When he sank down upon the bench he realized that he was tired through
and through. It was no light task even for a hardened soldier to walk
all day in bad weather. One of the cooks, a stout middle-aged woman whom
the others called Johanna, gave him a glance of sympathy. She saw a
young man pale from great exertion, but with a singularly fine face, a
face that was exceedingly strong, without being coarse or rough. Johanna
thought him handsome, and so did the other cook, also stout and
middle-aged, who bore the French name of Nanine.

"Poor young man!" said one and, "Poor young man!" repeated the other.
Then they filled a plate with warm food and handed it to him. While he
ate he talked with them and the passing maids, who were full of interest
in the handsome young stranger. He told them that he was a horse-trader,
and that he had been in no battle, nor would he be in any, but he saw
that he was not believed, and secretly he was glad of it. These were
trim young maids and a young soldier likes admiration, even if it comes
from those who in the world's opinion are of a lower rank than he.

They asked him innumerable questions, and he answered as well as he
could. He told of the troops that he had seen, and they informed him
that German forces had been passing there at times all through the
winter. Princes and great generals had stopped at the farmhouse of Herr
Gratz or Monsieur Gratz, as he was indifferently called. The war had
ruined many others, but it brought profit to him, because all the guests
paid and paid well.

John in a pleased and restful state listened, and he was soothed by the
sound of their voices. He had often heard old men at home, veterans of
the Civil War, tell how grateful to them was the sight of a woman after
months of marching and fighting. Now he understood. These were only