, with a touching
devotion, following him to the very edge of the darkness? I do not
think, so deeply possessed was he by his mission, that he saw her. Dupin
is very determined in his way; but he is imaginative and thoughtful, and
it is very possible that, as he required all his powers to brace him for
this enterprise, he made it a principle neither to look to the right
hand nor the left. When we paused, and following after our two
representatives, Madame Dupin stepped forth, a thrill ran through us
all. Some would have called to her, for I heard many broken
exclamations; but most of us were too much startled to speak. We thought
nothing less than that she was about to risk herself by going after them
into the city. If that was her intention--and nothing is more probable;
for women are very daring, though they are timid--she was stopped, it is
most likely, by that curious inability to move a step farther which we
have all experienced. We saw her pause, clasp her hands in despair (or
it might be in token of farewell to her husband), then, instead of
returning, seat herself on the road on the edge of the darkness. It was
a relief to all who were looking on to see her there.

In the reaction after that excitement I found myself in face of a great
difficulty--what to do with my men, to keep them from demoralisation.
They were greatly excited; and yet there was nothing to be done for
them, for myself, for any of us, but to wait. To organise the patrol
again, under the circumstances, would have been impossible. Dupin,
perhaps, might have tried it with that _bourgeois_ determination which
so often carries its point in spite of all higher intelligence; but to
me, who have not this commonplace way of looking at things, it was
impossible. The worthy soul did not think in what a difficulty he left
us. That intolerable, good-for-nothing Jacques Richard (whom Dupin
protects unwisely, I cannot tell why), and who was already
half-seas-over, had drawn several of his comrades with him towards the
_cabaret_, which was always a danger to us. 'We will drink success to M.
le Maire,' he said, '_mes bons amis_! That can do no one any harm; and
as we have spoken up, as we have empowered him to offer handsome terms
to _Messieurs les Morts_----'

It was intolerable. Precisely at the moment when our fortune hung in the
balance, and when, perhaps, an indiscreet word--'Arrest that fellow,' I
said. 'Riou, you are an official; you understand your du