Chapter V. The Return of the French

by Emile Zola

　　It was three o'clock in the afternoon. Great black clouds, thetrail of some neighboring storm, had slowly filled the sky. Theyellow heavens, the brass covered uniforms, had changed the valleyof Rocreuse, so gay in the sunlight, into a den of cutthroats fullof sinister gloom. The Prussian officer had contented himself withcausing Dominique to be imprisoned without announcing what fate hereserved for him. Since noon Francoise had been torn by terribleanguish. Despite her father's entreaties she would not quit thecourtyard. She was awaiting the French. But the hours sped on;night was approaching, and she suffered the more as all the timegained did not seem to be likely to change the frightful denouement.

　　About three o'clock the Prussians made their preparations fordeparture. For an instant past the officer had, as on the previousday, shut himself up with Dominique. Francoise realized that theyoung man's life was in balance. She clasped her hands; she prayed.Pere Merlier, beside her, maintained silence and the rigid attitudeof an old peasant who does not struggle against fate.

　　"Oh, Mon Dieu! Oh, Mon Dieu!" murmured Francoise. "They are goingto kill him!"

　　The miller drew her to him and took her on his knees as if she hadbeen a child.

　　At that moment the officer came out, while behind him two menbrought Dominique.

　　"Never! Never!" cried the latter. "I am ready to die!"

　　"Think well," resumed the officer. "The service you refuse meanother will render us. I am generous: I offer you your life. Iwant you simply to guide us through the forest to Montredon. Theremust be pathways leading there."

　　Dominique was silent.

　　"So you persist in your infatuation, do you?"

　　"Kill me and end all this!" replied the young man.

　　Francoise, her hands clasped, supplicated him from afar. She hadforgotten everything; she would have advised him to commit an act ofcowardice. But Pere Merlier seized her hands that the Prussiansmight not see her wild gestures.

　　"He is right," he whispered: "it is better to die!"

　　The platoon of execution was there. The officer awaited a sign ofweakness on Dominique's part. He still expected to conquer him. Noone spoke. In the distance violent crashes of thunder were heard.Oppressive heat weighed upon the country. But suddenly, amid thesilence, a cry broke forth:

　　"The French! The French!"

　　Yes, the French were at hand. Upon the Sauval highway, at the edgeof the wood, the line of red pantaloons could be distinguished. Inthe mill there was an extraordinary agitation. The Prussiansoldiers ran hither and thither with guttural exclamations. Not ashot had yet been fired.

　　"The French! The French!" cried Francoise, clapping her hands.

　　She was wild with joy. She escaped from her father's grasp; shelaughed and tossed her arms in the air. At last they had come andcome in time, since Dominique was still alive!

　　A terrible platoon fire, which burst upon her ears like a clap ofthunder, caused her to turn. The officer muttered between histeeth:

　　"Before everything, let us settle this affair!"

　　And with his own hand pushing Dominique against the wall of a shedhe ordered his men to fire. When Francoise looked Dominique layupon the ground with blood streaming from his neck and shoulders.

　　She did not weep; she stood stupefied. Her eyes grew fixed, and shesat down under the shed, a few paces from the body. She stared atit, wringing her hands. The Prussians had seized Pere Merlier as ahostage.

　　It was a stirring combat. The officer had rapidly posted his men,comprehending that he could not beat a retreat without being cut topieces. Hence he would fight to the last. Now the Prussiansdefended the mill, and the French attacked it. The fusillade beganwith unusual violence. For half an hour it did not cease. Then ahollow sound was heard, and a ball broke a main branch of the oldelm. The French had cannon. A battery, stationed just above theditch in which Dominique had hidden himself, swept the wide streetof Rocreuse. The struggle could not last long.

　　Ah, the poor mill! Balls pierced it in every part. Half of theroof was carried away. Two walls were battered down. But it was onthe side of the Morelle that the destruction was most lamentable.The ivy, torn from the tottering edifice, hung like rags; the riverwas encumbered with wrecks of all kinds, and through a breach wasvisible Francoise's chamber with its bed, the white curtains ofwhich were carefully closed. Shot followed shot; the old wheelreceived two balls and gave vent to an agonizing groan; the bucketswere borne off by the current; the framework was crushed. The soulof the gay mill had left it!

　　Then the French began the assault. There was a furious fight withswords and bayonets. Beneath the rust-colored sky the valley waschoked with the dead. The broad meadows had a wild look with theirtall, isolated trees and their hedges of poplars which stained themwith shade. To the right and to the left the forests were like thewalls of an ancient ampitheater which enclosed the fightinggladiators, while the springs, the fountains and the flowing brooksseemed to sob amid the panic of the country.

　　Beneath the shed Francoise still sat near Dominique's body; she hadnot moved. Pere Merlier had received a slight wound. The Prussianswere exterminated, but the ruined mill was on fire in a dozenplaces. The French rushed into the courtyard, headed by theircaptain. It was his first success of the war. His face beamed withtriumph. He waved his sword, shouting:

　　"Victory! Victory!"

　　On seeing the wounded miller, who was endeavoring to comfortFrancoise, and noticing the body of Dominique, his joyous lookchanged to one of sadness. Then he knelt beside the young man and,tearing open his blouse, put his hand to his heart.

　　"Thank God!" he cried. "It is yet beating! Send for the surgeon!"

　　At the captain's words Francoise leaped to her feet.

　　"There is hope!" she cried. "Oh, tell me there is hope!"

　　At that moment the surgeon appeared. He made a hasty examinationand said:

　　"The young man is severely hurt, but life is not extinct; he can besaved!" By the surgeon's orders Dominique was transported to aneighboring cottage, where he was placed in bed. His wounds weredressed; restoratives were administered, and he soon recoveredconsciousness. When he opened his eyes he saw Francoise sittingbeside him and through the open window caught sight of Pere Merliertalking with the French captain. He passed his hand over hisforehead with a bewildered air and said:

　　"They did not kill me after all!"

　　"No," replied Francoise. "The French came, and their surgeon savedyou."

　　Pere Merlier turned and said through the window:

　　"No talking yet, my young ones!"

　　In due time Dominique was entirely restored, and when peace againblessed the land he wedded his beloved Francoise.

　　The mill was rebuilt, and Pere Merlier had a new wheel upon which tobestow whatever tenderness was not engrossed by his daughter and herhusband.