the four horsemen of the apocalypse-第60节

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stables　and　castle　rooms。

The　millionaire　felt　himself　linked　by　misfortune　to　these　people；　considered　until　then　with　indifference。　　He　was　very　grateful　for　the　loyalty　of　this　sick　and　humble　man；　and　the　poor　woman's　interest　in　the　castle　as　though　it　were　her　own；　touched　him　greatly。　　The　presence　of　their　daughter　brought　Chichi　to　his　mind。　He　had　passed　near　her　without　noting　the　transformation　in　her；　seeing　her　just　the　same　as　when；　with　her　little　dog　trot；　she　had　accompanied　the　Master's　daughter　on　her　rounds　through　the　parks　and　grounds。　　Now　she　was　a　woman；　slender　and　full　grown；　with　the　first　feminine　graces　showing　subtly　in　her　fourteen…year…old　figure。　　Her　mother　would　not　let　her　leave　the　lodge；　fearing　the　soldiery　which　was　invading　every　other　spot　with　its　overflowing　current；　filtering　into　all　open　places；　breaking　every　obstacle　which　impeded　their　course。

Desnoyers　broke　his　despairing　silence　to　admit　that　he　was　feeling　hungry。　　He　was　ashamed　of　this　bodily　want；　but　the　emotions　of　the　day；　the　executions　seen　so　near；　the　danger　still　threatening；　had　awakened　in　him　a　nervous　appetite。　　The　fact　that　he　was　so　impotent　in　the　midst　of　his　riches　and　unable　to　avail　himself　of　anything　on　his　estate　but　aggravated　his　necessity。

〃Poor　Master！〃　again　exclaimed　the　faithful　soul。

And　the　woman　looked　with　astonishment　at　the　millionaire　devouring　a　bit　of　bread　and　a　triangle　of　cheese；　the　only　food　that　she　could　find　in　her　humble　dwelling。　　The　certainty　that　he　would　not　be　able　to　find　any　other　nourishment；　no　matter　how　much　he　might　seek　it；　greatly　sharpened　his　cravings。　　To　have　acquired　an　enormous　fortune　only　to　perish　with　hunger　at　the　end　of　his　existence！　。　。　。　　The　good　wife；　as　though　guessing　his　thoughts；　sighed；　raising　her　eyes　beseechingly　to　heaven。　　Since　the　early　morning　hours；　the　world　had　completely　changed　its　course。　　Ay；　this　war！　。　。　。

The　rest　of　the　afternoon　and　a　part　of　the　night；　the　proprietor　kept　receiving　news　from　the　Keeper　after　his　visits　to　the　castle。　The　General　and　numerous　officers　were　now　occupying　the　rooms。　　Not　a　single　door　was　locked；　all　having　been　opened　with　blows　of　the　axe　or　gun。　　Many　things　had　completely　disappeared；　the　man　did　not　know　exactly　how；　but　they　had　vanishedperhaps　destroyed；　or　perhaps　carried　off　by　those　who　were　coming　and　going。　　The　chief　with　the　banded　sleeve　was　going　from　room　to　room　examining　everything；　dictating　in　German　to　a　soldier　who　was　writing　down　his　orders。　　Meanwhile　the　General　and　his　staff　were　in　the　dining　room　drinking　heavily；　consulting　the　maps　spread　out　on　the　floor；　and　ordering　the　Warden　to　go　down　into　the　vaults　for　the　very　best　wines。

By　nightfall；　an　onward　movement　was　noticeable　in　the　human　tide　that　had　been　overflowing　the　fields　as　far　as　the　eye　could　reach。　Some　bridges　had　been　constructed　across　the　Marne　and　the　invasion　had　renewed　its　march；　shouting　enthusiastically。　　〃Nach　Paris！〃　Those　left　behind　till　the　following　day　were　to　live　in　the　ruined　houses　or　the　open　air。　　Desnoyers　heard　songs。　　Under　the　splendor　of　the　evening　stars；　the　soldiers　had　grouped　themselves　in　musical　knots；　chanting　a　sweet　and　solemn　chorus　of　religious　gravity。　Above　the　trees　was　floating　a　red　cloud；　intensified　by　the　duska　reflection　of　the　still　burning　village。　　Afar　off　were　bonfires　of　farms　and　homesteads；　twinkling　in　the　night　with　their　blood…　colored　lights。

