French girl Louise and German dragoons. Novel.

This story happened during Franco-Prussian War of 1870 at the remote Lorraine manor of Madame Charlotte De Sauveterre near the town of Lunéville.


Chapter 1

"Come here and look, uncle, the dragoons are coming!" she called from there in her clear voice. Madame Charlotte came with her brother into the tea-room, the windows of which overlooked the village, to see the dragoons. Very little was visible from the windows - only a crowd moving in a cloud of dust.
"It's a pity we have so little room, sister, and that the wing is not yet finished," said the old man to Madame Charlotte. "We might have invited the officers. Dragoon officers are such splendid, gay young fellows, you know. It would have been good to see something of them."
"Why of course, I should have been only too glad, brother; but you know yourself we have no room. There's my bedroom, Mademoiselle Louise's room, the drawing-room, and this room of yours, and that's all. Really now, where could we put them? The village elder's house has been cleaned up for them: Marcel Herriot says its quite clean now."
"And we could have chosen a bridegroom for you from among them, Louise - a fine dragoon!"
"I don't want a dragoon; I'd rather have a cuirassier. Weren't you in the cuirassiers, uncle? . . . I don't want to have anything to do with these dragoons. They are all said to be desperate fellows." And Mademoiselle Louise blushed a little but again laughed her musical laugh.
"Here comes Theresa running; we must ask her what she has seen," she added.
Madame Charlotte told her to call Theresa.
"It's not in you to keep to your work, you must needs run off to see the soldiers," said Madame Charlotte. "Well, where have the officers put up?"
"In Sauvageot's house, mistress. There are two of them, such handsome ones. One's a Graf, they say!"
"And what's his name?"
" Von Leib or von Kneip . . . . I'm sorry - I've forgotten."
"What a fool; can't so much as tell us anything. You might at least have found out the name."
"Well, I'll run back."
"Yes, I know you're first-rate at that sort of thing. . . . No, let Daniel go. Tell him to go and ask whether the officers want anything, brother. One ought to show them some politeness after all. Say the mistress sent to inquire."
The old people again sat down in the tea-room and Mademoiselle Louise went to the servants' room to put into a box the sugar that had been broken up. Theresa was there telling about the dragoons.
"Darling miss, what a handsome man that Graf is!" she said. "A regular cherubim with black eyebrows. There now, if you had a bridegroom like that you would be a couple of the right sort."
The other maids smiled approvingly; the old nurse sighed as she sat knitting at a window and even whispered a prayer, drawing in her breath.
"So you liked the dragoons very much?" said Mademoiselle Louise. "And you're a good one at telling what you've seen. Go, please, and bring some of the cranberry juice, Theresa, to give the dragoons something wine to drink."
And Mademoiselle Louise, laughing, went out with the sugar basin in her hands.
"I should really like to have seen what that dragoon is like," she thought, "brown or fair? And he would have been glad to make our acquaintance I should think. . . . And if he goes away he'll never know that I was here and thought about him. And how many such have already passed me by? Who sees me here except uncle and Theresa? Whichever way I do my hair, whatever sleeves I put on, no one looks at me with pleasure," she thought with a sigh as she looked at her plump white arm. "I suppose he is tall, with large eyes, and certainly small black moustaches. . . . Here am I, more than twenty-two, and no one has fallen in love with me except pock-marked Jacques, and four years ago I was even prettier. . . . And so my girlhood has passed without gladdening anyone. Oh, poor, poor country lass that I am!"
Her mother's voice, calling her to pour out tea, roused the country lass from this momentary meditation. She lifted her head with a start and went into the tea-room.
The best results are often obtained accidentally, and the more one tries the worse things turn out. In the country, people rarely try to educate their c***dren and therefore unwittingly usually give them an excellent education. This was particularly so in Mademoiselle Louise's case. Madame Charlotte, with her limited intellect and careless temperament, gave Mademoiselle Louise no education - did not teach her music or that very useful Latin language - but having accidentally borne a healthy pretty c***d by her deceased husband she gave her little daughter over to a wet-nurse and a dry-nurse, fed her, dressed her in cotton prints and goat-skin shoes, sent her out to walk and gather mushrooms and wild berries, engaged a student from the seminary to teach her reading, writing, and arithmetic, and when sixteen years had passed she casually found in Mademoiselle Louise a friend, an ever-kind-hearted, ever-cheerful soul, and an active housekeeper. Madame Charlotte, being kind-hearted, always had some c***dren to bring up - either serf c***dren or foundlings. Mademoiselle Louise began looking after them when she was ten years old: teaching them, dressing them, taking them to church, and checking them when they played too man pranks. Later on the decrepit kindly uncle, who had to be tended like a c***d, appeared on the scene. Then the servants and peasants came to the young lady with various requests and with their ailments, which latter she treated with elderberry, peppermint, and camphorated spirits. Then there was the household management which all fell on her shoulders of itself. Then an unsatisfied longing for love awoke and found its outlet only in Nature and religion. And Mademoiselle Louise accidentally grew into an active, good-natured, cheerful, self-reliant, pure, and deeply religious woman. It is true that she suffered a little from vanity when she saw neighbours standing by her in church wearing fashionable bonnets brought from Lunéville, and sometimes she was vexed to tears by her old mother's whims and grumbling. She had dreams of love, too, in most absurd and sometimes crude forms, but these were dispersed by her useful activity which had grown into a necessity, and at the age of twenty-two there was not one spot or sting of remorse in the clear calm soul of the physically and morally beautifully developed maiden. Mademoiselle Louise was of medium height, plump rather than thin; her eyes were hazel, not large, and had slight shadows on the lower lids; and she had a long light-brown plait of hair. She walked with big steps and with a slight sway - a "duck's waddle" as the saying is. Her face, when she was occupied and not agitated by anything in particular, seemed to say to everyone who looked into it: "It is a joy to live in the world when one has someone to love and a clear conscience." Even in moments of vexation, perplexity, alarm, or sorrow, in spite of herself there shone - through the tear in her eye, her frownning left eyebrow, and her compressed lips - a kind straightforward spirit unspoilt by the intellect; it shone in the dimples of her cheeks, in the corners of her mouth, and in her beaming eyes accustomed to smile and to rejoice in life.


