But as soon as it grew dark he slowly emerged from the ditch and started
off, stooping and fearful, with beating heart, towards the distant
chateau, preferring to go there rather than to the village, which seemed
to him as formidable as a den of tigers.

The lower windows were brilliantly lighted. One of them was open and from
it escaped a strong odor of roast meat, an odor which suddenly penetrated
to the olfactories and to the stomach of Walter Schnaffs, tickling his
nerves, making him breathe quickly, attracting him irresistibly and
inspiring his heart with the boldness of desperation.

And abruptly, without reflection, he placed himself, helmet on head, in
front of the window.

Eight servants were at dinner around a large table. But suddenly one of
the maids sat there, her mouth agape, her eyes fixed and letting fall her
glass. They all followed the direction of her gaze.

They saw the enemy!

Good God! The Prussians were attacking the chateau!

There was a shriek, only one shriek made up of eight shrieks uttered in
eight different keys, a terrific screaming of terror, then a tumultuous
rising from their seats, a jostling, a scrimmage and a wild rush to the
door at the farther end. Chairs fell over, the men knocked the women down
and walked over them. In two seconds the room was empty, deserted, and
the table, covered with eatables, stood in front of Walter Schnaffs, lost
in amazement and still standing at the window.