And what had become of Jacob in the midst of this misery? And Jean Baptiste Werner? I am obliged to mention him too, for God knows what madness was possessing Gredel at the thought that he might be suffering hunger: she was no longer human; she was a mad creature without control over herself, and she often made me wonder at the meek patience of the Landwehr. When one or another wanted to ask her for anything, she would show them the door, crying: "Go out; this is not your place!" She even openly wished them all to be massacred; and then she would say to them, in mockery: "Go, then! attack the town! ... go and storm the place! ... You don't dare! ... You are afraid for your skin! You had rather starve people, bombard women and children, burn the houses of poor creatures, hiding yourselves behind your heaps of clay! You must be cowards to set to work that way. If ours were out, and you were in, they would have been a dozen times upon the walls: but you are afraid of getting your ribs stove in! You are prudent men!" And they, seated at our door, with their heads hanging down, spoke not a word, but went on smoking, as if they did not hear. Yet one day these peaceable men showed a considerable amount of indignation, not against Gredel or us, but against their own generals. It was some time after the capture of Metz. The cold weather had set in. Our Landwehr returning from mounting guard were squeezed around the stove, and outside lay the first fall of snow. And as they were sitting thus, thinking of nothing but eating and drinking, the bugle blew outside a long blast and a loud one, the echoes of which died far away in the distant mountains. An order had arrived to buckle on their knapsacks, shoulder their rifles, and march for Orleans at once. You should have seen the long, dismal faces of these fellows. You should have heard them protesting that they were Landwehr, and could not be made to leave German provinces. I believe that if there had been at that moment a sortie of fifty men from Phalsbourg, they would have given themselves up prisoners, every one, to remain where they were. But Captain Floegel, with his red nose and his harsh voice, had come to give the word of command, "Fall in!" They had to obey. So there they stood in line before our mill, three or four hundred of them, and were then obliged to march up the hill to Mittelbronn, whilst the villagers, from their windows, were crying, "A good riddance!" It was supposed, too, that the blockade of Phalsbourg would be raised, and everybody was preparing baskets, bags, and all things needful to carry victuals to our poor lads. Gredel, who was most unceremonious, had her own private basket to carry. It was quite a grand removal. But where did this order to march come from? What was the meaning of it all?