Chapter 2

The air was still hot though the sun was setting when the squadron of German 8th Dragoons Regiment "King Frederick III" entered the village of the manor. In front of them along the dusty village street trotted a brindled cow separated from its herd, looking around and now and then stopping and lowing, but never suspecting that all she had to do was to turn aside. The French peasants - old men, women, and c***dren - the servants from the manor-house, crowded on both sides of the street and eagerly watched the dragoons as the latter rode through a thick cloud of dust, curbing their horses which occasionally stamped and snorted. On the right of the squadron of German 8th Dragoons Regiment "King Frederick III" were two officers who sat their fine black horses carelessly. One was Graf Von Kneib, the commander, the other a very young man recently promoted from cadet, whose name was Lieutenant Gerhard.
A dragoon in a white linen jacket came out of the best of the houses, raised his cap, and went up to the officers.
"Where are the quarters assigned us?"
"For your Excellency?" answered the quartermaster-sergeant, with a start of his whole body. "The village elder's house has been cleaned out. I wanted to get quarters at the manor-house, but they say there is no room there. The proprietress is such a vixen."
"All right!" said Graf von Kneib, dismounting and stretching his legs as he reached the village elder's house. "And has my phaeton arrived?"
"It has deigned to arrive, your Excellency!" answered the quartermaster-sergeant, pointing with his cap to the leather body of a carriage visible through the gateway and rushing forward to the entrance of the house, which was thronged with members of the French peasant family collected to look at the officer. He even pushed one old woman over as he briskly opened the door of the freshly cleaned house and stepped aside to let Graf von Kneib pass.
The house was fairly large and roomy but not very clean. The French valet, dressed like a gentleman, stood inside sorting the linen in a portmanteau after having set up an iron bedstead and made the bed.
"Faugh, what filthy lodgings!" said Graf von Kneib with vexation. "Couldn't you have found anything better at some gentleman's house, Leitzke?"
"If your Excellency desires it I will try at the manor-house," answered the quartermaster-sergeant, "but it isn't up to much - doesn't look much better than a peasant house."
"Never mind now. Go away."
And Graf von Kneib lay down on the bed and threw his arms behind his head.
"Maurice!" he called to his valet. "You've made a lump in the middle again! How is it you can't make a bed properly?"
Maurice came up to put it right.
"No, never mind now. But where is my dressing-gown?" said Graf von Kneib in a dissatisfied tone.
The valet handed him the dressing-gown. Before putting it on Graf von Kneib examined the front.
"I thought so, that spot is not cleaned off. Could anyone be a worse servant than you?" he added, pulling the dressing-gown out of the valet's hands and putting it on. "Tell me, do you do it on purpose? . . . Is the tea ready?"
"I have not had time," said Maurice.
"Fool!"
After that Graf von Kneib took up the French novel placed ready for him and read for some time in silence: Maurice went out into the passage to prepare the teapot. Graf von Kneib was obviously in a bad temper, probably caused by fatigue, a dusty face, tight clothing, and an empty stomach.
"Maurice!" he cried again, "bring me the account for those ten francs. What did you buy in the town?"
He looked over the account handed him, and made some dissatisfied remarks about the dearness of the things purchased.
"Serve rum with my tea."
"I didn't buy any rum," said Maurice.
"That's good! . . . How many times have I told you to have rum?"
"I hadn't enough money."
"Then why didn't Lieutenant Gerhard buy some? You should have got some from his man."
"Lieutenant Gerhard? I don't know. He bought the tea and the sugar."
"Idiot! . . . Get out! . . . You are the only man who knows how to make me lose my patience. . . . You know that on a march I always have rum with my tea."
"Here are two letters for you from the staff," said the valet.
Graf von Kneib opened his letters and began reading them without rising. Lieutenant Gerhard, having quartered the squadron, came in with a merry face.
"Well, how is it, Graf von Kneib? It seems very nice here. But I must confess I'm tired. It was hot."
"Very nice!... A filthy stinking house, and thanks to your lordship no rum; your blockhead didn't buy any, nor did this one. You might at least have mentioned it."
And he continued to read his letter. When he had finished he rolled it into a ball and threw it on the floor.
In the passage Lieutenant Gerhard was meanwhile saying to his orderly in a whisper: "Why didn't you buy any rum? You had money enough, you know."
"But why should we buy everything? As it is I pay for everything, while his Frenchman does nothing but smoke his pipe."
It was evident that Graf von Kneib's second letter was not unpleasant, for he smiled as he read it.
"Who is it from?" asked Lieutenant Gerhard, returning to the room and beginning to arrange a sleeping-place for himself on some boards by the oven.
"From Ingrid," answered Graf von Kneib gaily, handing him the letter, "Do you want to see it? What a delightful woman she is! . . . Really she's much better than our young ladies. . . . Just see how much feeling and wit there is in that letter. Only one thing is bad - she's asking for money."
"Yes, that's bad," said Lieutenant Gerhard .
"It's true I promised her some, but then this campaign came on, and besides. . . However if I remain in command of the squadron another three months I'll send her some. It's worth it, really; such a charming creature, eh?" said he, watching the expression on Lieutenant Gerhard's face as he read the letter.
"Dreadfully ungrammatical, but very nice, and it seems as if she really loves you," said Lieutenant Gerhard .
"H'm . . . I should think so! It's only women of that kind who love sincerely when once they do love."
"And who was the other letter from?" asked Lieutenant Gerhard , handing back the one he had read.
"Oh, that . . . there's a man, a nasty b**st who won from me at cards, and he's reminding me of it for the third time. . . . I can't let him have it at present. . . . A stupid letter!" said Graf von Kneib , evidently vexed at the recollection.
After this both officers were silent for a while. Lieutenant Gerhard, who was evidently under Graf von Kneib's influence, glanced now and then at the handsome though clouded countenance of Graf von Kneib - who was looking fixedly through the window - and drank his tea in silence, not venturing to start a conversation.
"But d'you know, it may turn out capitally," said Graf von Kneib , suddenly turning to Lieutenant Gerhard with a shake of his head. "Supposing we get promotions by seniority this year and take part in an action besides, I may get ahead of my own captains in the Guards."
The conversation was still on the same topic and they were drinking their second tumblers of tea when old Daniel entered and delivered Madame Charlotte's message.
"And I was also to inquire if you are not Graf Gottlieb von Kneib's son?" added Daniel on his own account, having learnt Graf von Kneib's name and remembering the deceased Graf's sojourn in the town of Lunéville. "Our mistress, Madame Charlotte, was very well acquainted with him."
"He was my father. And tell your mistress I am very much obliged to her. We want nothing but say we told you to ask whether we could not have a cleaner room somewhere - in the manor-house or anywhere."
"Now, why did you do that?" asked Lieutenant Gerhard when Daniel had gone. "What does it matter? Just for one night - what does it matter? And they will be inconveniencing themselves."
"What an idea! I think we've had our share of smoky houses! . . . It's easy to see you're not a practical man. Why not seize the opportunity when we can, and live like human beings for at least one night? And on the contrary they will be very pleased to have us. . . . The worst of it is, if this lady really knew my father . . . " continued Graf von Kneib with a smile which displayed his glistening white teeth. "I always have to feel ashamed of my departed papa. There is always some scandalous story or other, or some debt he has left. That's why I hate meeting these acquaintances of my father's. However, that was the way in those days," he added, growing serious.
"Did I ever tell you," said Lieutenant Gerhard, "I once met a cuirassier brigade-commander, Lehmann? He was very anxious to meet you. He is awfully fond of your father."
"That Lehmann is an awful good-for-nothing, I believe. But the worst of it is that these good people, who assure me that they knew my father in order to make my acquaintance, while pretending to be very pleasant, relate such tales about my father as make me ashamed to listen. It is true - I don't deceive myself, but look at things dispassionately - that he had too ardent a nature and sometimes did things that were not nice. However, that was the way in those times. In our days he might have turned out a very successful man, for to do him justice he had extraordinary capacities."
A quarter of an hour later the servant came back with a request from the proprietress that they would be so good as to spend the night at her house.


