alloped to the crossroads. The place was
deserted. At the entrance of one of the roads stood the cabriolet which
had brought M. d'Escorval and the abbe.

At last M. Lacheneur saw the fugitives approaching in the distance. He
dashed forward, to meet them, trying by mingled curses and insults to
stay their flight.

"Cowards!" he vociferated, "traitors! You flee--and you are ten against
one! Where are you going? To your own homes. Fools! you will find
the gendarmes there only awaiting your coming to conduct you to the
scaffold. Is it not better to die with your weapons in your hands?
Come--right about. Follow me! We may still conquer. Reinforcements are
at hand; two thousand men are following me!"

He promised them two thousand men; had he promised them ten thousand,
twenty thousand--an army and cannon, it would have made no difference.

Not until they reached the wide-open space of the cross-roads, where
they had talked so confidently scarcely an hour before, did the most
intelligent of the throng regain their senses, while the others fled in
every direction.

About a hundred of the bravest and most determined of the conspirators
gathered around M. Lacheneur. In the little crowd was the abbe, gloomy
and despondent. He had been separated from the baron. What had been his
fate? Had he been killed or taken prisoner? Was it possible that he had
made his escape?

The worthy priest dared not go away. He waited, hoping that his
companion might rejoin him, and deemed himself fortunate in finding
the carriage still there. He was still waiting when the remnant of the
column confided to Maurice and Chanlouineau came up.

Of the five hundred men that composed it on its departure from
Sairmeuse, only fifteen remained, including the two retired officers.

Marie-Anne was in the centre of this little party.

M. Lacheneur and his friends were trying to decide what course it was
best for them to pursue. Should each man go his way? or should they
unite, and by an obstinate resistance, give all their comrades time to
reach their homes?

The voice of Chanlouineau put an end to all hesitation.

"I have come to fight," he exclaimed, "and I shall sell my life dearly."

"We will make a stand then!" cried the others.

But Chanlouineau did not follow them to the spot which they had
considered best adapted to the prolonged defence; he called Maurice and
drew him a little aside.

"You, Monsieur d'Escorval," he said, almost roughly, "