Waterloo: A sequel to The Conscript of 1813. Erckmann-Chatrian

old-fashioned clothes, and their fine manners and happy air, made a very good appearance, and we said to ourselves: "There are the Frenchmen returning from exile; they did wrong to go, and to excite all Europe against us, but there is mercy for every sin; may they be well and happy! That is the worst we wish them."

      Some of these émigrés returned by post, and then our new mayor, Mr. Jourdan, chevalier de St. Louis, the vicar, Mr. Loth, and the new commandant, Mr. Robert de la Faisanderie, in his embroidered uniform, would wait for them at the gate, and when they heard the postilion's whip crack they would go forward, smiling as if some great good fortune had arrived, and the moment the coach stopped, the commandant would run and open it, shouting most enthusiastically.

      At other times they would stand quite still to show their respect; I have seen these people salute each other three times in succession, slowly and gravely, each time approaching a little nearer to each other.

      Father Goulden would laugh and say: "Do you see, Joseph, that is the grand style – the style of the nobles of the ancien régime; by just looking out of the window we can learn fine manners which may serve us when we get to be dukes and princes." Again it would be: "Those old fellows, there, Joseph, fired away at us from the lines at Wissembourg, they were good riders and they fought well, as all Frenchmen do, but we routed them after all."

      Then he would wink and go back laughing to his work. But the rumor spread among the servants of the "Red Ox," that these people did not hesitate to say that they had conquered us, and that they were our masters; that King Louis XVIII. had always reigned since Louis XVII., son of Louis XVI.; that we were rebels, and that they had come to restore us to order.

      Father Goulden did not relish this, and said to me in an ill-humored way: "Do you know, Joseph, what these people are going to do in Paris? they are going to demand the restoration of their ponds and their forests, their parks and their chateaux, and their pensions, not to speak of the fat offices and honors and favors of every kind. You think their coats and perukes very old-fashioned, but their notions are still older than their coats and perukes. They are more dangerous for us than the Russians or the Austrians, because they are going away, but these people are going to remain. They would like to destroy all we have done for the last twenty-five years. You see how proud they are; though many of them lived in the greatest misery on the other side of the Rhine, yet they think they are of a different race from ours – a superior race; they believe the people are always ready to let themselves be fleeced as they were before '89. They say Louis XVIII. has good sense; so much the better for him, for if he is unfortunate enough to listen to these people, if they imagine even that he can act upon their advice, all is lost. There will be civil war. The people have thought, during the last twenty-five years. They know their rights, and they know that one man is as good as another, and that all their 'noble races' are nonsense. Each one will keep his property, each one will have equal rights and will defend himself to the death." That is what Father Goulden said to me, and as my permit never came, I thought the minister had no time to answer our demands with all these counts and viscounts, these dukes and marquises at his back, who were clamoring for their woods and their ponds and their fat offices. I was indignant.

      "Great God," I cried, "what misery! as soon as one misfortune is over another begins! and it is always the innocent who suffer for the faults of the others! O God! deliver us from the nobles, old and new! Crown them with blessings, but let them leave us in peace!"

      One morning Aunt Grédel came in to see us; it was on Friday and market-day. She brought her basket on her arm and seemed very happy. I looked toward the door, thinking that Catherine was coming too, and I said: "Good-morning, Aunt Grédel; Catherine is in town, she is coming too?"

      "No! Joseph, no; she is at Quatre Vents. We are over our ears in work on account of the planting."

      I was disappointed and vexed too, for I had anticipated seeing her. But Aunt Grédel put her basket on the table, and said as she lifted up the cover:

      "Look! here is something for you, Joseph, something from Catherine."

      There was a great bouquet of May roses, violets, and three beautiful lilacs with their green leaves around the edge. The sight of this made me happy, and I laughed and said: "How sweetly it smells." And Father Goulden turned round and laughed too, saying:

      "You see, Joseph, they are always thinking of you!"

      And we all laughed together. My good-humor had returned, and I kissed Aunt Grédel and told her to take it to Catherine from me.

      Then I put my bouquet in a vase on the window-sill by my bedside, and thought of Catherine going out in the early morning to gather the violets and the fresh roses and adding one after the other in the dew, putting in the lilacs last, and the odor seemed still more delightful. I could not look at them enough. I left them on the window-sill, thinking:

      "I shall enjoy them through the night, and shall give them fresh water in the morning, and the next day after will be Sunday and I shall see Catherine and thank her with a kiss."

      I went back into the room, where Aunt Grédel was talking to Father Goulden about the markets and the price of grain, etc., both in the best of humor. Aunt put her basket on the ground and said:

      "Well, Joseph, your permit has not come yet?"

      "No! not yet, and it is terrible!"

      "Yes," she replied, "the ministers are all alike, one is no better than another; they take the worst and laziest to fill that place."

      Then she went on: "Make yourself easy, I have a plan which will change all that." She laughed, and as Father Goulden and I listened to hear her plan, she continued:

      "Just now while I was at the town-hall, Sergeant Harmantier announced that we were to have a grand mass for the repose of the souls of Louis XVI., Pichegru, Moreau, and – another one."

      "Yes," interrupted Father Goulden, "for George Cadoudal, – I read it last evening in the gazette."

      "That is it, of Cadoudal," said Aunt Grédel. "You see, Joseph, hearing that, I thought at once, 'now we will have the permit.' We are going to have processions and atonements, and we will all go together, Joseph, Catherine, and I. We shall be the first, and everybody will say, 'They are good royalists, they are well disposed.' The priest will hear of it. Now the priests have long arms, as in the time of the generals and colonels, – we will go and see him, he will receive us favorably, and will even make a petition for us. And I tell you this will succeed, we shall not fail this time."

      She spoke quite low as she explained all this, and seemed well satisfied with her ingenuity. I felt happy too, and thought, "That is what we must do, Aunt Grédel is right." But on looking at Father Goulden, I saw he was very grave, and that he had turned away and was looking at a watch through his glass, and knitting his big white eyebrows. So, knowing he was not pleased, I said:

      "I think myself, that would succeed, but before we do anything I would like to have Father Goulden's opinion."

      Then he turned round and said:

      "Every one is free, Joseph, to follow his own conscience. To make an expiation for the death of Louis XVI. is all very well; honest people of all parties will have nothing to say, if they are royalists, of course; but if you kneel from self-interest, you had better stay at home. As for Louis XVI., I will let him pass, but for Pichegru, Moreau, and Cadoudal, – that is altogether another thing. Pichegru surrendered his troops to the enemy, Moreau fought against France, and George Cadoudal was an assassin, – three kinds of ambitious men, who asked for nothing but to oppress us, and all three deserved their fate. That is what I think."

      "But what has all that to do with us, pray?" exclaimed Aunt Grédel. "We will not go for them, we will go to get our permit. I despise all the rest, and so does Joseph, do you not?"

      I was greatly embarrassed, for what Father Goulden said seemed to me to be right, and he, seeing this, said:

      "I understand the love of young people, Mother Grédel, but we must not use such means to induce a young man to sacrifice what he thinks is right. If Joseph does not hold the same opinion as I do of Pichegru and Moreau and Cadoudal, very well, let him go to the procession. I shall not reproach him for it, but as for me, I shall not go."

      "I