Chapter 3

Having heard that the dragoon officer was the son of Graf Gottlieb von Kneib, Madame Charlotte was all in a flutter.
"Oh, dear me! The darling boy! . . . Daniel, run quickly and say your mistress asks them to her house!" she began, jumping up and hurrying with quick steps to the servants' room. "Louise! Theresa! . . . Your room must be got ready, Mademoiselle Louise, you can move into your uncle's room. And you, brother, you won't mind sleeping in the drawing-room, will you? It's only for one night."
"I don't mind, sister. I can sleep on the floor."
"He must be handsome if he's like his father. Only to have a look at him, the darling. . . . You must have a good look at him, Louise! The father “was” handsome. . . . Where are you taking that table to? Leave it here," said Madame Charlotte, bustling about. "Bring two beds - take one from the foreman's - and get the crystal candlestick, the one my brother gave me on my birthday - it's on the what-not - and put a stearine candle in it."
At last everything was ready. In spite of her mother's interference Mademoiselle Louise arranged the room for the two officers her own way. She took out clean bed-clothes scented with mignonette, made the beds, had candles and a bottle of water placed on a small table near by, fumigated the servants' room with scented paper, and moved her own little bed into her uncle's room. Madame Charlotte quieted down a little, settled in her own place, and even took up the cards again, but instead of laying them out she leaned her plump elbow on the table and grew thoughtful.
"Ah, time, time, how it flies!" she whispered to herself. "Is it so long ago? It is as if I could see him now. Ah, he was a madcap!. . ." and tears came into her eyes. "And now there's Louise . . . but still, she's not what I was at her age - she's a nice girl but she's not like that . . ."
"Louise, you should put on your mousseline-de-laine dress for the evening."
"Why, mother, you are not going to ask them in to see us? Better not," said Mademoiselle Louise, unable to master her excitement at the thought of meeting the officers. "Better not, mamma!"
And really her desire to see them was less strong than her fear of the agitating joy she imagined awaited her.
"Maybe they themselves will wish to make our acquaintance, Louise!" said Madame Charlotte, stroking her head and thinking, "No, her hair is not what mine was at her age. . . . Oh, Louise, how I should like you to . . ." And she ready did very earnestly desire something for her daughter. But she could not imagine a marriage with Graf von Kneib, and she could not desire for her daughter relations such as she had had with the father; but still she did desire something very much. She may have longed to relive in the soul of her daughter what she had experienced with him who was dead.
The old cavalryman was also somewhat excited by the arrival of Graf von Kneib. He locked himself into his room and emerged a quarter of an hour later in a Hungarian jacket and pale-blue trousers, and entered the room prepared for the visitors with the bashfully pleased expression of a girl who puts on a ball-dress for the first time in her life.
"I'll have a look at the dragoons of today, sister! The late Graf was indeed a true dragoon. "I'll see, I'll see!"
The officers had already reached the room assigned to them through the back entrance.
"There, you see! Isn't this better than that house with the cockroaches?" said Graf von Kneib, lying down as he was, in his dusty boots, on the bed that had been prepared for him.
"Of course it's better; but still, to be indebted to the proprietress ... "
"Oh, what nonsense! One must be practical in all things. They're awfully pleased, I'm sure . . . Eh, you there!" he cried. "Ask for something to hang over this window, or it will be draughty in the night."
At this moment the old man came in to make the officers' acquaintance. Of course, though he did it with a slight blush, he did not omit to say that he and the old Graf had been comrades, that he had enjoyed Graf von Kneib's favour, and he even added that he had more than once been under obligations to the deceased. What obligations he referred to, whether it was Graf von Kneib's omission to repay the hundred francs he had borrowed, or his throwing him into a snow-heap, or swearing at him, the old man quite omitted to explain. The young Graf was very polite to the old cavalryman and thanked him for the night's lodging.
"You must excuse us if it is not luxurious, Graf," (he very nearly said "your Excellency," so unaccustomed had he become to conversing with important persons), "my sister's house is so small. But we'll hang something up there directly and it will be all right," added the old man, and on the plea of seeing about a curtain, but mainly because he was in a hurry to give an account of the officers, he bowed and left the room.
The pretty Theresa came in with her mistress's shawl to cover the window, and besides, the mistress had told her to ask if the gentlemen would not like some tea.
The pleasant surrounds seemed to have a good influence on Graf von Kneib's spirits. He smiled merrily, joked with Theresa in such a way that she even called him a scamp, asked whether her young lady was pretty, and in answer to her question whether they would have any tea he said she might bring them some tea, but the chief thing was that, their own supper not being ready yet, perhaps they might have some cognac and something to eat, and some sherry if there was any.
The uncle was in raptures over the young Graf's politeness and praised the new generation of officers to the skies, saying that the present men were incomparable superior to the former generation.
Madame Charlotte did not agree - no one could be superior to Graf Von Kneib - and at last she grew seriously angry and drily remarked, "The one who has last stroked you, brother, is always the best. . . . Of course people are cleverer nowadays, but Graf von Kneib danced the *ecossaise* in such a way and was so amiable that everybody lost their heads about him, though he paid attention to no one but me. So you see, there were good people in the old days too."
Here came the news of the demand for cognac, light refreshments, and sherry.
"There now, brother, you never do the right thing; you should have ordered supper," began Madame Charlotte. "Louise, see to it, dear!"
Mademoiselle Louise ran to the larder to get some pickled mushrooms and fresh butter, and the cook was ordered to make rissoles.
"But how about sherry? Have you any left, brother?"
"No, sister, I never had any."
"How's that? Why, what is it you take with your tea?"
"That's rum, Madame Charlotte."
"Isn't it all the same? Give me some of that - it's all the same. But wouldn't it after all be best to ask them in here, brother? You know all about it - I don't think they would take offence."
The cavalryman declared he would warrant that Graf von Kneib was too good- natured to refuse and that he would certainly fetch them. Madame Charlotte went and put on a silk dress and a new cap for some reason, but Mademoiselle Louise was so busy that she had no time to change her pink gingham dress with the wide sleeves. Besides, she was terribly excited; she felt as if something wonderful was awaiting her and as if a low black cloud hung over her soul. It seemed to her that this handsome dragoon Graf must be a perfectly new, incomprehensible, but beautiful being. His character, his habits, his speech must all be so unusual, so different from anything she had ever met. All he thinks or says must be wise and right; all he does must be honourable; his whole appearance must be beautiful. She never doubted that. Had he asked not merely for refreshments and sherry but for a bath of sage-brandy and perfume, she would not have been surprised and would not have blamed him but would have been firmly convinced that it was right and necessary.
Graf von Kneib at once agreed when the cavalryman informed them of his sister's wish. He brushed his hair, put on his uniform, and took his cigar-case.
"Come along," he said to Lieutenant Gerhard.
"Really it would be better not to go," answered Lieutenant Gerhard . " They will be putting themselves to expense on our account." "Nonsense, they will be only too happy! Besides, I have made some inquiries: there is a pretty daughter. . . . Come along!" said Graf von Kneib.
"If you please, gentlemen.” said the cavalryman, merely to make the officers feel that he also knew German language and had understood what they had said.


