`I stand aside, messieurs, by my heap of
stones, to see the soldiers and their prisoner pass (for it is a solitary road,
that, where any spectacle is well worth looking at), and at first, as they
approach, I see no more than that they are six soldiers with a tall man bound,
and that they are almost black to my sight--except on the side of the sun going
to bed where they have a red edge, messieurs. Also, I see that their long
shadows are on the hollow ridge on the opposite side of the road, and are on
the hill above it, and are like the shadows of giants. Also, I see that they
are covered with dust, and that the dust moves with them as they come, tramp,
tramp! But when they advance quite near to me, I recognise the tall man, and he
recognises me. Ah, but he would be well content to precipitate himself over the
hillside once again, as on the evening when he and I first encountered, close
to the same spot!'
He described it as if he were there, and it
was evident that he saw it vividly; perhaps he had not seen much in his life.
`I do not show the soldiers that I
recognise the tall man; he does not show the soldiers that he recognises me; we
do it, and we know it, with our eyes. ``Come on!'' says the chief of that
company, pointing to the village, ``bring him fast to his tomb!'' and they
bring him faster. I follow. His arms are swelled because of being bound so
tight, his wooden shoes are large and clumsy, and he is lame. Because he is
lame, and consequently slow, they drive him with their guns--like this!'
He imitated the action of a man's being
impelled forward by the butt-ends of muskets.
`As they descend the hill like madmen
running a race, he falls. They laugh and pick him up again. His face is
bleeding and covered with dust, but he cannot touch it; thereupon they laugh
again. They bring him into the village; all the village runs to look; they take
him past the mill, and up to the prison; all the village sees the prison gate
open in the darkness of the night, and swallow him--like this!'
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