1Out I set at once, taking my book with me, to read on the way; and so interesting did I find the adventures of “Emile,” that I found myself near my friend’s house actually without being aware of it.

2In the distance I could see M. Jean Baptiste superintending some postilions, who were putting fresh horses to a carriage. He was standing on the threshold of his door.

3Running up in a state of great excitement, I cried out, “Monsieur Jean Baptiste, it’s I!”

4“Well,” he said, laughing; “I am quite aware of the fact. What do you want, my boy?”

5“What do I want? Oh, I want to thank you, and to tell you that I will never be a keeper. The only calling worth following is that of a carpenter, and I mean to be one, Monsieur Drouet.”

6The carriage went off.

7“So you have been reading ‘Emile?’” he asked, taking me inside.

8“Yes; up to here.” And I showed him page 160 of the work.

9“Bravo!” said Monsieur Drouet. “But it is not enough to read; you must also understand.”

10“Of course, M. Jean Baptiste,” said I. “There are many things that I cannot understand, but I always look to you for an explanation.”

11“So you are come expressly for that?”

12“No, M. Jean Baptiste. Not expressly for that, but to thank you for your kindness. After my father, who gave me life—after my aunt and my uncle, who have fed me, I owe more to you than to any other person in the world; for has not Rousseau himself said that every man is born twice—first, physically, then intellectually? And it is you who have successfully brought me through this second birth.”

13I must pass over that afternoon of familiar intercourse with my mentor and my friend. Suffice it to say, that my new-born resolutions were strengthened, my eyes still more widely opened to my own wants and requirements; and when I set out on my return, I felt that, indeed, a path had been tracked for me across the yet untrodden wilderness of life.

14There are few landscapes so pretty in the middle of France as that which presents itself to the eye on arriving at the Forest of Argonne.

15This struck me as it had never done before, and I paused involuntarily to gaze at the scene.

16At this moment two travellers came towards me, followed by a carriage slowly toiling up the ascent.

17One of these strangers particularly attracted my attention. He might be about fifty years of age, of no great stature, but wiry and strongly built. He had a noble head, and his weather-beaten face was lit by the glance of an eagle. Had not the scar of a sabre wound sufficiently indicated his profession, I could have told he was a soldier from the unmistakable way in which he wore his civilian’s suit.

18His companion, younger and stouter, was likewise a soldier; but evidently not of the same standing.

19These two men halted a moment near me, less to look at the landscape than to continue an animated conversation, in which the elder sustained the principal part.

20“Yes, my dear Thévenot,” he said; “I will never give in on this point. If ever France is invaded by Montmedy and Verdun, it is here that we must meet the enemy; with 20,000 soldiers I’ll engage to stop a foe 80,000 strong. The Forest of Argonne is the Thermopylæ of France.”

21“That is to say. General,” replied the other, who looked like his aide-de-camp, “if the two or three roads through the forest could be defended as easily as this one; for it is quite evident that a couple of batteries with six guns each would make this defile impracticable.”

22“There are only two roads,” returned the General; “the one we are now pursuing, leading to Islettes; and the other, the Grand Prés road. Both these routes conjoin at Verdun.”

23“I thought there was a third—namely, the Chéne-Populeux road.”

24“I don’t think that road leads through the forest at all; but I will ask our driver.”

25The General did so.

26The bumpkin only shook his head.

27“I only know,” he said, “the road I’m accustomed to travel, and that’s not it. Beyond that, I can’t tell you anything; but,” he added, nodding towards me, “if you want to know all about this part of the country, why, there’s the nephew of Father Descharmes, who knows it all blindfold. Hilloa, boy! come and speak to these gentlemen!”

28I approached, cap in hand, for the look of the elder traveller inspired me with respect.

29“Friend,” said the General, seeing that I waited till he spoke to me; “we want to know where the Chéne-Populeux road leads from, and if it takes you through the forest, or round by the outskirts?”

30“It leads from Stenay, monsieur, takes round by the forest, and opens upon Voneg, at the River Aisne.”