Chapter 4

Mademoiselle Louise, afraid to look at the officers, blushed and cast down her eyes and pretended to be busy filling the teapot when they entered the room. Madame Charlotte on the contrary jumped up hurriedly, bowed, and not taking her eyes off Graf von Kneib, began talking to him - now saying how unusually like his father he was, now introducing her daughter to him, now offering him tea, jam, or home-made sweetmeats. No one paid any attention to Lieutenant Gerhard because of his modest appearance, and he was very glad of it, for he was, as far as propriety allowed, gazing at Mademoiselle Louise and minutely examining her beauty which evidently took him by surprise. The uncle, listening to his sister's conversation with Graf von Kneib, awaited, with the words ready on his lips, an opportunity to narrate his cavalry reminiscences. During tea Graf von Kneib lit a cigar and Mademoiselle Louise found it difficult to prevent herself from coughing. He was very talkative and amiable, at first slipping his stories into the intervals of Madame Charlotte's ever-flowing speech, but at last monopolizing the conversation. One thing struck his hearers as strange; in his stories he often used words not considered improper in the society he belonged to, but which here sounded rather too bold and somewhat frightened Madame Charlotte and made Mademoiselle Louise blush to her ears, but Graf von Kneib did not notice it and remained calmly natural and amiable.
Mademoiselle Louise silently filled the tumblers, which she did not give into the visitors' hands but placed on the table near them, not having quite recovered from her excitement, and she listened eagerly to Graf von Kneib's remarks. His stories, which were not very deep, and the hesitation in his speech gradually calmed her. She did not hear from him the very clever things she had expected, nor did she see that elegance in everything which she had vaguely expected to find in him. At the third cup of tea, after her bashful eyes had once met his and he had not looked down but had continued to look at her too quietly and with a slight smile, she even felt rather inimically disposed towards him and soon found that not only was there nothing especial about him but that he was in no wise different from other people she had met, that there was no need to be afraid of him though his nails were long and clean, and there was not even any special beauty in him. Mademoiselle Louise suddenly relinquished her dream, not without some inward pain, and grew calmer, and only the gaze of the taciturn Lieutenant which she felt fixed upon her, disquieted her.
"Perhaps it's not this one, but that one!" she thought.


