The Prisoners
There was not a sound in the forest save the indistinct, fluttering soundof the snow falling on the trees. It had been snowing since noon; alittle fine snow, that covered the branches as with frozen moss, andspread a silvery covering over the dead leaves in the ditches, andcovered the roads with a white, yielding carpet, and made still moreintense the boundless silence of this ocean of trees.Before the door of the forester's dwelling a young woman, her arms bareto the elbow, was chopping wood with a hatchet on a block of stone. Shewas tall, slender, strong-a true girl of the woods, daughter and wife ofa forester.A voice called from within the house:"We are alone to-night, Berthine; you must come in. It is getting dark,and there may be Prussians or wolves about.""I've just finished, mother," replied the young woman, splitting as shespoke an immense log of wood with strong, deft blows, which expanded herchest each time she raised her arms to strike. "Here I am; there's noneed to be afraid; it's quite light still."Then she gathered up her sticks and logs, piled them in the chimneycorner, went back to close the great oaken shutters, and finally came in,drawing behind her the heavy bolts of the door.Her mother, a wrinkled old woman whom age had rendered timid, wasspinning by the fireside."I am uneasy," she said, "when your father's not here. Two women are notmuch good.""Oh," said the younger woman, "I'd cheerfully kill a wolf or a Prussianif it came to that."And she glanced at a heavy revolver hanging above the hearth.Her husband had been called upon to serve in the army at the beginning ofthe Prussian invasion, and the two women had remained alone with the oldfather, a keeper named Nicolas Pichon, sometimes called Long-legs, whorefused obstinately to leave his home and take refuge in the town.This town was Rethel, an ancient stronghold built on a rock. Itsinhabitants were patriotic, and had made up their minds to resist theinvaders, to fortify their native place, and, if need be, to stand asiege as in the good old days. Twice already, under Henri IV and underLouis XIV, the people of Rethel had distinguished themselves by theirheroic defence of their town. They would do as much now, by gad! or elsebe slaughtered within their own walls.They had, therefore, bought cannon and rifles, organized a militia, andformed themselves into battalions and companies, and now spent their timedrilling all day long in the square. All-bakers, grocers, butchers,lawyers, carpenters, booksellers, chemists-took their turn at militarytraining at regular hours of the day, under the auspices of MonsieurLavigne, a former noncommissioned officer in the dragoons, now a draper,having married the daughter and inherited the business of MonsieurRavaudan, Senior.He had taken the rank of commanding officer in Rethel, and, seeing thatall the young men had gone off to the war, he had enlisted all the otherswho were in favor of resisting an attack. Fat men now invariably walkedthe streets at a rapid pace, to reduce their weight and improve theirbreathing, and weak men carried weights to strengthen their muscles.And they awaited the Prussians. But the Prussians did not appear. Theywere not far off, however, for twice already their scouts had penetratedas far as the forest dwelling of Nicolas Pichon, called Long-legs.The old keeper, who could run like a fox, had come and warned the town.The guns had been got ready, but the enemy had not shown themselves.Long-legs' dwelling served as an outpost in the Aveline forest. Twice aweek the old man went to the town for provisions and brought the citizensnews of the outlying district.On this particular day he had gone to announce the fact that a smalldetachment of German infantry had halted at his house the day before,about two o'clock in the afternoon, and had left again almostimmediately. The noncommissioned officer in charge spoke French.When the old man set out like this he took with him his dogs--twopowerful animals with the jaws of lions-as a safeguard against thewolves, which were beginning to get fierce, and he left directions withthe two women to barricade themselves securely within their dwelling assoon as night fell.The younger feared nothing, but her mother was always apprehensive, andrepeated continually:"We'll come to grief one of these days. You see if we don't!"This evening she was, if possible, more nervous than ever."Do you know what time your father will be back?" she asked."Oh, not before eleven, for certain. When he dines with the commandanthe's always late."And Berthine was hanging her pot over the fire to warm the soup when shesuddenly stood still, listening attentively to a sound that had reachedher through the chimney."There are people walking in the wood," she said; "seven or eight men atleast."The terrified old woman stopped her spinning wheel, and gasped:"Oh, my God! And your father not here!"She had scarcely finished speaking when a succession of violent blowsshook the door.As the woman made no reply, a loud, guttural voice shouted:"Open the door!"After a brief silence the same voice repeated:"Open the door or I'll break it down!"Berthine took the heavy revolver from its hook, slipped it into thepocket of her skirt, and, putting her ear to the door, asked:"Who are you?" demanded the young woman. "What do you want?"