a horrible catastrophe, and many men must have been
crushed to death in the mad struggle to escape from the funnel-like
gorge.

The colonel--he was very pale--turned and spoke to the soldiers:

"My children, my children, be a little patient. I have sent to see what
is the matter--it will only be a moment--"

But they did not advance, and the seconds seemed like centuries. Jean,
quite cool and collected, resumed his hold of Maurice's hand, and
whispered to him that, in case their comrades began to shove, they two
could leave the road, climb the hill on the left, and make their way
to the stream. He looked about to see where the francs-tireurs were,
thinking he might gain some information from them regarding the roads,
but was told they had vanished while the column was passing through
Raucourt. Just then the march was resumed, and almost immediately a bend
in the road took them out of range of the German batteries. Later in
the day it was ascertained that it was four cuirassier regiments of
Bonnemain's division who, in the disorder of that ill-starred retreat,
had thus blocked the road of the 7th corps and delayed the march.

It was nearly dark when the 106th passed through Angecourt. The wooded
hills continued on the right, but to the left the country was more
level, and a valley was visible in the distance, veiled in bluish mists.
At last, just as the shades of night were descending, they stood on
the heights of Remilly and beheld a ribbon of pale silver unrolling its
length upon a broad expanse of verdant plain. It was the Meuse, that
Meuse they had so longed to see, and where it seemed as if victory
awaited them.

Pointing to some lights in the distance that were beginning to twinkle
cheerily among the trees, down in that fertile valley that lay there
so peaceful in the mellow twilight, Maurice said to Jean, with the glad
content of a man revisiting a country that he knows and loves:

"Look! over that way--that is Sedan!"

VII.

Remilly is built on a hill that rises from the left bank of the Meuse,
presenting the appearance of an amphitheater; the one village street
that meanders circuitously down the sharp descent was thronged with men,
horses, and vehicles in dire confusion. Half-way up the hill, in front
of the church, some drivers had managed to interlock the wheels of their
guns, and all the oaths and blows of the artillerymen were unavailing to
get them forward. Further down, near the woolen mil