Chapter 5

After tea the old lady asked the visitors into the drawing-room and again sat down in her old place.
"But wouldn't you like to rest, Graf?" she asked, and after receiving an answer in the negative continued, "What can I do to entertain our dear guests? Do you play cards, Graf? There now, brother, you should arrange something; arrange a set - "
"But you yourself play “preference”," answered the cavalryman. "Why not all play? Will you play, Graf? And you too?"
The officers expressed their readiness to do whatever their kind hosts desired.
Mademoiselle Louise brought her old pack of cards which she used for divining when her mother's swollen face would get well, whether her uncle would return the same day when he went to town, whether a neighbour would call today, and so on. These cards, though she had used them for a couple of months, were cleaner than those Madame Charlotte used to tell fortunes.
"But perhaps you won't play for small stakes?" inquired the uncle. "Madame Charlotte and I play for centime. . . . And even so she wins all our money."
"Oh, any stakes you like - I shall be delighted," replied Graf von Kneib.
"Well then, one- centime'assignats' just for once, in honour of our dear visitors! Let them beat me, an old woman!" said Madame Charlotte, settling down in her armchair and arranging her mantilla. "And perhaps I'll win a franc or so from them," thought she, having developed a slight passion for cards in her old age.
"If you like, I'll teach you to play with 'tables' and *misere*," said Graf von Kneib. "It is capital."
Everyone liked the new Paris way. The uncle was even sure he knew it; it was just the same as "boston" used to be, only he had forgotten it a bit. But Madame Charlotte could not understand it at all and failed to understand it for so long that at last, with a smile and nod of approval, she felt herself obliged to assert that now she understood it and that all was quite clear to her. There was not a little laughter during the game when Madame Charlotte, holding ace and king blank, declared “misere” and was left with six tricks. She even became confused and began to smile shyly and hurriedly explain that she had not got quite used to the new way. But they scored against her all the same, especially as Graf von Kneib, being used to playing a careful game for high stakes, was cautious, skillfully played through his opponents' hands, and refused to understand the shoves Lieutenant Gerhard gave him under the table with his foot or the mistakes the latter made when they were partners.
Mademoiselle Louise brought more sweets, three kinds of jam, and some specially prepared apples that had been kept since last season and stood behind her mother's back watching the game and occasionally looking at the officers and especially at Graf von Kneib's white hands with their rosy well-kept nails which threw the cards and took up the tricks in so practised, assured, and elegant a manner.
Again Madame Charlotte, rather irritably outbidding the others, declared seven tricks, made only four, and was fined accordingly, and having very clumsily noted down, on her brother's demand, the points she had lost, became quite confused and fluttered.
"Never mind, mamma, you'll win it back!" smilingly remarked Mademoiselle Louise, wishing to help her mother out of the ridiculous situation. "Let uncle make a forfeit, and then he'll be caught."
"If you would only help me, Louise dear!" said Madame Charlotte, with a frightened glance at her daughter. "I don't know how this is ... "
"But I don't know this way either," Louise answered, mentally reckoning up her mother's losses. "You will lose a lot that way, mamma! There will be nothing left for Henriette's new dress," she added in just.
"Yes, this way one may easily lose ten silver francs," said Lieutenant Gerhard looking at Mademoiselle Louise and anxious to enter into conversation with her.
"Aren't we playing for assignats?" said Madame Charlotte, looking round at them all.
"I don't know how we are playing, but I can't reckon in assignats," said Graf von Kneib. "What is it? I mean, what are assignats?"
"Why nowadays nobody counts in assignats any longer," remarked the uncle, who had played very cautiously and had been winning.
The old lady ordered some sparkling home-made wine to be brought, drank two glasses, became very red, and seemed to resign herself to any fate. A lock of her grey hair escaped from under her cap and she did not even put it right. No doubt it seemed to her as if she had lost millions and it was all up with her. Lieutenant Gerhard touched Graf von Kneib with his foot more and more often. Graf von Kneib scored down the old lady's losses. At last the game ended, and in spite of Madame Charlotte's attempts to add to her score by pretending to make mistakes in adding it up, in spite of her horror at the amount of her losses, it turned out at last that she had lost 920 points. "That's nine assignats?" she asked several times and did not comprehend the full extent of her loss until her brother told her, to her horror, that she had lost more than thirty-two assignats and that she must certainly pay.
Graf von Kneib did not even add up his winnings but rose immediately the game was over, went over to the window at which Mademoiselle Louise was arranging the hors d'oeuvre and turning pickled mushrooms out of a jar onto a plate for supper, and there quite quietly and simply did what Lieutenant Gerhard had all that evening so longed, but failed, to do - entered into conversation with her about the weather.
Meanwhile Lieutenant Gerhard was in a very unpleasant position. In the absence of Graf von Kneib, and more especially of Mademoiselle Louise, who had been keeping her in good humour, Madame Charlotte became frankly angry.
"Really, it's too bad that we should win from you like this," said Lieutenant Gerhard in order to say something. "It is a real shame!"
"Well, of course, if you go and invent some kind of 'tables' and '*miseres*' and I don't know how to play them. ... Well then, how much does it come to in assignats?" she asked.
"Thirty-two francs, thirty-two and a quarter," repeated the cavalryman, who under the influence of his success was in a playful mood. "Hand over the money, sister; pay up!"
"I'll pay it all, but you won't catch me again. No! ... I shall not win this back as long as I live."
And Madame Charlotte went off to her room, hurriedly swaying from side to side, and came back bringing nine assignats. It was only on the old man's insistent demand that she eventually paid the whole amount.
Lieutenant Gerhard was seized with fear lest Madame Charlotte should scold him if he spoke to her. He silently and quietly left her and joined Graf von Kneib and Louise who were talking at the open window.
On the table spread for supper stood two tallow candles. Now and then the soft fresh breath of the May night caused the flames to flicker. Outside the window, which opened onto the garden, it was also light but it was a quite different light. The moon, which was almost full and already losing its golden tinge, floated above the tops of the tall lindens and more and more lit up the thin white clouds which veiled it at intervals. Frogs were croaking loudly by the pond, the surface of which, silvered in one place by the moon, was visible through the avenue. Some little birds fluttered slightly or lightly hopped from bough to bough in a sweet-scented lilac-bush whose dewy branches occasionally swayed gently close to the window.
"What wonderful weather!" Graf von Kneib said as he approached Louise and sat down on the low window-sill. "I suppose you walk a good deal?"
"Yes," said Louise, not feeling the least shyness in speaking with Graf von Kneib. "In the morning about seven o'clock I look after what was to be attended to on the estate and take my mother's ward, Henriette, with me for a walk."
"It is pleasant to live in the country!" said Graf von Kneib, putting his eye-glass to his eye and looking now at the garden, now at Mademoiselle Louise. "And don't you ever go out at night, by moonlight?"
"No. But two years ago uncle and I used to walk every moonlight night. He was troubled with a strange complaint - insomnia. When there was a full moon he could not fall asleep. His little room - that one - looks straight out into the garden, the window is low but the moon shines straight into it."
"That's strange: I thought that was your room," said Graf von Kneib.
"No. I only sleep there tonight. You have my room."
"Is it possible? Dear me, I shall never forgive myself for having disturbed you in such a way!" said Graf von Kneib, letting the monocle fall from his eye in proof of the sincerity of his feelings. "If I had known that I was troubling you ... "
"It's no trouble! On the contrary I am very glad: uncle's is such a charming room, so bright, and the window is so low. I shall sit there till I fall asleep, or else I shall climb out into the garden and walk about a bit before going to bed."
"What a splendid girl!" thought Graf von Kneib, replacing his eyeglass and looking at her and trying to touch her foot with his own while pretending to seat himself more comfortably on the window-sill. "And how cleverly she has let me know that I may see her in the garden at the window if I like!" Louise even lost much of her charm in his eyes - the conquest seemed too easy.
"And how delightful it must be," he said, looking thoughtfully at the dark avenue of trees, "to spend a night like this in the garden with a beloved one."
Mademoiselle Louise was embarrassed by these words and by the repeated, seemingly accidental touch of his foot. Anxious to hide her confusion she said without thinking, "Yes, it is nice to walk in the moonlight." She was beginning to feel rather uncomfortable. She had tied up the jar out of which she had taken the mushrooms and was going away from the window, when Lieutenant Gerhard joined them and she felt a wish to see what kind of man he was.
"What a lovely night!" he said.
"Why, they talk of nothing but the weather," thought Louise.
"What a wonderful view!" continued Lieutenant Gerhard . "But I suppose you are tired of it," he added, having a curious propensity to say rather unpleasant things to people he liked very much.
"Why do you think so? The same kind of food or the same dress one may get tired of, but not of a beautiful garden if one is fond of walking - especially when the moon is still higher. From uncle's window the whole pond can be seen. I shall look at it tonight."
"But I don't think you have any nightingales?" said Graf von Kneib, much dissatisfied that Lieutenant Gerhard had come and prevented his ascertaining more definitely the terms of the rendezvous.
"No, but there always were until last year when some sportsman caught one, and this year one began to sing beautifully only last week but the police-officer came here and his carriage-bells frightened it away. Two years ago uncle and I used to sit in the covered alley and listen to them for two hours or more at a time."
"What is this chatterbox telling you?" said her uncle, coming up to them. "Won't you come and have something to eat?"
After supper, during which Graf von Kneib by praising the food and by his appetite has somewhat dispelled the hostess's ill humour, the officers said good-night and went into their room. Graf von Kneib shook hands with the uncle and to Madame Charlotte's surprise shook her hand also without kissing it, and even shook Louise's, looking straight into her eyes the while and slightly smiling his pleasant smile. This look again abashed the girl.
"He is very good-looking," she thought, "but he thinks too much of himself."


