emained to be crossed before they could gain
the river bank. They ran across this, and, as soon as they were at the
water's edge, concealed themselves among the dry reeds.

Morissot placed his ear to the ground, to ascertain, if possible,
whether footsteps were coming their way. He heard nothing. They seemed
to be utterly alone.

Their confidence was restored, and they began to fish.

Before them the deserted Ile Marante hid them from the farther shore.
The little restaurant was closed, and looked as if it had been deserted
for years.

Monsieur Sauvage caught the first gudgeon, Monsieur Morissot the second,
and almost every moment one or other raised his line with a little,
glittering, silvery fish wriggling at the end; they were having
excellent sport.

They slipped their catch gently into a close-meshed bag lying at their
feet; they were filled with joy--the joy of once more indulging in a
pastime of which they had long been deprived.

The sun poured its rays on their backs; they no longer heard anything
or thought of anything. They ignored the rest of the world; they were
fishing.

But suddenly a rumbling sound, which seemed to come from the bowels of
the earth, shook the ground beneath them: the cannon were resuming their
thunder.

Morissot turned his head and could see toward the left, beyond the banks
of the river, the formidable outline of Mont-Valerien, from whose summit
arose a white puff of smoke.

The next instant a second puff followed the first, and in a few moments
a fresh detonation made the earth tremble.

Others followed, and minute by minute the mountain gave forth its deadly
breath and a white puff of smoke, which rose slowly into the peaceful
heaven and floated above the summit of the cliff.

Monsieur Sauvage shrugged his shoulders.

"They are at it again!" he said.

Morissot, who was anxiously watching his float bobbing up and down, was
suddenly seized with the angry impatience of a peaceful man toward the
madmen who were firing thus, and remarked indignantly:

"What fools they are to kill one another like that!"

"They're worse than animals," replied Monsieur Sauvage.

And Morissot, who had just caught a bleak, declared:

"And to think that it will be just the same so long as there are
governments!"

"The Republic would not have declared war," interposed Monsieur Sauvage.

Morissot interrupted him:

"Under a king we have foreign wars; under a republic we have civil war."