every one appreciated
the danger. The little company drew together in the darkness.

Montbar, who knew the windings of the subterranean passage almost as
well as Morgan, directed the troop, and, followed by his companions, he
plunged into the heart of the quarry. Suddenly, as he neared the gate of
the passage, he fancied he heard an order given in a low tone not fifty
feet away, then a sound like the cocking of guns. He stretched out both
arms and muttered in a low voice:

"Halt!" At the same instant came the command, this time perfectly
audible: "Fire!"

It was hardly given before the cavern was lighted with a glare, followed
by a frightful volley. Ten carbines had been discharged at once into the
narrow passage. By their light Montbar and his companions recognized the
uniform of the gendarmes.

"Fire!" cried Montbar in turn.

Seven or eight shots answered the command. Again the darkness was
illuminated. Two of the Companions of Jehu lay upon the ground, one
killed outright, the other mortally wounded.

"Our retreat is cut off, my friends," cried Montbar. "To the
right-about! If we have a chance, it is through the forest."

The movement was executed with the precision of a military manoeuvre.
Montbar, again at the head of his companions, retraced his steps. At
that moment the gendarmes fired again. But no one replied. Those who had
discharged their guns reloaded them. Those who had not, reserved their
fire for the real struggle which was to come. One or two sighs alone
told that the last volley of the gendarmes had not been without result.

At the end of five minutes Montbar stopped. The little party had reached
the open space of the quarry.

"Are your pistols and guns all loaded?" he asked.

"Yes," answered a dozen voices.

"Remember the order for those who fall into the hands of the police. We
belong to the army of M. de Teyssonnet, and we are here to recruit
men for the royalist cause. If they talk to us of mail-coaches and
diligences, we don't know what they mean."

"Agreed."

"In either case it will be death. We know that well enough; but the
death of a soldier is better than that of thieves--the volley of a
platoon rather than the guillotine."

"Yes, yes," cried a mocking voice, "we know what that is--Vive la
fusillade!"

"Forward, friends!" said Montbar, "and let us sell our lives for what
they are worth; that is to say, as dearly as possible."

"Forward!" they all cried.

Then, as rapidl