, and that he had rallied with them. Then there
was greater confidence, but still prudent men were silent in view of
what might happen.

On the 21st of March, between five and six in the evening, Mr. Goulden
and I were at work; it had begun to grow dark, and Catherine was
lighting the lamp, a gentle rain was falling on the panes, when
Theodore Roeber, who had charge of the telegraph, passed under our
windows, riding a big dapple-gray horse at the top of his speed, his
blouse filled out by the air, he went so fast, and he was holding his
great felt hat on with one hand, while he kept striking his horse with
a whip which he held in the other, though he was galloping like the
wind. Father Goulden wiped the glass and leaned over to see better,
and said:

"That is Roeber, who is coming from the telegraph, some great news has
arrived." His pale cheeks reddened, and I felt my heart beat
violently. Catherine came and placed the lamp near us, and I opened
the window to close the shutter. That took me some moments, as I was
obliged to disarrange the glasses on the work-table, and take down the
watches before I could do it. Mr. Goulden seemed lost in thought.
Just as I had fastened the window, we heard the assembly beat from both
sides of the city at once, from the bastion of the Mittelbronn and from
Bigelberg, the echoes from the ramparts and from the target valley
responded, and a dull rumbling filled the air, Mr. Goulden rose, saying:

"The matter is decided at last," in a tone which made me shudder.
"Either they are fighting near Paris, or the Emperor is in his old
palace as he was in 1809."

Catherine ran for his cloak, for she saw plainly he was going out in
spite of the rain. He was speaking with his great gray eyes wide open,
and took no notice as she slipped on the sleeves, and as he went out
Catherine touched me on the shoulder--I was still sitting--and said:

"Go, Joseph, follow him."

We reached the square just as the battalion filed out of the broad
street at the corner by the mayor's, behind the drummers, who had their
drums over their shoulders. A great crowd followed them. When they
reached the great lindens, the drums recommenced, and the soldiers
hurriedly got into their ranks, and almost immediately the Commandant
Gemeau, who was suffering from his wounds and had not been out for two
months appeared on the steps of the "Minque." A sapper held his horse
by the bridle, and gave him his shoulder to