the four horsemen of the apocalypse-第58节
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m both French and English； repeating the triumph of Sedan； whose anniversary they were going to celebrate in a few days！ They were going to enter Paris； it was only a matter of a week。 Paris！ Great shops filled with luxurious things； famous restaurants； women； champagne； money。 。 。 。 And the men； flattered that their commanders were stooping to chat with them； forgot fatigue and hunger； reviving like the throngs of the Crusade before the image of Jerusalem。 〃Nach Paris！〃 The joyous shout circulated from the head to the tail of the marching columns。 〃To Paris！ To Paris！〃
The scarcity of their food supply was here supplemented by the products of a country rich in wines。 When sacking houses they rarely found eatables； but invariably a wine cellar。 The humble German； the perpetual beer drinker； who had always looked upon wine as a privilege of the rich； could now open up casks with blows from his weapons； even bathing his feet in the stream of precious liquid。 Every battalion left as a souvenir of its passing a wake of empty bottles； a halt in camp sowed the land with glass cylinders。 The regimental trucks； unable to renew their stores of provisions； were accustomed to seize the wine in all the towns。 The soldier； lacking bread； would receive alcohol。 。 。 。
This donation was always accompanied by the good counsels of the officersWar is war； no pity toward our adversaries who do not deserve it。 The French were shooting their prisoners； and their women were putting out the eyes of the wounded。 Every dwelling was a den of traps。 The simple…hearted and innocent German entering therein was going to certain death。 The beds were made over subterranean caves； the wardrobes were make…believe doors； in every corner was lurking an assassin。 This traitorous nation； which was arranging its ground like the scenario of a melodrama； would have to be chastised。 The municipal officers； the priests； the schoolmasters were directing and protecting the sharpshooters。
Desnoyers was shocked at the indifference with which these men were stalking around the burning village。 They did not appear to see the fire and destruction； it was just an ordinary spectacle； not worth looking at。 Ever since they had crossed the frontier； smoldering and blasted villages； fired by the advance guard； had marked their halting places on Belgian and French soil。
When entering Villeblanche the automobile had to lower its speed。 Burned walls were bulging out over the street and half…charred beams were obstructing the way； obliging the vehicle to zigzag through the smoking rubbish。 The vacant lots were burning like fire pans between the houses still standing； with doors broken； but not yet in flames。 Desnoyers saw within these rectangular spaces partly burned wood； chairs； beds； sewing machines； iron stoves； all the household goods of the well…to…do countryman； being consumed or twisted into shapeless masses。 Sometimes he would spy an arm sticking out of the ruins； beginning to burn like a long wax candle。 No； it could not be possible 。 。 。 and then the smell of cooking flesh began to mingle with that of the soot； wood and plaster。
He closed his eyes； not able to look any longer。 He thought for a moment he must be dreaming。 It was unbelievable that such horrors could take place in less than an hour。 Human wickedness at its worst he had supposed incapable of changing the aspect of a village in such a short time。
An abrupt stoppage of the motor made him look around involuntarily。 This time the obstruction was the dead bodies in the streettwo men and a woman。 They had probably fallen under the rain of bullets from the machine gun which had passed through the town preceding the invasion。 Some soldiers were seated a little beyond them； with their backs to the victims； as though ignoring their presence。 The chauffeur yelled to them to clear the track； with their guns and feet they pushed aside the bodies still warm； at every turn leaving a trail of blood。 The space was hardly opened before the vehicle shot through 。 。 。 a thud； a leapthe back wheels had evidently crushed some very fragile obstacle。
Desnoyers was still huddled in his seat； benumbed and with closed eyes。 The horror around him made him think of his own fate。 Whither was this lieutenant taking him？ 。 。 。