The　bewildered　proprietor　of　the　castle　finally　fell　asleep　in　a　bed　in　the　lodge；　made　mercifully　unconscious　by　the　heavy　and　stupefying　slumber　of　exhaustion；　without　fright　nor　nightmare。　　He　seemed　to　be　falling；　falling　into　a　bottomless　pit；　and　on　awaking　fancied　that　he　had　slept　but　a　few　minutes。　　The　sun　was　turning　the　window　shades　to　an　orange　hue；　spattered　with　shadows　of　waving　boughs　and　birds　fluttering　and　twittering　among　the　leaves。　　He　shared　their　joy　in　the　cool　refreshing　dawn　of　the　summer　day。　　It　certainly　was　a　fine　morningbut　whose　dwelling　was　this？　。　。　。　　He　gazed　dumbfounded　at　his　bed　and　surroundings。　　Suddenly　the　reality　assaulted　his　brain　that　had　been　so　sweetly　dulled　by　the　first　splendors　of　the　day。　　Step　by　step；　the　host　of　emotions　compressed　into　the　preceding　day；　came　climbing　up　the　long　stairway　of　his　memory　to　the　last　black　and　red　landing　of　the　night　before。　　And　he　had　slept　tranquilly　surrounded　by　enemies；　under　the　surveillance　of　an　arbitrary　power　which　might　destroy　him　in　one　of　its　caprices！

When　he　went　into　the　kitchen；　the　Warden　gave　him　some　news。　　The　Germans　were　departing。　　The　regiment　encamped　in　the　park　had　left　at　daybreak；　and　after　them　others；　and　still　others。　　In　the　village　there　was　still　one　regiment　occupying　the　few　houses　yet　standing　and　the　ruins　of　the　charred　ones。　　The　General　had　gone　also　with　his　numerous　staff。　　There　was　nobody　in　the　castle　now　but　the　head　of　a　Reserve　brigade　whom　his　aide　called　〃The　Count；〃　and　a　few　officials。

Upon　receiving　this　information；　the　proprietor　ventured　to　leave　the　lodge。　　He　saw　his　gardens　destroyed；　but　still　beautiful。　　The　trees　were　still　stately　in　spite　of　the　damage　done　to　their　trunks。　　The　birds　were　flying　about　excitedly；　rejoicing　to　find　themselves　again　in　possession　of　the　spaces　so　recently　flooded　by　the　human　inundation。

Suddenly　Desnoyers　regretted　having　sallied　forth。　　Five　huge　trucks　were　lined　up　near　the　moat　before　the　castle　bridge。　　Gangs　of　soldiers　were　coming　out　carrying　on　their　shoulders　enormous　pieces　of　furniture；　like　peons　conducting　a　moving。　　A　bulky　object　wrapped　in　damask　curtainsan　excellent　substitute　for　sackingwas　being　pushed　by　four　men　toward　one　of　the　drays。　　The　owner　suspected　immediately　what　it　must　be。　　His　bath！　　The　famous　tub　of　gold！　。　。　。　　Then　with　an　abrupt　revulsion　of　feeling；　he　felt　no　grief　at　his　loss。　　He　now　detested　the　ostentatious　thing；　attributing　to　it　a　fatal　influence。　　On　account　of　it　he　was　here。　But；　ay！　。　。　。　the　other　furnishings　piled　up　in　the　drays！　。　。　。　In　that　moment　he　suffered　the　extreme　agony　of　misery　and　impotence。　　It　was　impossible　for　him　to　defend　his　property；　to　dispute　with　the　head　thief　who　was　sacking　his　castle；　tranquilly　ignoring　the　very　existence　of　the　owner。　　〃Robbers！　thieves！〃　and　he　fled　back　to　the　lodge。