Chapter 6

"I say, aren't you ashamed of yourself?" said Lieutenant Gerhard when they were in their room. "I purposely tried to lose and kept touching you under the table. Aren't you ashamed? The old lady was quite upset, you know."
Graf von Kneib laughed very heartily.
"She was awfully funny, that old lady. ... How offended she was! ... "
And he again began laughing so merrily that even Maurice, who stood in front of him, cast down his eyes and turned away with a slight smile.
"And with the son of a friend of the family! Ha-ha-ha! ... " Graf von Kneib continued to laugh.
"No, really it was too bad. I was quite sorry for her," said Lieutenant Gerhard .
"What nonsense! How young you still are! Why, did you wish me to lose? Why should one lose? I used to lose before I knew how to play! Ten francs may come in useful, my dear fellow. You must look at life practically or you'll always be left in the lurch."
Lieutenant Gerhard was silenced; besides, he wished to be quiet and to think about Mademoiselle Louise, who seemed to him an unusually pure and beautiful creature. He undressed and lay down in the soft clean bed prepared for him.
"What nonsense all this military honour and glory is!" he thought, looking at the window curtained by the shawl through which the white moonbeams stole in. "It would be happiness to live in a quiet nook with a dear, wise, simple-hearted wife - yes, that is true and lasting happiness!"
But for some reason he did not communicate these reflections to his friend and did not even refer to the country lass, though he was convinced that Graf von Kneib too was thinking of her.
"Why don't you undress?" he asked Graf von Kneib who was walking up and down the room.
"I don't feel sleepy yet, somehow. You can put out the candle if you like. I shall lie down as I am."
And he continued to pace up and down.
"Don't feel sleepy yet somehow," repeated Lieutenant Gerhard, who after this last evening felt more dissatisfied than ever with Graf von Kneib's influence over him and was inclined to rebel against it. "I can imagine," he thought, addressing himself mentally to Graf von Kneib, "what is now passing through that well-brushed head of yours! I saw how you admired her. But you are not capable of understanding such a simple honest creature: you want Ingrid and a colonel's epaulettes. ... I really must ask him how he liked her."
And Lieutenant Gerhard turned towards him - but changed his mind. He felt he would not be able to hold his own with Graf von Kneib, if the latter's opinion of Mademoiselle Louise were what he supposed it to be, and that he would even be unable to avoid agreeing with him, so accustomed was he to bow to Graf von Kneib's influence, which he felt more and more every day to be oppressive and unjust.
"Where are you going?" he asked, when Graf von Kneib put on his cap and went to the door.
"I'm going to see if things are all right in the stables."
"Strange!" thought Lieutenant Gerhard, but put out the candle and turned over on his other side, trying to drive away the absurdly jealous and hostile thoughts that crowded into his head concerning his former friend.
Madame Charlotte meanwhile, having as usual kissed her brother, daughter, and ward and made the sign of the cross over each of them, had also retired to her room. It was long since the old lady had experienced so many strong impressions in one day and she could not even pray quietly: she could not rid herself of the sad and vivid memories of the deceased Graf and of the young dandy who had plundered her so unmercifully. However, she undressed as usual, drank half a tumbler of new red wine that stood ready for her on a little table by her bed, and lay down. Her favourite cat crept softly into the room. Madame Charlotte called her up and began to stroke her and listen to her purring but could not fall asleep.
"It's the cat that keeps me awake," she thought and drove her away. The cat fell softly on the floor and gently moving her bushy tail leapt onto the stove. And now the maid, who always slept in Madame Charlotte's room, came and spread the piece of felt that served her for a mattress, put out the candle. At last the maid began to snore, but still sleep would not come to soothe Madame Charlotte's excited imagination. When she closed her eyes the dragoon's face appeared to her, and she seemed to see it in the room in various guises when she opened her eyes and by the dim light of the lamp looked at the chest of drawers, the table, or a white dress that was hanging up. Now she felt very hot on the feather bed, now her watch ticked unbearably on the little table, and the maid snored unendurably through her nose. She woke her up and told her not to snore. Again thoughts of her daughter, of the old Graf and the young one, and of the preference, became curiously mixed in her head. Now she saw herself waltzing with the old Graf, saw her own round white shoulders, felt someone's kisses on them, and then saw her daughter in the arms of the young Graf. Theresa again began to snore.
"No, people are not the same nowadays. The other one was ready to leap into the fire for me - and not without cause. But this one is sleeping like a fool, no fear, glad to have won - no love-making about him. ... How the other one said on his knees, 'What do you wish me to do? I'll kill myself on the spot, or do anything you like!' And he would have killed himself had I told him to."
After saying good-night to her mother that evening Mademoiselle Louise had gone alone to the room her uncle generally slept in. She put on a white dressing- jacket and covered her long thick plait with a kerchief, extinguished the candle, opened the window, and sat down on a chair, drawing her feet up and fixing her pensive eyes on the pond now all glittering in the silvery light.
All her accustomed occupations and interests suddenly appeared to her in a new light: her capricious old mother, uncritical love for whom had become part of her soul; her decrepit but amiable old uncle; the domestic and village serfs who worshipped their young mistress; the milch cows and the calves, and all this Nature which had died and been renewed so many times and amid which she had grown up loving and beloved - all this that had given such light and pleasant tranquillity to her soul suddenly seemed unsatisfactory; it seemed dull and unnecessary. It was as if someone had said to her: "Little fool, little fool, for twenty years you have been trifling, serving someone without knowing why, and without knowing what life and happiness are!" As she gazed into the depths of the moonlit, motionless garden she thought this more intensely, far more intensely, than ever before. And what caused these thoughts? Not any sudden love for Graf von Kneib as one might have supposed. On the contrary, she did not like him. She could have been interested in Lieutenant Gerhard more easily, but he was plain, poor fellow, and silent. She kept involuntarily forgetting him and recalling the image of Graf von Kneib with anger and annoyance. "No, that's not it," she said to herself. Her ideal had been so beautiful. It was an ideal that could have been loved on such a night amid this nature without impairing its beauty - an ideal never abridged to fit it to some coarse reality.
Formerly, solitude and the absence of anyone who might have attracted her attention had caused the power of love, which Providence has given impartially to each of us, to rest intact and tranquil in her bosom, and now she had lived too long in the melancholy happiness of feeling within her the presence of this something, and of now and again opening the secret chalice of her heart to contemplate its riches, to be able to lavish its contents thoughtlessly on anyone. She may enjoy to her grave this chary bliss! Who knows whether it be not the best and strongest, and whether it is not the only true and possible happiness?
" Can it be that I have lost my youth and happiness in vain," she thought, "and that it will never be ... never be? Can that be true?" And she looked into the depths of the sky lit up by the moon and covered by light fleecy clouds that, veiling the stars, crept nearer to the moon. "If that highest white cloudlet touches the moon it will be a sign that it is true," thought she. The mist-like smoky strip ran across the bottom half of the bright disk and little by little the light on the grass, on the tops of the limes, and on the pond, grew dimmer and the black shadows of the trees grew less distinct. As if to harmonize with the gloomy shadows that spread over the world outside, a light wind ran through the leaves and brought to the window the odour of dewy leaves, of moist earth, and of blooming lilacs.
"But it is not true," she consoled herself. "There now, if the nightingale sings tonight it will be a sign that what I'm thinking is all nonsense, and that I need not despair," thought she. And she sat a long while in silence waiting for something, while again all became bright and full of life and again and again the cloudlets ran across the moon making everything dim. She was beginning to fall asleep as she sat by the window, when the quivering trills of a nightingale came ringing from below across the pond and awoke her. The country maiden opened her eyes. And once more her soul was renewed with fresh joy by its mysterious union with Nature which spread out so calmly and brightly before her. She leant on both arms. A sweet, languid sensation of sadness oppressed her heart, and tears of pure wide- spreading love, thirsting to be satisfied - good comforting tears - filled her eyes. She folded her arms on the window-sill and laid her head on them. Her favourite prayer rose to her mind and she fell asleep with her eyes still moist.
The touch of someone's hand aroused her. She awoke. But the touch was light and pleasant. The hand pressed hers more closely. Suddenly she became alive to reality, lightly screamed, and jumped up. She had recognized Graf von Kneib who was standing under the window bathed in the moonlight...


