ath; the German patrols that were sent through
the city even discovered them stowed away under beds. And as many, even
after they were unearthed, stubbornly persisted in remaining in the
cellars whither they had fled for shelter, the patrols were obliged to
fire on them through the coal-holes. It was a man-hunt, a brutal and
cruel battue, during which the city resounded with rifle-shots and
outlandish oaths.

At the Pont du Meuse they found a throng which the donkey was unable to
penetrate and were brought to a stand-still. The officer commanding the
guard at the bridge, suspecting they were endeavoring to carry on an
illicit traffic in bread or meat, insisted on seeing with his own eyes
what was contained in the cart; drawing aside the covering, he gazed for
an instant on the corpse with a feeling expression, then motioned them
to go their way. Still, however, they were unable to get forward, the
crowd momentarily grew denser and denser; one of the first detachments
of French prisoners was being conducted to the peninsula of Iges under
escort of a Prussian guard. The sorry band streamed on in long array,
the men in their tattered, dirty uniforms crowding one another, treading
on one another's heels, with bowed heads and sidelong, hang-dog looks,
the dejected gait and bearing of the vanquished to whom had been left
not even so much as a knife with which to cut their throat. The harsh,
curt orders of the guard urging them forward resounded like the cracking
of a whip in the silence, which was unbroken save for the plashing of
their coarse shoes through the semi-liquid mud. Another shower began
to fall, and there could be no more sorrowful sight than that band of
disheartened soldiers, shuffling along through the rain, like beggars
and vagabonds on the public highway.

All at once Prosper, whose heart was beating as if it would burst his
bosom with repressed sorrow and indignation, nudged Silvine and called
her attention to two soldiers who were passing at the moment. He had
recognized Maurice and Jean, trudging along with their companions, like
brothers, side by side. They were near the end of the line, and as there
was now no impediment in their way, he was enabled to keep them in view
as far as the Faubourg of Torcy, as they traversed the level road which
leads to Iges between gardens and truck farms.

"Ah!" murmured Silvine, distressed by what she had just seen, fixing her
eyes on Honore's body, "it may be that the