ows, affrighted by the
noise of the cannonade, rose high in air, wheeled, and vanished in the
south.

IV.

Between the city and Balan, Henriette got over the ground at a good,
round pace. It was not yet nine o'clock; the broad footpath, bordered by
gardens and pretty cottages, was as yet comparatively free, although as
she approached the village it began to be more and more obstructed by
flying citizens and moving troops. When she saw a great surge of the
human tide advancing on her she hugged the walls and house-fronts, and
by dint of address and perseverance slipped through, somehow. The fold
of black lace that half concealed her fair hair and small, pale face,
the sober gown that enveloped her slight form, made her an inconspicuous
object among the throng; she went her way unnoticed by the by-passers,
and nothing retarded her light, silent steps.

At Balan, however, she found the road blocked by a regiment of
infanterie de marine. It was a compact mass of men, drawn up under the
tall trees that concealed them from the enemy's observation, awaiting
orders. She raised herself on tiptoe, and could not see the end; still,
she made herself as small as she could and attempted to worm her way
through. The men shoved her with their elbows, and the butts of their
muskets made acquaintance with her ribs; when she had advanced a dozen
paces there was a chorus of shouts and angry protests. A captain turned
on her and roughly cried:

"Hi, there, you woman! are you crazy? Where are you going?"

"I am going to Bazeilles."

"What, to Bazeilles?"

There was a shout of laughter. The soldiers pointed at her with their
fingers; she was the object of their witticisms. The captain, also,
greatly amused by the incident, had to have his joke.

"You should take us along with you, my little dear, if you are going
to Bazeilles. We were there a short while ago, and I am in hope that
we shall go back there, but I can tell you that the temperature of the
place is none too cool."

"I am going to Bazeilles to look for my husband," Henriette declared,
in her gentle voice, while her blue eyes shone with undiminished
resolution.

The laughter ceased; an old sergeant extricated her from the crowd that
had collected around her, and forced her to retrace her steps.

"My poor child, you see it is impossible to get through. Bazeilles is
no place for you. You will find your husband by and by. Come, listen to
reason!"

She had to obey,