31“Ah, now we have it, Thévenot; but as, so far as I can remember, the Chéne-Populeux road is only a narrow defile, I still hold my original opinion.”

32“Will you get in now, gentlemen?” asked the postilion. “My horses are well breathed by this time.”

33“Thank you, my young friend,” said the General, waving his hand towards me. But just as he had his foot on the step the distant sound of an alarm-bell, violently rung, came through the stillness.

34“What is that?” cried the General.

35“A fire at the village of Islettes,” said I. “Look! you can see the smoke above the trees!”

36And, without any further speculation, off I ran towards the village. The General called after me, but I did not stop to listen.

37However, before I had gone a hundred yards, the carriage rattled past me at a gallop. The General, evidently moved by a humane motive, was hastening, like myself, towards the scene of the catastrophe, where I soon arrived.

38All the village was astir, and I found the General and his companion had taken command of the rustics, just as they would of an army on the field of battle.

39The fire had broken out in the workshop of a cart-wright. The fiery element had attacked an adjacent shed full of wood, and threatened to reduce the neighboring house to ashes.

40Now, at Islettes, fire-engines were unknown, and I need scarcely say that handing along little buckets of water from the river was by no means an effectual remedy.

41“We must cut off the fire!” shouted the General.

42“But how?” returned the peasants.

43“I want somebody,” cried the General, “who will get up upon the roof of that shed, and cut away the principal support. The post will fall, and carry the roof with it.”

44“Oh, yes!” said a voice; “and the somebody in question will go down with the roof!”

45“Very likely!” acquiesced the General, calmly; “but the fire will be smothered, and the rest of the village saved.”

46At that moment, a certain passage from “Emile” flashed across my mind.

47“Give me an axe!” I cried. As I spoke, I saw one leaning against a house near which I was standing.

48I laid down my “Emile” and a dictionary which M. Jean Baptiste had given me; seized the axe, and rushed into the house adjacent to the shed. Already its inmates were carrying out all their little property, expecting every instant that their cottage would be in flames.

49Up the little wooden stairs I rushed, and scrambled out on the roof through a sort of trap-door.

50It was my first experience upon roofs; but as I had been accustomed to climbing trees up to any height, a promenade on the thatch was only child’s play.

51Below, all was hushed in anxiety. I could only hear the peculiar billow-like sounds of the flames, and the fall of the burning fragments as they gave way under the fire.

52Presently I found myself in a dense atmosphere of smoke and sparks. I was nearly stifled; but I knew that all eyes and hearts were fixed upon me, and that gave me strength to succeed or to die, as it might be.

53Supporting myself by the chimney, I commenced to cut away a hole round about the roof-tree.

54I was strong of my age, and could wield with dexterity the axe—that instrument of my adopted calling; but though at every blow the upright beam trembled—on the other hand, the advancing flame seemed to increase in volume.

55There was, in a word, a battle between me and the flame, and I felt proud to have an element for my foe. All at once, the gable-end fell in with a terrible crash; the other supports of the roof being weakened by my blows, gave way, and the roof itself fell, smothering, beneath the raging flames. I flung the axe away from me, and held on like grim death to my chimney. A whirlwind of smoke and fire blotted me from the crowd below, and, half suffocated as I was, I could still hear and understand their murmur of pain and anxiety.

56The crisis was over. With one last effort I struggled to my trap-door, and in another moment—I know not how—found myself safe and sound in the open air.

57Friendly arms embraced me, and looking up, I saw it was the General, who held in one hand my precious books. “My boy,” he said, “you are brave, and you read Rousseau: therefore I do not offer you a reward. But you will be a true man, and I embrace you.”

58And again he pressed me in his arms.

59By this time, my uncle, and, indeed, all the village, were at my side; and whilst I was receiving their congratulations, the General and his friend had departed. No one knew who they were.

60This was an important day in my life; for I had learnt to understand what was conveyed in that most beautiful of all human words—self-devotion.