."The detachment that came here the other day," replied the voice."My men and I have lost our way in the forest since morning. Open thedoor or I'll break it down!"The forester's daughter had no choice; she shot back the heavy bolts,threw open the ponderous shutter, and perceived in the wan light of thesnow six men, six Prussian soldiers, the same who had visited the housethe day before."What are you doing here at this time of night?" she asked dauntlessly."I lost my bearings," replied the officer; "lost them completely. Then Irecognized this house. I've eaten nothing since morning, nor my meneither.""But I'm quite alone with my mother this evening," said Berthine."Never mind," replied the soldier, who seemed a decent sort of fellow."We won't do you any harm, but you must give us something to eat. We arenearly dead with hunger and fatigue."Then the girl moved aside."Come in;" she said.Then entered, covered with snow, their helmets sprinkled with a creamy-looking froth, which gave them the appearance of meringues. They seemedutterly worn out.The young woman pointed to the wooden benches on either side of the largetable."Sit down," she said, "and I'll make you some soup. You certainly looktired out, and no mistake."Then she bolted the door afresh.She put more water in the pot, added butter and potatoes; then, takingdown a piece of bacon from a hook in the chimney earner, cut it in twoand slipped half of it into the pot.The six men watched her movements with hungry eyes. They had placedtheir rifles and helmets in a corner and waited for supper, as wellbehaved as children on a school bench.The old mother had resumed her spinning, casting from time to time afurtive and uneasy glance at the soldiers. Nothing was to be heard savethe humming of the wheel, the crackling of the fire, and the singing ofthe water in the pot.But suddenly a strange noise--a sound like the harsh breathing of somewild animal sniffing under the door-startled the occupants of the room.The German officer sprang toward the rifles. Berthine stopped him with agesture, and said, smilingly:"It's only the wolves. They are like you--prowling hungry through theforest."The incredulous man wanted to see with his own eyes, and as soon as thedoor was opened he perceived two large grayish animals disappearing withlong, swinging trot into the darkness.He returned to his seat, muttering:"I wouldn't have believed it!"And he waited quietly till supper was ready.The men devoured their meal voraciously, with mouths stretched to theirears that they might swallow the more. Their round eyes opened at thesame time as their jaws, and as the soup coursed down their throats itmade a noise like the gurgling of water in a rainpipe.The two women watched in silence the movements of the big red beards.The potatoes seemed to be engulfed in these moving fleeces.But, as they were thirsty, the forester's daughter went down to thecellar to draw them some cider. She was gone some time. The cellar wassmall, with an arched ceiling, and had served, so people said, both asprison and as hiding-place during the Revolution. It was approached bymeans of a narrow, winding staircase, closed by a trap-door at thefarther end of the kitchen.When Berthine returned she was smiling mysteriously to herself. She gavethe Germans her jug of cider.Then she and her mother supped apart, at the other end of the kitchen.The soldiers had finished eating, and were all six falling asleep as theysat round the table. Every now and then a forehead fell with a thud onthe board, and the man, awakened suddenly, sat upright again.Berthine said to the officer:"Go and lie down, all of you, round the fire. There's lots of room forsix. I'm going up to my room with my mother."And the two women went upstairs. They could be heard locking the doorand walking about overhead for a time; then they were silent.The Prussians lay down on the floor, with their feet to the fire andtheir heads resting on their rolled-up cloaks. Soon all six snoredloudly and uninterruptedly in six different keys.They had been sleeping for some time when a shot rang out so loudly thatit seemed directed against the very wall's of the house. The soldiersrose hastily. Two-then three-more shots were fired.The door opened hastily, and Berthine appeared, barefooted and only halfdressed, with her candle in her hand and a scared look on her face."There are the French," she stammered; "at least two hundred of them. Ifthey find you here they'll burn the house down. For God's sake, hurrydown into the cellar, and don't make a 'sound, whatever you do. If youmake any noise we are lost.""We'll go, we'll go," replied the terrified officer. "Which is the way?"The young woman hurriedly raised the small, square trap-door, and the sixmen disappeared one after another down the narrow, winding staircase,feeling their way as they went.But as soon as the spike of the out of the last helmet was out of sightBerthine lowered the heavy oaken lid--thick as a wall, hard