Sorlé was waiting for me in great agitation. "Our poor sergeant has killed himself," said I; "may God forgive him!" And, sitting down, I could not help bursting into tears! XXI It is said with truth that misfortunes never come singly; one brings another in its train. The death of our good sergeant was, however, the last. That same day the enemy withdrew his outposts to six hundred yards from the city, the white flag was raised on the church, and the gates were opened. Now, Fritz, you know about our blockade. Should I tell you, in addition, about Baruch's coming, of Zeffen's cries, and the groanings of us all, when we had to say to the good man: "Our little David is dead--thou wilt never see him again!" No, it is enough! If we were to speak of all the miseries of war, and all their consequences in after years, there would be no end! I would rather tell you of my sons Itzig and Frômel, and of my Sâfel, who has gone to join them in America. If I should tell you of all the wealth they have acquired in that great country of freemen, of the lands they have bought, the money they have laid up, the number of grandchildren they have given me, and of all the blessings they have heaped upon Sorlé and myself, you would be full of astonishment and admiration. They have never allowed me to want for anything. The greatest pleasure I can give them is to wish for something; each of them wants to send it to me! They do not forget that by my prudent foresight I saved them from the war. I love them all alike, Fritz, and I say of them, like Jacob: "May the God of Abraham and Isaac, our fathers, the God which fed me all my life long unto this day, bless the lads; let them grow into a multitude in the midst of the earth, and their seed become a multitude of nations!"