We had been travelling since morning, three of us--my father, General Count Mahon, myself, and Joubert--to say nothing of Marengo the boarhound which followed our carriage. The great old family travelling-carriage, packed with luggage, wine, and cigars, and drawn by two stout horses, had been making the dust of Germany fly over the hedgeless German fields since dawn. It was noon now, and hot. I remember still the exact feel and smell of the blazing blue cushions as I pressed my childish cheek against them and felt how hot they were, and the unfailing pleasure and wonder with which the apple and plum trees bordering the road filled my soul. Apple trees and plum trees bordering the road, laden…
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