. . To think that I, too, may
die!"
Desnoyers believed that he must be getting a glimpse into a romance of
the nobleman's past. That Hussar was undoubtedly his natural son. His
simplicity of mind could not conceive of anything else. Only a father's
tenderness could so express itself . . . and he was almost touched by
this tenderness.
Here the interview came to an end, the warrior turning his back as he
left the room in order to hide his emotion. A few minutes after was
heard on the floor below the sound of a grand piano which the Commissary
had not been able to carry off, owing to the general's interposition.
His voice was soon heard above the chords that he was playing. It was
rather a lifeless baritone, but he managed to impart an impassioned
tremolo to his romance. The listening old man was now really affected;
he did not understand the words, but the tears came into his eyes. He
thought of his family, of the sorrows and dangers about them and of the
difficulties surrounding his return to them. . . . As though under the
spell of the melody, little by little, he descended the stairs. What
an artist's soul that haughty scoffer had! . . . At first sight, the
Germans with their rough exterior and their discipline which made them
commit the greatest atrocities, gave one a wrong impression. One had to
live intimately with them to appreciate their true worth.
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