Chapter 7

They were laying in Mademoiselle Louise bed, naked. And Mademoiselle Louise roving fingers, tracing seductive, teasing paths along the Graf thighs were laying the groundwork to the point of no return. And they got there at light speed. The sheets have been thrown aside and Louise head was resting on the Graf abdomen, her hazel eyes only inches from his rock-solid erection.
Her fingertips, moistened by her saliva, lightly brush the shaft of the Graf cock, sending sparks to the Graf balls. She looked entranced as she explored each vein and ridge as if she had never seen such a b**st. She eyed the Graf tentatively, seeming to ask for his approval, as her hand closed around his pole. Her fingers began to gently stroke up and down it's length. She marveled at it's thickness, complimenting him over it's heft and girth. Her tongue hesitantly reached out to occasionally lick a sloppy trail from Graf von Kneib balls, nestled in their wiry, light-brown thatch, up to the helmeted cap, and then twirl around the tip of his straining rod.
Graf von Kneib arched his back to thrust his penis at her sexy pout. Oily droplets formed at the tip of his cock and she coyly licked them, savoring the salty flavor. All his emotional restraint was melting into an a****listic surge of desire and hunger. With one last shred of decency, he reached out to grab her wrist and shift his body away from hers. "Louise, maybe it's time to call it a night? I'm not sure you're thinking straight." "Please don't stop me, Graf. I know what's happening and I know what I'm doing. I'm not some a pathetic loser. I'm a grown woman lucky enough to have found a sexy man I want to give his body to. Lay back and enjoy the ride then feel free to do anything you like. I want to explore all of our fantasies together." With that, her head lowered over his nine inches of granite and her soft, full lips slowly parted to allow his cock to disappear tantalizingly between them. Her wet, warm mouth sucked him in and her hand started a quicker, rougher stroke, sliding smoothly back and forth along Graf von Kneib 's firm alabaster hammer.
He watched enthralled as the big purplish head ducked in and out of her hungry mouth. The saliva dripped down the shaft, soaking her hand and serving to lubricate his eager cock for Louise's ministrations. He no longer cared to fight the moral implications of all this and gave himself over to a primal desire to fuck this girl.
Graf von Kneib head leaned back against the pillows and he let the urge take charge. He watched in bug-eyed wonder as she practiced her fellatio. Her right hand, slick with their combined bodily fluids, pumped his engorged penis into her manic mouth. The suction was incredible and her cheeks puffed out like a bellows, working hard and fast to stoke this fire. Her other hand toyed with her clitoris, flicking the swollen button until it reddened and then ground her palm roughly against the yearning nub. Louise's fingers deftly glided between her folds, tips curled to tease that pleasure zone just inside. They emerged wet and sticky with silky tendrils clinging to them and stretching from her hot snatch.
He could sense the aroma of her oncoming orgasm and hear the low, guttural moaning as she experienced the sensation building. Her eyes were clamped shut but she never stopped sucking and slurping. Then he saw her abdominals begin to quiver and her powerful, sexy quads tighten and go into spasm. Her toes curled. Her pelvis rocked and she released the hold on his pecker just long enough to shriek. At the height of her convulsions, he could not hold out any longer. Graf von Kneib hand grabbed a fistful of her silky, light-brown locks and plunged her mouth down on his explosive joint. At the same time, he thrust his hips up at her, driving his tool past her tongue and releasing a deluge of cum to blast against her tonsils.
She struggled momentarily, choking and gagging, unaccustomed to such deviant behaviour, especially from the Graf. But determining that she was in no danger, Mademoiselle Louise relaxed and swallowed his load with a series of loud gulps. He continued to drive his penis into her, not wanting his penis to soften, or for this feeling to subside. She drained him thoroughly but he have never felt so potent. When their breathing returned to a livable level, Graf von Kneib spotted the lustful, crazed look in her sparkling, blue orbs. The enlarged pupils and flaring nostrils only hinted at the fury to follow. She opened her jaws wide to show me that most of the thick, creamy goo was ingested and she licked her own fluids from her fingers, greedily scooping the overflow from her chin and cheeks. Mademoiselle Louise flung herself back on the sheets and spread her legs, knees up, holding her thighs apart with her hands.
The invitation was for the Graf to partake in her feast. One good sloppy turn deserves another. He scampered to his knees and slithered up to that warm, wet gash. His digits rubbed the silken carpeting of her vagina while he traced slobbery kisses along her muscular inner thighs 'till he reached that golden triangle. Once again he could observe her body mount it's orgasmic contractions. The hard sinew shaking under the taut, velvety flesh. Her breathing came haltingly as he tempted her pussy opening with his pointy tongue. Then he would lay his tongue flat and slowly press down on the labia and ease a trickle of warmth from her pussy to her ass. He stopped temporarily at each orifice to circle and poke them until her gyrations prompted me to a different target.
Mademoiselle Louise called his name pulled his hair, shook his head by the ears, and wrapped her strong legs around his neck like a python. He could taste the first wave of this new orgasm and he strove to continue to return the delicious feeling she had provided him. So he kept licking, probing and nibbling at her pussy. The flood of juices poured down his chin and threatened to drown him. Her convulsions hit their crescendo and she screamed that he had to stop or her heart would go into arrest. "Graf, how, when did you ever learn to do that? His legs won't stop shaking and his belly is bucking like there is something alive inside trying to get out. Come up here this instant and fuck me!"
