"War only concerns the soldiers. We countryfolk have done no wrong to
anybody, and we ought not to be afraid."
Four hours later, on descending one of the hills that bounded the valley
of the Marne, he saw afar the roofs of Villeblanche clustered around the
church, and further on, beyond a little grove, the slatey points of the
round towers of his castle.
The streets of the village were deserted. Only on the outer edges of the
square did he see some old women sitting as in the placid evenings
of bygone summers. Half of the neighborhood had fled; the others were
staying by their firesides through sedentary routine, or deceiving
themselves with a blind optimism. If the Prussians should approach,
what could they do to them? . . . They would obey their orders without
attempting any resistance, and it is impossible to punish people who
obey. . . . Anything would be preferable to losing the homes built by
their forefathers which they had never left.
In the square he saw the mayor and the principal inhabitants grouped
together. Like the women, they all stared in astonishment at the owner
of the castle. He was the most unexpected of apparitions. While so many
were fleeing toward Paris, this Parisian had come to join them and share
in their fate. A smile of affection, a look of sympathy began to appear
on the rough, bark-like countenances of the suspicious rustics.
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