“Comrades of the Fourth, we have found an old companion; the Père Scapulaire is here. Place for the good father! place there!” A hundred loud _vivas_ welcomed this announcement; for the name was well known to many who never had seen the priest, and cheer after cheer for the _bon père_ now rang through this motley assemblage. To the wild confusion of a moment before the regularity of discipline at once succeeded, and a lane was quickly formed for the soldiers to advance with the priest between them, each horseman saluting as he passed as if to his general on parade. “To the Trauben,--the Trauben!” cried several voices, as we went along; and this I learned was the little inn of the village, where the non-commissioned officers in charge of the several parties were seated in council to arrange the subdivision of the booty. Had not a feeling stronger than mere personal consideration occupied me, I would have now left the good priest among his old comrades, with whom he was certain to meet kindness and protection. But I could not so readily part with one whom, even in the few hours of our intercourse, I had learned to like; and therefore, enduring as well as I was able the rugged insubordination of a soldiery free from the restraint of discipline, I followed on, and soon found myself at the door of the Trauben. A dismounted dragoon, with drawn sword, guarded the entrance, around which a group of angry peasants were gathered, loudly protesting against the robbery of their flocks and farmyards. It was with great difficulty I could persuade the sentry to suffer me to enter; and when I at last succeeded, I found none willing to pay any attention to my request regarding a billet for the priest, for unhappily his name and character were unknown to those to whom I addressed myself. In this dilemma I was deliberating what step to take, when one of the soldiers, who with such zealous devotion had never left us, came up to say that his corporal had just given up his own quarters for the good father's use; and this, happily, was a small summer-house in the garden at the back of the inn. “He cannot come with us himself,” said the soldier, “for he is engaged with the forage rations, but I have got his leave to take the quarters.” A small wicket beside the inn led us into a large, wildly-grown orchard, through which a broad path led to the summer-house in question; at least such we guessed to be the little building from whose windows there gleamed the bright glare of a cheerful fire. The door lay open into a little hall, from which two doors led into different chambers. Over one of these was marked in chalk “quartier-général,” in imitation of the title assigned to a general's quarters, and this the soldiers pronounced must belong to the corporal. I opened it accordingly and entered. The room was small and neatly furnished, and with the blazing wood upon the hearth, looked most comfortable and inviting.