The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Vol. 1 | Page 4

of man.
Small detachments now began knocking at the doors and then
disappearing into the houses. It was the occupation after the invasion. It
now behooved the vanquished to make themselves agreeable to the

victors.
After a while, the first alarms having subsided, a new sense of
tranquillity began to establish itself. In many families the Prussian
officer shared the family meals. Not infrequently he was a gentleman,
and out of politeness expressed his commiseration with France and his
repugnance at having to take part in such a war. They were grateful
enough to him for this sentiment--besides, who knew when they might
not be glad of his protection? By gaining his good offices one might
have fewer men to feed. And why offend a person on whom one was
utterly dependent? That would not be bravery but temerity, a quality of
which the citizens of Rouen could no longer be accused as in the days
of those heroic defenses by which the city had made itself famous.
Above all, they said, with the unassailable urbanity of the Frenchman,
it was surely permissible to be on politely familiar terms in private,
provided one held aloof from the foreign soldier in public. In the street,
therefore, they ignored one another's existence, but once indoors they
were perfectly ready to be friendly, and each evening found the
German staying longer at the family fireside.
The town itself gradually regained its wonted aspect. The French
inhabitants did not come out much, but the Prussian soldiers swarmed
in the streets. For the rest, the blue hussar officers who trailed their
mighty implements of death so arrogantly over the pavement did not
appear to entertain a vastly deeper grade of contempt for the simple
townsfolk than did the officers of the Chasseurs who had drunk in the
same cafés the year before. Nevertheless there was a something in the
air; something subtle and indefinable, an intolerably unfamiliar
atmosphere like a widely diffused odor--the odor of invasion. It filled
the private dwellings and the public places, it affected the taste of food,
and gave one the impression of being on a journey, far away from
home, among barbarous and dangerous tribes.
The conquerors demanded money--a great deal of money. The
inhabitants paid and went on paying; for the matter of that, they were
rich. But the wealthier a Normandy tradesman becomes, the more
keenly he suffers at each sacrifice each time he sees the smallest

particle of his fortune pass into the hands of another.
Two or three leagues beyond the town, however, following the course
of the river about Croisset Dieppedalle or Biessard, the sailors and the
fishermen would often drag up the swollen corpse of some uniformed
German, killed by a knife-thrust or a kick, his head smashed in by a
stone, or thrown into the water from some bridge. The slime of the
river bed swallowed up many a deed of vengeance, obscure, savage,
and legitimate; unknown acts of heroism, silent onslaughts more
perilous to the doer than battles in the light of day and without the
trumpet blasts of glory.
For hatred of the Alien is always strong enough to arm some intrepid
beings who are ready to die for an Idea.
At last, seeing that though the invaders had subjected the city to their
inflexible discipline they had not committed any of the horrors with
which rumor had accredited them throughout the length of their
triumphal progress, the worthy tradespeople took heart of grace and the
commercial spirit began once more to stir within them. Some of them
who had grave interests at stake at Havre, then occupied by the French
army, purposed trying to reach that port by going overland to Dieppe
and there taking ship.
They took advantage of the influence of German officers whose
acquaintance they had made, and a passport was obtained from the
general in command.
Having therefore engaged a large diligence with four horses for the
journey, and ten persons having entered their names at the livery stable
office, they resolved to start on the Tuesday morning before daybreak,
to avoid all public remark.
For some days already the ground had been hard with frost, and on the
Monday, about three o'clock in the afternoon, thick dark clouds coming
up from the north brought the snow, which fell without intermission all
the evening and during the whole night.

At half past four the travelers were assembled in the courtyard of the
Hotel de Normandie, from whence they were to start.
They were all still half asleep, their teeth chattering with cold in spite
of their thick wraps. It was difficult to distinguish one from another in
the darkness, their heaped-up winter clothing making them look like fat
priests in long cassocks. Two of the men, however, recognized each