothing but the one fixed idea that had possessed her for the last two days.
When their agitation had in a measure subsided, however, Fouchard was annoyed that Silvine still continued to talk of going to search for Honore's body out there on the battlefield.
And finally slumber overtook him, with a happy laugh upon his lips. She had not taken the trouble to undress him; she covered him warmly and left the room, and so soundly was he in the habit of sleeping that she did not even think it necessary to turn the key in the door. Silvine had never known herself to be so calm, so clear and alert of mind.
Soon after that a terrible thing happened: Silvine, who had sworn that she would be true to her lover and await his return, was detected one day, two short weeks after his departure, in the company of a laborer who had been working on the farm for some months past, that Goliah Steinberg, the Prussian, as he was called; a tall, simple young fellow with short, light hair, wearing a perpetual smile on his broad, pink face, who had made himself Honore's chum.
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