The soldiers fell into their ranks, Commandant Gemeau, who had only just recovered from his wounds, drew his sword, and gave the order to form square.

M. Goulden and I got on a bench to listen; we knew that the fate of France depended on the message we were to hear.

“Present arms!” called out the commandant in the same clear voice which had bidden us at Luetzen and Leipzig, “Close up your ranks!”

Then came the news we had been waiting for.

“Soldiers, his Majesty Louis XVIII. left Paris on March 20, and the Emperor Napoleon entered the capital the same day.”

For a second there was a dead silence, and then the commandant spoke of the banner of France, the banner of Marengo, Austerlitz, and Jena, stained with our blood; and the old sergeant drew out the tattered tricolour flag from its case.

“I know no other flag!” cried the commandant, raising his sword.  “Vive la France!  Vive l’Empereur!”

What a shout there was of “Vive l’Empereur!  Vive la France!” at this.  The people and the soldiers embraced one another, and that night and for the next five or six days there was, if anything, even more rejoicing than there had been on the return of Louis XVIII.  We still hoped for the continuance of peace, but who could say how long the peace would last?

Phalsbourg was ordered to put itself into a state of defence, a large workshop was set up at the arsenal for the repairing of arms, and engineers and artillerymen came over from Metz to make earthworks in the fortifications.  It seemed to me that a large number of men would be required for all the guns and forts, and that my watchmaking days would soon be exchanged for active service.  I began to think that, after all, religious processions were better than being sent to fight against people one knew nothing about.

III.—­On the Road to Waterloo

Aunt Gredel had not been to see us for a month, and it was a great comfort to Catherine and me when one Sunday M. Goulden proposed that we should all three pay her a visit at Quatre Vents.  As soon as she saw us, Aunt Gredel rushed to kiss her daughter, and called out, “You are a good man, M. Goulden, better a thousand times than I am.  How glad I am to see you!  It doesn’t matter about being a Jacobin or anything else; the main thing is to have a good heart.”

It was not until the afternoon that M. Goulden explained that he had known for some days that I should be called up to rejoin my old regiment, and that he had arranged with the commandant of artillery that I should be received at the arsenal as a workman.  What relief this was to us, for I could not bear the thought of separation from Catherine.  So from that day I went to work at the arsenal, and Aunt Gredel came to see us again as she had been accustomed to do.

It can be guessed with what spirit I worked at the arsenal, and how pleased I was when the commandant expressed satisfaction at my work.  But I was not allowed to stop at Phalsbourg.