The twilight outside, cold and gray, was deepening into night. His
appetite was satisfied and he felt buoyant and strong. Had he obeyed his
impulse he would have started on the road to Metz in pursuit. But he
knew that it was folly to exhaust himself in such a manner for nothing.
Instead he told Johanna that he would go to the stable now and sleep.
Jacques, a stalwart hostler, was called to show him his quarters, and he
departed with all their good wishes.

Jacques was a large brown peasant, and as he led the way to the stable
he said:

"They told me your name was Jean Castel from Lorraine?"

"Yes, back of Metz."

"And the house is full of German officers."

He pointed to the windows of the dining-room, which were ruddy with
light. Young men in tight-fitting uniforms, their blond hair
pompadoured, were outlined vividly against the glow.

"Will they go forward or will they come back?" asked Jacques in a hoarse
whisper. "Is the work of Bismarck to stand or is it to undo itself?"

John believed Jacques to be a French sympathizer, anxious for an opinion
that would agree with his hopes, but one could not be sure in such
times, and it behooved him above all, with Julie at the end of his
journey, to be careful. So he merely shrugged his shoulders and replied:

"I know not. I'm a simple buyer and seller of horses. I'm a much better