, for his selfishness.

"To-night we'll keep a watch on him, don't you see. We'll learn whether
he dares to stuff himself on the sly, when so many poor devils are
starving all around him."

"Yes, yes, that's the talk! we'll follow him," Lapoulle angrily
declared. "We'll see about it!"

He doubled his fists; he was like a crazy man whenever the subject of
eating was mentioned in his presence. His enormous appetite caused him
to suffer more than the others; his torment at times was such that he
had been known to stuff his mouth with grass. For more than thirty-six
hours, since the night when they had supped on horseflesh and he had
contracted a terrible dysentery in consequence, he had been without
food, for he was so little able to look out for himself that,
notwithstanding his bovine strength, whenever he joined the others in a
marauding raid he never got his share of the booty. He would have been
willing to give his blood for a pound of bread.

As it was beginning to be dark Pache stealthily made his way to the Tour
a Glaire and slipped into the park, while the three others cautiously
followed him at a distance.

"It won't do to let him suspect anything," said Chouteau. "Be on your
guard in case he should look around."

But when he had advanced another hundred paces Pache evidently had no
idea there was anyone near, for he began to hurry forward at a swift
gait, not so much as casting a look behind. They had no difficulty in
tracking him to the adjacent quarries, where they fell on him as he was
in the act of removing two great flat stones, to take from the cavity
beneath part of a loaf of bread. It was the last of his store; he had
enough left for one more meal.

"You dirty, sniveling priest's whelp!" roared Lapoulle, "so that is why
you sneak away from us! Give me that; it's my share!"

Why should he give his bread? Weak and puny as he was, his slight form
dilated with anger, while he clutched the loaf against his bosom with
all the strength he could master. For he also was hungry.

"Let me alone. It's mine."

Then, at sight of Lapoulle's raised fist, he broke away and ran, sliding
down the steep banks of the quarries, making his way across the bare
fields in the direction of Donchery, the three others after him in
hot pursuit. He gained on them, however, being lighter than they, and
possessed by such overmastering fear, so determined to hold on to
what was his property, that his speed seemed to rival the