as steel,furnished with the hinges and bolts of a prison cell--shot the two heavybolts, and began to laugh long and silently, possessed with a mad longingto dance above the heads of her prisoners.They made no sound, inclosed in the cellar as in a strong-box, obtainingair only from a small, iron-barred vent-hole.Berthine lighted her fire again, hung the pot over it, and prepared moresoup, saying to herself:"Father will be tired to-night."Then she sat and waited. The heavy pendulum of the clock swung to andfro with a monotonous tick.Every now and then the young woman cast an impatient glance at the dial-aglance which seemed to say:"I wish he'd be quick!"But soon there was a sound of voices beneath her feet. Low, confusedwords reached her through the masonry which roofed the cellar. ThePrussians were beginning to suspect the trick she had played them, andpresently the officer came up the narrow staircase, and knocked at thetrap-door."Open the door!" he cried."What do you want?" she said, rising from her seat and approaching thecellarway."Open the door!""I won't do any such thing!""Open it or I'll break it down!" shouted the man angrily.She laughed."Hammer away, my good man! Hammer away!"He struck with the butt-end of his gun at the closed oaken door. But itwould have resisted a battering-ram.The forester's daughter heard him go down the stairs again. Then thesoldiers came one after another and tried their strength against thetrapdoor. But, finding their efforts useless, they all returned to thecellar and began to talk among themselves.The young woman heard them for a short time, then she rose, opened thedoor of the house; looked out into the night, and listened.A sound of distant barking reached her ear. She whistled just as ahuntsman would, and almost immediately two great dogs emerged from thedarkness, and bounded to her side. She held them tight, and shouted atthe top of her voice:"Hullo, father!"A far-off voice replied:"Hullo, Berthine!"She waited a few seconds, then repeated:"Hullo, father!"The voice, nearer now, replied:"Hullo, Berthine!""Don't go in front of the vent-hole!" shouted his daughter. "There arePrussians in the cellar!"Suddenly the man's tall figure could be seen to the left, standingbetween two tree trunks."Prussians in the cellar?" he asked anxiously. "What are they doing?"The young woman laughed."They are the same as were here yesterday. They lost their way, and I'vegiven them free lodgings in the cellar."She told the story of how she had alarmed them by firing the revolver,and had shut them up in the cellar.The man, still serious, asked:"But what am I to do with them at this time of night?""Go and fetch Monsieur Lavigne with his men," she replied. "He'll takethem prisoners. He'll be delighted."Her father smiled."So he will-delighted.""Here's some soup for you," said his daughter. "Eat it quick, and thenbe off."The old keeper sat down at the table, and began to eat his soup, havingfirst filled two plates and put them on the floor for the dogs.The Prussians, hearing voices, were silent.Long-legs set off a quarter of an hour later, and Berthine, with her headbetween her hands, waited.The prisoners began to make themselves heard again. They shouted,called, and beat furiously with the butts of their muskets against therigid trap-door of the cellar.Then they fired shots through the vent-hole, hoping, no doubt, to beheard by any German detachment which chanced to be passing that way.The forester's daughter did not stir, but the noise irritated andunnerved her. Blind anger rose in her heart against the prisoners; shewould have been only too glad to kill them all, and so silence them.Then, as her impatience grew, she watched the clock, counting the minutesas they passed.Her father had been gone an hour and a half. He must have reached thetown by now. She conjured up a vision of him telling the story toMonsieur Lavigne, who grew pale with emotion, and rang for his servant tobring him his arms and uniform. She fancied she could bear the drum asit sounded the call to arms. Frightened faces appeared at the windows.The citizen-soldiers emerged from their houses half dressed, out ofbreath, buckling on their belts, and hurrying to the commandant's house.Then the troop of soldiers, with Long-legs at its head, set forth throughthe night and the snow toward the forest.She looked at the clock. "They may be here in an hour."A nervous impatience possessed her. The minutes seemed interminable.Would the time never come?At last the clock marked the moment she had fixed on for their arrival.And she opened the door to listen for their approach. She perceived ashadowy form creeping toward the house. She was afraid, and cried out.But it was her father."They have sent me," he said, "to see if there is any change in the stateof affairs.""No-none."Then he gave a shrill whistle. Soon a dark mass loomed up under thetrees; the advance guard, composed of ten men."Don't go in front of the vent-hole!" repeated Long-legs at intervals.And the first arrivals pointed out the much-dreaded vent-hole to thosewho came after.At last the main body of the troop arrived, in all two hundred men, eachcarrying