He　passed　the　remainder　of　the　morning　with　his　elbow　on　the　table；　his　head　in　his　hands；　the　same　as　the　day　before；　letting　the　hours　grind　slowly　by；　trying　not　to　hear　the　rolling　of　the　vehicles　that　were　bearing　away　these　credentials　of　his　wealth。

Toward　midday；　the　Keeper　announced　that　an　officer　who　had　arrived　a　few　hours　before　in　an　automobile　was　inquiring　for　him。

Responding　to　this　summons；　Desnoyers　encountered　outside　the　lodge；　a　captain　arrayed　like　the　others　in　sheathed　and　pointed　helmet；　in　mustard…colored　uniform；　red　leather　boots；　sword；　revolver；　field…　glasses　and　geographic　map　hanging　in　a　case　from　his　belt。　　He　appeared　young；　on　his　sleeve　was　the　staff　emblem。

〃Do　you　know　me？　。　。　。　　I　did　not　wish　to　pass　through　here　without　seeing　you。〃

He　spoke　in　Castilian；　and　Don　Marcelo　felt　greater　surprise　at　this　than　at　the　many　things　which　he　had　been　experiencing　so　painfully　during　the　last　twenty…four　hours。

〃You　really　do　not　know　me？〃　queried　the　German；　always　in　Spanish。　〃I　am　Otto。　。　。　。　　Captain　Otto　von　Hartrott。〃

The　old　man's　mind　went　painfully　down　the　staircase　of　memory；　stopping　this　time　at　a　far…distant　landing。　　There　he　saw　the　old　ranch；　and　his　brother…in…law　announcing　the　birth　of　his　second　son。　　〃I　shall　give　him　Bismarck's　name；〃　Karl　had　said。　　Then；　climbing　back　past　many　other　platforms；　Desnoyers　saw　himself　in　Berlin　during　his　visit　to　the　von　Hartrott　home　where　they　were　speaking　proudly　of　Otto；　almost　as　learned　as　the　older　brother；　but　devoting　his　talents　entirely　to　martial　matters。　　He　was　then　a　lieutenant　and　studying　for　admission　to　the　General　Staff。　　〃Who　knows　but　he　may　turn　out　to　be　another　Moltke？〃　said　the　proud　father　。　。　。　and　the　charming　Chichi　had　thereupon　promptly　bestowed　upon　the　warlike　wonder　a　nickname；　accepted　through　the　family。　From　that　time；　Otto　was　Moltkecito　（the　baby　Moltke）　to　his　Parisian　relatives。

Desnoyers　was　astounded　by　the　transformation　which　had　meanwhile　taken　place　in　the　youth。　　This　vigorous　captain　with　the　insolent　air　who　might　shoot　him　at　any　minute　was　the　same　urchin　whom　he　had　seen　running　around　the　ranch；　the　beardless　Moltkecito　who　had　been　the　butt　of　his　daughter's　ridicule。　。　。　。

The　soldier；　meanwhile；　was　explaining　his　presence　there。　　He　belonged　to　another　division。　　There　were　many　。　。　。　many！　　They　were　advancing　rapidly；　forming　an　extensive　and　solid　wall　from　Verdun　to　Paris。　　His　general　had　sent　him　to　maintain　the　contact　with　the　next　division；　but　finding　himself　near　the　castle；　he　had　wished　to　visit　it。　　A　family　tie　was　not　a　mere　word。　　He　still　remembered　the　days　that　he　had　spent　at　Villeblanche　when　the　Hartrott　family　had　paid　a　long　visit　to　their　relatives　in　France。　The　officials　now　occupying　the　edifice　had　detained　him