f taking Sergeant Sapin into the ambulance. It was
sufficiently evident that since then they had been strolling and seeing
the sights, taking care to keep out of the way of the shells, until
finally they had brought up at this inn that was given over to pillage.

Lieutenant Rochas was very angry. "Wait a bit, you scoundrels, just
wait, and I'll attend to your case! deserting and getting drunk while
the rest of your company were under fire!"

But Chouteau would have none of his reprimand. "See here, you old
lunatic, I want you to understand that the grade of lieutenant is
abolished; we are all free and equal now. Aren't you satisfied with the
basting the Prussians gave you to-day, or do you want some more?"

The others had to restrain the lieutenant to keep him from assaulting
the socialist. Loubet himself, dandling his bottles affectionately in
his arms, did what he could to pour oil upon the troubled waters.

"Quit that, now! what's the use quarreling, when all men are brothers!"
And catching sight of Lapoulle and Pache, his companions in the squad:
"Don't stand there like great gawks, you fellows! Come in here and take
something to wash the dust out of your throats."

Lapoulle hesitated a moment, dimly conscious of the impropriety there
was in the indulgence when so many poor devils were in such sore
distress, but he was so knocked up with fatigue, so terribly hungry and
thirsty! He said not a word, but suddenly making up his mind, gave one
bound and landed in the room, pushing before him Pache, who, equally
silent, yielded to the temptation he had not strength to resist. And
they were seen no more.

"The infernal scoundrels!" muttered Rochas. "They deserve to be shot,
every mother's son of them!"

He had now remaining with him of his party only Jean, Maurice, and
Gaude, and all four of them, notwithstanding their resistance, were
gradually involved and swallowed up in the torrent of stragglers and
fugitives that streamed along the road, filling its whole width from
ditch to ditch. Soon they were at a distance from the inn. It was the
routed army rolling down upon the ramparts of Sedan, a roily, roaring
flood, such as the disintegrated mass of earth and boulders that the
storm, scouring the mountainside, sweeps down into the valley. From all
the surrounding plateaus, down every slope, up every narrow gorge, by
the Floing road, by Pierremont, by the cemetery, by the Champ de Mars,
as well as through the Fond de