"To your health, citizen. Might you, perchance, be Gaspard's father?" "No; I am only a relative." "Well, you can boast of being solidly built in your family. What a man he is for a youth of twenty! He held firm while those around were sent by dozens to mount guard below." "But," said Hullin, after a moment's silence, "I do not yet see what there was so extraordinary in this last campaign, for we, too, had our sickness and traitors--" "Extraordinary!" cried the sergeant; "everything was extraordinary. Formerly, you know, a German war was finished after a victory or two; the people then received you well; drank their white wine and munched their sauerkraut with you; and, when the regiment departed, every one even wept. But this time, after Lutzen and Bautzen, instead of becoming good-natured, they grew fiercer than ever: we could obtain nothing except by force; it was like Spain or La Vendée. I don't know what made them hate us so. {31} But if we were all French, things would after all have yet gone well; but we had our Saxon and other allies ready to fly at our throats. We could have beaten the enemy, even if they were five to one, but for our allies. Look at Leipsic, where in the middle of the fight they turned against us--I mean our good friends the Saxons. A week after, our other good friends the Bavarians tried to cut off our retreat; but they rued it at Hanau. The next day, near Frankfort, another column of our good friends presented themselves, but we crushed the traitors. If we only foresaw all this after Austerlitz, Jena, Friedland, Wagram!" Hullin stood for a moment silent and thoughtful. "And how do we stand now, sergeant?" said he, at length. "We have been driven across the Rhine, and all our fortresses on the German side are blockaded. All Europe is advancing upon us. The emperor is at Paris, arranging his plan of campaign. Would to heaven we could get breathing time until the spring!" At this moment Wittmann arose, and, going to the window, said: "Here comes the governor, making his tour of inspection." The commandant Jean-Pierre Meunier, in his three-cocked hat, with a tri-colored sash around his waist, had indeed just made his appearance in the street. "Ah!" said the sergeant, "I must get him to sign my marching papers. Excuse me, messieurs, I must leave you." "Good-by, then, sergeant, and thank you. If you see Gaspard, embrace him for Jean-Claude Hullin, and tell him to write." "I shall not fail." The sergeant departed, and Hullin emptied his glass. "Do you intend to start at once, Jean-Claude?" asked Wittmann. "Yes, the days are growing short, and the road through the wood is not easily found after dark. Adieu!" The innkeeper watched the old mountaineer from the window, as he crossed the street, and muttered as he gazed at the retreating figure: