And you, poor youth ?' 'I am wounded in the head,' said I, 'and I want your pillow: give it me--I've a clasp-knife in my pocket!' and with this I gave him a terrible look, meaning to say (and mean it I did, for look you, A LA GUERRE C'EST A LA GUERRE, and I am none of your milksops) that, unless he yielded me the accommodation, I would give him a taste of my steel.
'I would give it thee without any threat, friend,' said the yellow-haired man meekly, and handed me over his little sack of straw.
He then leaned himself back as comfortably as he could against the cart, and began repeating, 'Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott,' by which I concluded that I had got into the company of a parson.

With the jolts of the waggon, and accidents of the journey, various more exclamations and movements of the passengers showed what a motley company we were.

Every now and then a countryman would burst into tears; a French voice would be heard to say, 'O mon Dieu!--mon Dieu!' a couple more of the same nation were jabbering oaths and chattering incessantly; and a certain allusion to his own and everybody else's eyes, which came from a stalwart figure at the far corner, told me that there was certainly an Englishman in our crew.
But I was spared soon the tedium and discomforts of the journey.

In spite of the clergyman's cushion, my head, which was throbbing with pain, was brought abruptly in contact with the side of the waggon; it began to bleed afresh: I became almost light-headed.

I only recollect having a draught of water here and there; once stopping at a fortified town, where an officer counted us:--all the rest of the journey was passed in a drowsy stupor, from which, when I awoke, I found myself lying in a hospital bed, with a nun in a white hood watching over me.
'They are in sad spiritual darkness,' said a voice from the bed next to me, when the nun had finished her kind offices and retired: 'they are in the night of error, and yet there is the light of faith in those poor creatures.' It was my comrade of the crimp waggon, his huge broad face looming out from under a white nightcap, and ensconced in the bed beside.
'What! you there, Herr Pastor ?' said I.
'Only a candidate, sir,' answered the white nightcap.