"One of these, named Delacroix, had been arrested in company with two workmen named Quentin and Reck, the latter a mason by trade, at the corner of the Rue de Bordeaux and la République, at the moment when the firing was the hottest in that quarter. Reck had been hit in the jaw and in the arm. The German soldiers entering the town found him bleeding in the road and with the singular, the unexplainable attitude of the German, at one moment cruel to the last degree, at the next of lamblike gentleness, these soldiers conducted the wounded man Reck to the 'prefecture,' _where his wounds were tenderly dressed by a German Major!_ "Quentin and Delacroix were taken at Chamont with revolvers in their hands, together with a stranger who was visiting the house of his sister, and two others, Benoit Decrens, a domestic servant, and Boullet, a laborer. "Up to eleven o'clock in the evening these unhappy captives were marched up and down the various streets and alleys of the village by their captors, until at length near the Bon Secours woods in a secluded spot, an officer ordered the mayor and the six captives to lie down on the grass. When this was done, he ordered the mayor, M. Odent, to rise and advance three paces. "The soldiers presented arms. "'You are the Mayor Odent?' called out the officer brusquely. "'Yes.' "'You have fired on our men?' "'No.' "'You have fired on our men,' insisted the ferocious voice, 'you are to be shot!' "M. Odent handed his papers to Benoit and shook hands with his companions. He then clasped his hands in prayer, after which he stood with eyes calmly fixed upon the officer. The officer raised his hands, motioning to the soldiers. "They shot the mayor with their revolvers.... "Afterwards, the officer made a little speech to the terrified men. "'War is as sad for us as it is for you. It is France and your Poincaré that you must blame--they would have it. We Germans do not make war upon civilians, but those who fire upon us will be promptly shot.' "These men were then used as guides by the officers, during their occupancy of the town. When no longer of use, _they disappeared._ "There were others, too; I do not know how many. There was little Gabanel, the son of the butcher, a merry little chap, known throughout the neighborhood, he disappeared with his father's old white horse and the red, two-wheeled wagon. He was never heard of again... and there was the baker's boy Jaudin, whose mutilated body was found in a field at Villers-St. Frambourg.... There was the hunchback Cottreau, aged seventeen, a harmless cripple who was found hanging in the attic of an inn.... "Arthur Rigault, the stone cutter, Elisée Pommier, aged 67 years.... "Jean Barbier, wagon driver.... "Pierre Dewart, chauffeur. "None of these can ever relate their terrible stories. We shall never know what happened to them." THE CHATEAU OF GÈRBÉVILLER