He did think about the implications of this for about two seconds. Then he shifted on to his haunches and squirted a dollop of oil along his Priapus and on her swollen glans and shoved deep inside. He looked down at beautiful, sultry Mademoiselle Louise , hypnotized in the throes of ecstasy. All he wanted was to fuck this strikingly gorgeous woman underneath him, and to keep this fantasy alive. He tried to be gentle. He wanted to appear sophisticated. And he hoped this moment would last, but well...Once inside her steaming pussy, his cock revved; and the tidal sensation that stormed up from his balls, up his shaft and out the tip was overwhelming. Sperm flowed like a firehose, drenching her insides with his milky seed. He pumped and thrusted, shooting what seemed like gallons of hot, sweet jizz into her. Louise squirmed and shivered, shouting a plethora of lewd epithets and describing herself and their activities in the vilest of terms. The Graf never imagined she was such a screamer and when she called herself a slut, a tramp and a filthy whore, she fired his imagination as much as hers. He watched captivated as her big jugs wobbled on her chest like water balloons and he tugged and squeezed them both. When his pistoning action ebbed, he slumped on top of Louise. His tongue and fingers busied themselves groping and teasing those pliant, pleasure-filled globes.
When the Graf pulled his tender, bruised rod out of her honey-blonde clutches she hollered, " where are you going? I'm not finished with you yet." She scrambled like the old shortstop she used to be, and wrapped her mouth around his pole, again sucking the remnants of their juices from his sore cock, and pumping the life back into it. " Mademoiselle, there's more work to be done." Satisfied that his erection was firm and fast again, Louise rolled on to all-fours and guided his shiny, slick missile back inside her dripping, gaping hole. He needed no further encouragement and plowed her frantically for another few minutes until all the blood drained from his body and settled in his prick. The sight of that tight, firm ass in his grip and the slapping sound of those big bouncing tits, spurred him on to one more attempt at fireworks.
He gave it his best effort and believed that he had one final spurt of cum to deliver. Just to be a German gentleman, he made sure to reach between her legs and finger her clitoris to orgasm, incase he couldn't provide the thrill with his cock alone. With the last great thrust, the Graf collapsed on Louise's back and they laid in a naked sweaty pile of spent flesh, barely able to move.
They laughed and struggled to disengage themselves, both falling on to their backs, sucking air and listening for the sounds of normal respiration to return. She tried to revive his flagging momentum by offering him her virgin butt. He hurriedly yanked at his limp member and pleaded for one more hum-job, but the circus had left town. Mademoiselle Louise reached for a towel to dry her sleek physique and stretched like a slinky house-cat warming itself in the sun. Her hands swept through her damp mop of satiny hair and her toes flexed and curled in the aftermath of exaltation. He gingerly held his flaccid cock in his hand and wiped the perspiration from his face and neck.
Somebody quietly knocked at the door. A minute later the door opened, and on the doorstep were standing Lieutenant Gerhard and two other officers of the Dragoon Regiment. In the twilight they've halted in amazement watching with excitement naked Graf von Kneib and Mademoiselle Louise lying on bed. Graf von Kneib smiled and got up giving his fellow officers his place beside Louise.
The next who must fuck Mademoiselle Louise was Lieutenant Gerhard. He was very dulcet with her. Firstly the long time the Lieutenant kissed Louise slobbery and lewdly, caressing with his tongue her mouth inside. Then he tenderly helped her to get doggy on all fours on bed sheets already stained with Louise blood and the sperm. There were not the trousers on him already.
He had knelt down behind Mademoiselle Louise, enough easily thrusted his cock into her vagina already full of the warm Graf’s cum, and began to fuck Louise very quickly like a dog, squeezing from behind with both his palms her boobs. The sperm of the previous fucker, Graf von Kneib, was sloshing in Louise vagina. This squelch of sperm was clearly audible to other German officers. They fucked like two stray dogs perhaps a quarter of an hour Mademoiselle Louise and this German Lieutenant, an enemy of her dear France. Lieutenant Gerhard had got finally his sweet pleasure and satisfaction from Mademoiselle Louise.
Mademoiselle Louise also tried to participate in their fuck moving with her gentle ass in tact with the Lieutenant’s movements. Lieutenant Gerhard was so gentle with Louise, the source of his pleasure, and when he was fucking Mademoiselle Louise , he was agitatedly repeating: "Ah you my sweet French doll! Ah you my nicy!" Sometime, in the midst of her sexual intercourse with this German Lieutenant, the thought about her dear maman flashed in her mind: "What is she doing now? Probably just sleeping sweetly... What time is it now?" Louise really lost all sense of time during this her first so tempestuous sex.
During that night the four officers of German army in turn did with Mademoiselle Louise two sexual intercourses each. The sheets on her bed were in spots of sperm and blood. Mademoiselle Louise thighs, pubic, whole lower abdomen were lavishly smeared with the cum of these German males. Finally they finished obtaining their sexual satisfaction before their regiment departure.
Now Mademoiselle Louise represented a quite pitiful sight - disheveled, with the kiss hickeys on her breasts and neck, bedraggled with the sperm of these four males, and awfully tired. Her deflorated stretched vagina, fucked with four big cocks, was aching. Her uterus was still continuing to commit the rhythmic contractions, keeping the memory of the four hottest male batons.
Dawned already.
At last the four German men left Mademoiselle Louise room.
Mademoiselle Louise is laying motionless on her bed, her legs flung out shamelessly. Her pussy was aching, all the time out of her pussy constantly was flowing the warm cum and dripping down along the inner surface of her thighs, dirtying the sheet. Mademoiselle Louise pantaloons were also thickly impregnated with whitish withered sperm, blood stains were visible too. She wondered: "If I get pregnant, whose a baby will be?" Her pussy was hurt. Out of her vagina was still flowing the cum of these four strange casual German military men.
The door creaked, and Madame Charlotte appeared with a candle in her hand though already dawn broke.
“Louise, what's wrong? Why are you like this?” she asked anxiously.
Mademoiselle Louise waved her hand negligently and said: "I had sex with four German officers".
"What?!" exclaimed Madam Charlotte, "Are you out of your mind?! What are you saying?!"
"Yes, they have fucked me." Louise uttered saucily, and added: "Foursome".
In the morning the German regiment left the manor. Nine months later Louise gave birth to a son. She named her son Frederick in honour of that 8th Dragoons Regiment "King Frederick III".



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