erstand," said Weiss, with a repetition of his previous gesture,
extending his arms and bringing his hands slowly together, "that is how
it will be unless your generals keep their eyes open. The movement at
Bazeilles is only a feint--"

But his explanation was confused and unintelligible to the lieutenant,
who knew nothing of the country, and the young man shrugged his
shoulders with an expression of impatience and disdain for the bourgeois
in spectacles and frock coat who presumed to set his opinion against the
marshal's. Irritated to hear Weiss reiterate his view that the attack on
Bazeilles was intended only to mask other and more important movements,
he finally shouted:

"Hold your tongue, will you! We shall drive them all into the Meuse,
those Bavarian friends of yours, and that is all they will get by their
precious feint."

While they were talking the enemy's skirmishers seemed to have come up
closer; every now and then their bullets were heard thudding against
the dyehouse wall, and our men, kneeling behind the low parapet of
the courtyard, were beginning to reply. Every second the report of a
chassepot rang out, sharp and clear, upon the air.

"Oh, of course! drive them into the Meuse, by all means," muttered
Weiss, "and while we are about it we might as well ride them down and
regain possession of the Carignan road." Then addressing himself to
Delaherche, who had stationed himself behind the pump where he might be
out of the way of the bullets: "All the same, it would have been their
wisest course to make tracks last night for Mezieres, and if I were in
their place I would much rather be there than here. As it is, however,
they have got to show fight, since retreat is out of the question now."

"Are you coming?" asked Delaherche, who, notwithstanding his eager
curiosity, was beginning to look pale in the face. "We shall be unable
to get into the city if we remain here longer."

"Yes, in one minute I will be with you."

In spite of the danger that attended the movement he raised himself
on tiptoe, possessed by an irresistible desire to see how things were
shaping. On the right lay the meadows that had been flooded by order of
the governor for the protection of the city, now a broad lake stretching
from Torcy to Balan, its unruffled bosom glimmering in the morning
sunlight with a delicate azure luster. The water did not extend as far
as Bazeilles, however, and the Prussians had worked their way forward
a