He soon saw the town hall flaming in the square； the church was now nothing but a stone shell； bristling with flames。 The houses of the prosperous villagers had had their doors and windows chopped out by axe…blows。 Within them soldiers were moving about methodically。 They entered empty…handed and came out loaded with furniture and clothing。 Others； in the upper stories； were flinging out various objects； accompanying their trophies with jests and guffaws。 Suddenly they had to come out flying； for fire was breaking out with the violence and rapidity of an explosion。 Following their footsteps was a group of men with big boxes and metal cylinders。 Someone at their head was pointing out the buildings into whose broken windows were to be thrown the lozenges and liquid streams which would produce catastrophe with lightning rapidity。
Out of one of these flaming buildings two men； who seemed but bundles of rags； were being dragged by some Germans。 Above the blue sleeves of their military cloaks Don Marcelo could distinguish blanched faces and eyes immeasurably distended with suffering。 Their legs were dragging on the ground； sticking out between the tatters of their red pantaloons。 One of them still had on his kepis。 Blood was gushing from different parts of their bodies and behind them； like white serpents； were trailing their loosened bandages。 They were wounded Frenchmen； stragglers who had remained in the village because too weak to keep up with the retreat。 Perhaps they had joined the group which； finding its escape cut off； had attempted that insane resistance。
Wishing to make that matter more clearly understood； Desnoyers looked at the official beside him； attempting to speak； but the officer silenced him instantly： 〃French sharpshooters in disguise who are going to get the punishment they deserve。〃 The German bayonets were sunk deep into their bodies。 Then blows with the guns fell on the head of one of them 。 。 。 and these blows were repeated with dull thumps upon their skulls； crackling as they burst open。
Again the old man wondered what his fate would be。 Where was this lieutenant taking him across such visions of horror？ 。 。 。
They had reached the outskirts of the village； where the dragoons had built their barricade。 The carts were still there； but at one side of the road。 They climbed out of the automobile； and he saw a group of officers in gray； with sheathed helmets like the others。 The one who had brought him to this place was standing rigidly erect with one hand to his visor； speaking to a military man standing a few paces in front of the others。 He looked at this man； who was scrutinizing him with his little hard blue eyes that had carved his spare； furrowed countenance with lines。 He must be the general。 His arrogant and piercing gaze was sweeping him from head to foot。 Don Marcelo felt a presentiment that his life was hanging on this examination； should an evil suggestion； a cruel caprice flash across this brain； he was surely lost。 The general shrugged his shoulders and said a few words in a contemptuous tone； then entered his automobile with two of his aids； and the group disbanded。
The cruel uncertainty； the interminable moments before the official returned to his side； filled Desnoyers with dread。
〃His Excellency is very gracious；〃 announced the lieutenant。 〃He might have shot you； but he pardons you and yet you people say that we are savages！〃 。 。 。
With involuntary contempt； he further explained that he had conducted him thither fully expecting that he would be shot。 The General was planning to punish all the prominent residents of Villeblanche； and he had inferred； on his own initiative； that the owner of the castle must be one of them。
〃Military duty； sir。 。 。 。 War exacts it。〃
After this excuse the petty official renewed his eulogies of His Excellency。 He was going to make his headquarters in Don Marcelo's property； and on that account granted him his life。 He ought to thank him。 。 。 。 Then again his face trembled with wrath。 He pointed to some bodies lying near the road。 They were the corpses of Uhlans； covered with some cloaks from which were protruding the enormous soles of their boots。
〃Plain murder！〃 he exclaimed。 〃A crime for which the guilty are going to pay dearly！〃
His indignation made him consider the death of four soldiers as an unheard…of and monstrous outrageas though in was only the enemy ought to fall； keeping safe and sound the lives of his compatriots。
A band of infantry commanded by an officer approached。 As their ranks opened； Desnoyers saw the gray uniforms roughly pushing forward some of the inhabitants。 Their clothes were torn and some had blood on face and hands。 He recognized them one by one as they were lined up against the mud wall； at twenty paces from the firing squad of soldiersthe mayor； the priest； the forest guard； and some rich villagers whose houses he had seen f
