er the village
unperceived in their rear, prepared to run with them should they take
the double-quick. But they had scarcely begun to move when they came to
a halt again. The projectiles were now falling thick and fast; to regain
possession of Bazeilles it would be necessary to dispute every inch of
the road, occupying the cross-streets, the houses and gardens on either
side of the way. A brisk fire of musketry proceeded from the head of
the column, the advance was irregular, by fits and starts, every petty
obstacle entailed a delay of many minutes. She felt that she would never
attain her end by remaining there at the rear of the column, waiting
for it to fight its way through, and with prompt decision she bent her
course to the right and took a path that led downward between two hedges
to the meadows.

Henriette's plan now was to reach Bazeilles by those broad levels that
border the Meuse. She was not very clear about it in her mind, however,
and continued to hasten onward in obedience to that blind instinct which
had originally imparted to her its impulse. She had not gone far before
she found herself standing and gazing in dismay at a miniature ocean
which barred her further progress in that direction. It was the
inundated fields, the low-lying lands that a measure of defense had
converted into a lake, which had escaped her memory. For a single moment
she thought of turning back; then, at the risk of leaving her shoes
behind, she pushed on, hugging the bank, through the water that covered
the grass and rose above her ankles. For a hundred yards her way, though
difficult, was not impracticable; then she encountered a garden-wall
directly in her front; the ground fell off sharply, and where the wall
terminated the water was six feet deep. Her path was closed effectually;
she clenched her little fists and had to summon up all her resolution
to keep from bursting into tears. When the first shock of disappointment
had passed over she made her way along the enclosure and found a narrow
lane that pursued a tortuous course among the scattered houses. She
believed that now her troubles were at an end, for she was acquainted
with that labyrinth, that tangled maze of passages, which, to one who
had the key to them, ended at the village.

But the missiles seemed to be falling there even more thickly than
elsewhere. Henriette stopped short in her tracks and all the blood in
her body seemed to flow back upon her heart at a frigh