edroom of the provincial inn with its conventional furnishings:
the chairs covered with crimson damask, the mahogany _armoire a glace_,
and on the mantel the imitation bronze clock, flanked by a pair of conch
shells and vases of artificial flowers under glass covers. On either
side of the door was a little single bed, to one of which the wearied
aide-de-camp betook himself at nine o'clock and was immediately wrapped
in soundest slumber. On the other the Emperor, to whom the god of sleep
was less benignant, tossed almost the whole night through, and if
he arose to try to quiet his excited nerves by walking, the sole
distraction that his eyes encountered was a pair of engravings that were
hung to right and left of the chimney, one depicting Rouget de Lisle
singing the Marseillaise, the other a crude representation of the
Last Judgment, the dead rising from their graves at the sound of the
Archangel's trump, the resurrection of the victims of the battlefield,
about to appear before their God to bear witness against their rulers.

The imperial baggage train, cause in its day of so much scandal, had
been left behind at Sedan, where it rested in ignominious hiding behind
the Sous-Prefet's lilac bushes. It puzzled the authorities somewhat to
devise means for ridding themselves of what was to them a _bete noire_,
for getting it away from the city unseen by the famishing multitude,
upon whom the sight of its flaunting splendor would have produced much
the same effect that a red rag does on a maddened bull. They waited
until there came an unusually dark night, when horses, carriages, and
baggage-wagons, with their silver stew-pans, plate, linen, and baskets
of fine wines, all trooped out of Sedan in deepest mystery and shaped
their course for Belgium, noiselessly, without beat of drum, over the
least frequented roads like a thief stealing away in the night.

PART THIRD

I.

All the long, long day of the battle Silvine, up on Remilly hill, where
Father Fouchard's little farm was situated, but her heart and soul
absent with Honore amid the dangers of the conflict, never once took
her eyes from off Sedan, where the guns were roaring. The following day,
moreover, her anxiety was even greater still, being increased by her
inability to obtain any definite tidings, for the Prussians who were
guarding the roads in the vicinity refused to answer questions, as much
from reasons of policy as because they knew but very littl