two hundred cartridges.Monsieur Lavigne, in a state of intense excitement, posted them in such afashion as to surround the whole house, save for a large space leftvacant in front of the little hole on a level with the ground, throughwhich the cellar derived its supply of air.Monsieur Lavigne struck the trap-door a blow with his foot, and called:"I wish to speak to the Prussian officer!"The German did not reply."The Prussian officer!" again shouted the commandant.Still no response. For the space of twenty minutes Monsieur Lavignecalled on this silent officer to surrender with bag and baggage,promising him that all lives should be spared, and that he and his menshould be accorded military honors. But he could extort no sign, eitherof consent or of defiance. The situation became a puzzling one.The citizen-soldiers kicked their heels in the snow, slapping their armsacross their chest, as cabdrivers do, to warm themselves, and gazing atthe vent-hole with a growing and childish desire to pass in front of it.At last one of them took the risk-a man named Potdevin, who was fleet.of limb. He ran like a deer across the zone of danger. The experimentsucceeded. The prisoners gave no sign of life.A voice cried:"There's no one there!"And another soldier crossed the open space before the dangerous vent-hole. Then this hazardous sport developed into a game. Every minute aman ran swiftly from one side to the other, like a boy playing baseball,kicking up the snow behind him as he ran. They had lighted big fires ofdead wood at which to warm themselves, and the, figures of the runnerswere illumined by the flames as they passed rapidly from the camp on theright to that on the left.Some one shouted:"It's your turn now, Maloison."Maloison was a fat baker, whose corpulent person served to point many ajoke among his comrades.He hesitated. They chaffed him. Then, nerving himself to the effort, heset off at a little, waddling gait, which shook his fat paunch and madethe whole detachment laugh till they cried."Bravo, bravo, Maloison!" they shouted for his encouragement.He had accomplished about two-thirds of his journey when a long, crimsonflame shot forth from the vent-hole. A loud report followed, and the fatbaker fell. face forward to the ground, uttering a frightful scream.No one went to his assistance. Then he was seen to drag himself,groaning, on all-fours through the snow until he was beyond danger, whenhe fainted.He was shot in the upper part of the thigh.After the first surprise and fright were over they laughed at him again.But Monsieur Lavigne appeared on the threshold of the forester'sdwelling. He had formed his plan of attack. He called in a loud voice"I want Planchut, the plumber, and his workmen."Three men approached."Take the eavestroughs from the roof."In a quarter of an hour they brought the commandant thirty yards ofpipes.Next, with infinite precaution, he had a small round hole drilled in thetrap-door; then, making a conduit with the troughs from the pump to thisopening, he said, with an air of extreme satisfaction"Now we'll give these German gentlemen something to drink."A shout of frenzied admiration, mingled with uproarious laughter, burstfrom his followers. And the commandant organized relays of men, who wereto relieve one another every five minutes. Then he commanded:"Pump!!!And, the pump handle having been set in motion, a stream of watertrickled throughout the length of the piping, and flowed from step tostep down the cellar stairs with a gentle, gurgling sound.They waited.An hour passed, then two, then three.The commandant, in a state of feverish agitation, walked up and down thekitchen, putting his ear to the ground every now and then to discover, ifpossible, what the enemy were doing and whether they would sooncapitulate.The enemy was astir now. They could be heard moving the casks about,talking, splashing through the water.Then, about eight o'clock in the morning, a voice came from the vent-hole"I want to speak to the French officer."Lavigne replied from the window, taking care not to put his head out toofar:"Do you surrender?""I surrender.""Then put your rifles outside."A rifle immediately protruded from the hole, and fell into the snow, thenanother and another, until all were disposed of. And the voice which hadspoken before said:"I have no more. Be quick! I am drowned.""Stop pumping!" ordered the commandant.And the pump handle hung motionless.Then, having filled the kitchen with armed and waiting soldiers, heslowly raised the oaken trapdoor.Four heads appeared, soaking wet, four fair heads with long, sandy hair,and one after another the six Germans emerged--scared, shivering anddripping from head to foot.They were seized and bound. Then, as the French feared a surprise, theyset off at once in two convoys, one in charge of the prisoners, and theother conducting Maloison on a mattress borne on poles.They made a triumphal entry into Rethel.Monsieur Lavigne was decorated as a reward for having captured a Prussianadvance guard, and the fat baker received the military medal for woundsreceived at the hands of the enemy.
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