"Well, my good man," said he, "what do they say about the last campaign? What do the people in your village think about it?" On hearing him call me "my good man," I took courage, and answered "that the typhus had made bad work, but the people were not disheartened, because they knew that the Emperor with his army was at hand." And when he said abruptly: "Yes! But will they defend themselves?" I answered: "The Alsatians and the Lorraines are people who will defend themselves till death, because they love their Emperor, and they would all be willing to die for him!" I said that by way of prudence; but he could plainly see in my face that I was no fighting man, for he smiled good-humoredly, and said: "That will do, commandant, that is enough!" The secretaries had kept on writing. Zimmer made a sign to me and we went out together. When we were outside he called out: "Good-by, Moses, good-by!" The sentinels let me pass, and still trembling, I continued my journey. I was soon knocking at the little door of Baruch's house at the end of the lane where the cardinal's old stables were. It was pitch dark. What a joy it was, Fritz, after having seen all these terrible things, to come to the place where those I loved were resting! How softly my heart beat, and how I pitied all that power and glory which made so many people miserable! After a moment I heard my son-in-law enter the passage and open the door. Baruch and Zeffen had long since ceased expecting me. "Is it you, my father?" asked Baruch. "Yes, my son, it is I. I am late. I have been hindered." "Come!" said he. And we entered the little passage, and then into the chamber where Zeffen, my daughter, lay pale and happy, upon her bed. She had recognized my voice. As for me, my heart beat with joy; I could not speak; and I embraced my daughter, while I looked around to find the little one. Zeffen held it in her arms under the coverlet. "There he is!" she said. Then she showed him to me in his swaddling-clothes. I saw at once that he was plump and healthy, with his little hands closed tight, and I exclaimed: "Baruch, this is Esdras, my father! Let him be welcome!" I wanted to see him without his clothes, so I undressed him. It was warm in the little room from the lamp with seven burners. Tremblingly I undressed him; he did not cry, and my daughter's white hands assisted me: "Wait, my father, wait!" said she. My son-in-law looked on behind me. We all had tears in our eyes.