y mother stand up in the
first waggon, with all those happy ones fluttering around her. 'My son,'
she said, 'I have discharged the trust that was given me. I bring thee
back the blessing of God.' 'And God bless thee, my mother!' I cried. The
other men, who were fathers, like me, came round me, crowding to kiss
her hand. It is not among the women of my family that you will find
those who abandon their duties.

And then to lift them down in armfuls, those flowers of paradise, all
fresh with the air of the fields, all joyous like the birds! We put them
down by twos and threes, some of us sobbing with joy. And to see them
dispersing hand in hand, running here and there, each to its home,
carrying peace, and love, and gladness, through the streets--that was
enough to make the most serious smile. No fear was in them, or care.
Every haggard man they met--some of them feverish, restless, beginning
to think of riot and pleasure after forced abstinence--there was a new
shout, a rush of little feet, a shower of soft kisses. The women were
following after, some packed into the carts and waggons, pale and worn,
yet happy; some walking behind in groups; the more strong, or the more
eager, in advance, and a long line of stragglers behind. There was
anxiety in their faces, mingled with their joy. How did they know what
they might find in the houses from which they had been shut out? And
many felt, like me, that in the very return, in the relief, there was
danger. But the children feared nothing; they filled the streets with
their dear voices, and happiness came back with them. When I felt my
little Jean's cheek against mine, then for the first time did I know how
much anguish I had suffered--how terrible was parting, and how sweet was
life. But strength and prudence melt away when one indulges one's self,
even in one's dearest affections. I had to call my guardians together,
to put mastery upon myself, that a just vigilance might not be relaxed.
M. de Bois-Sombre, though less anxious than myself, and disposed to
believe (being a soldier) that a little license would do no harm, yet
stood by me; and, thanks to our precautions, all went well.

Before night three parts of the population had returned to Semur, and
the houses were all lighted up as for a great festival. The Cathedral
stood open--even the great west doors, which are only opened on great
occasions--with a glow of tapers gleaming out on every side. As I stood
in the twilight w