Paris, and that the remains of the French army were to be kept beyond
the Loire. We all felt that we had been betrayed, and the old officers,
pale with anger, wept in their misery. Paris in the hands of the
Prussians! Besides, were we to go to the other side of the Loire at the
command of Blücher?

Desertions began that very day, and I said to Buche, "Let us return to
Phalsbourg and Harberg, and take up our work, and live like honest men."
About fifty of us from Alsace-Lorraine were in the battalion, and we set
off together on the road to Strasbourg.

On July 8 we heard that Louis XVIII. was to come back, and already the
white banner of the Bourbons was being displayed in the villages.

In some places there were rascals who called us Buonapartists, and
gendarmes who took us to the town hall and made us shout "Vive le Roi!"
Buche and some of the old soldiers hated this; but what did it matter
who was king, and what these fools wanted us to shout?

Our little company got smaller and smaller as men halted in their own
villages, and when, on July 16, we reached Phalsbourg, Buche and I were
alone.

Buche went on to break the news of my return, but I could not wait, and
ran after him.

I heard people saying, "There's Joseph, Bertha," and in a moment I was
in the house, and in Catherine's arms. Then I embraced M. Goulden, and
an hour later Aunt Grédel arrived.