evening of the fourth day, as we were finishing our supper, an
old man in a great-coat came in. His hair was white, and his mien and
appearance neat and respectable. He saluted us, and then said to the
master of the house, in German:

"These are recruits?"

"Yes, Monsieur Stenger," replied the other, "we will never be rid of
them. If I could poison them all, it would be a good deed."

I turned quietly, and said:

"I understand German: do not speak in such a manner."

The postmaster's pipe fell from his hand.

"You are very imprudent in your speech, Monsieur Kalkreuth," said the
old man; "if others beside this young man had understood you, you know
what would happen."

"It is only my way of talking," replied the postmaster. "What can you
expect? When everything is taken from you--when you are robbed, year
after year--it is but natural that you should at last speak bitterly."

The old man, who was none other than the pastor of Schweinheim, then
said to me:

"Monsieur, your manner of acting is that of an honest man; believe me
that Monsieur Kalkreuth is incapable of such a deed--of doing evil even
to our enemies."

"I do believe it, sir," I replied, "or I should not eat so heartily of
these sausages."

The postmaster, hearing these words, began to laugh, and, in the excess
of his joy, cried:

"I would never have thought that a Frenchman could have made me laugh."

My two comrades were ordered for guard duty; they went, but I alone
remained. Then the postmaster went after a bottle of old wine, and
seated himself at the table to drink with me, which I gladly agreed to.
From that day until our departure, these people had every confidence in
me. Every evening we chatted at the corner of the fire; the pastor
came, and even the young girls would come downstairs to listen. They
were of fair and light complexion, with blue eyes; one was perhaps
eighteen, the other twenty; I thought I saw in them a resemblance to
Catharine, and this made my heart beat.

They knew that I had a sweetheart at home, because I could not help
telling them so, and this made them pity me.

The postmaster complained bitterly of the French, the pastor said they
were a vain, immoral nation, and that on that account all Germany would
soon rise against us; that they were weary of the evil doings of our
soldiers and the cupidity of our generals, and had formed the
_Tugend-Bund_[1] to oppose us.

[1] League of virtue.

"At firs