even.... Do just as if my husband were here."

"M. Morestal said something about a stock of cartridges," asked the
captain.

"In the boxes in the harness-room. Here are the keys."

The men redoubled their activity. The Old Mill was ransacked; and the
soldiers passed laden with mattresses, sofas, old oak chests, hangings
also and carpets, with which they stopped up the holes and the windows.

"The flames are spreading," said the captain, going to the top of the
staircase. "There's nothing left of Farmer Saboureux's buildings.... But
by what miracle ...? Who set the place on fire?..."

"I did."

A peasant stood at the top of the steps, in a scorched blouse, with his
face all blackened.

"You, Saboureux?"

"Yes, I," growled Saboureux, fiercely. "I had to.... I heard you over
there: 'If we could only stop them,' says you. 'If I had half an hour to
spare!'... Well, there's your half an hour for you.... I set fire to
the shanty."

"And very nearly roasted me inside it," grinned Old Poussiere, who was
with the farmer. "I was asleep in the straw...."

The captain nodded his head:

"By Jove, Farmer Saboureux, but that's a damned sportsmanlike thing
you've done! I formed a wrong opinion of you. I apologize. May I shake
you by the hand?"

The peasant put out his hand and then walked away, with his back bent in
two. He sat down in a corner of the drawing-room. Poussiere also huddled
into a chair, took a piece of bread from his pocket, broke it and gave
half to Saboureux, as though he thought it only natural to share what he
had with the man who had nothing left.

"Here's Duvauchel, sir!" announced a rifleman. "Here's Duvauchel!"

The staircase was too narrow and they had to bring the stretcher round
by the garden. The captain ran to meet the wounded man, who made an
effort to stand on his legs:

"What's up, Duvauchel? Are you hit?"

"Not I, sir, not I," said the man, whose face was livid and his eyes
burning with fever. "A cherry-stone tickled my shoulder, by way of a
lark. It's nothing...."

"But the blood's flowing...."

"It's nothing, I tell you, sir.... I know all about it.... Saw plenty of
it as a greaser!... It won't show in five minutes ... and then I'm
off...."

"Oh, of course, I forgot, you're deserting!..."

"Rather! The comrades are waiting for me...."

"Then begin by getting your wound dressed...."

"My wound dressed? Oh, that's a good one! I tell you, sir, it's nothing
... less than nothin