“The devil!” exclaimed Rochas; “so they have already been exchanging civilities in this quarter!”

Then all hands, desiring to ascertain what was going on, hurried forward to the house, and there their curiosity was quickly gratified; the doors and windows of the rez-de-chaussee had been smashed in with musket-butts and the yawning apertures disclosed the destruction that the marauders had wrought in the rooms within, while on the graveled terrace lay various articles of furniture that had been hurled from the stoop.  Particularly noticeable was a drawing-room suite in sky-blue satin, its sofa and twelve fauteuils piled in dire confusion, helter-skelter, on and around a great center table, the marble top of which was broken in twain.  And there were zouaves, chasseurs, liners, and men of the infanterie de marine running to and fro excitedly behind the buildings and in the alleys, discharging their pieces into the little wood that faced them across the valley.

“Lieutenant,” a zouave said to Rochas, by way of explanation, “we found a pack of those dirty Prussian hounds here, smashing things and raising Cain generally.  We settled their hash for them, as you can see for yourself; only they will be coming back here presently, ten to our one, and that won’t be so pleasant.”

Three other corpses of Prussian soldiers were stretched upon the terrace.  As Henriette was looking at them absently, her thoughts doubtless far away with her husband, who, amid the blood and ashes of Bazeilles, was also sleeping his last sleep, a bullet whistled close to her head and struck a tree that stood behind her.  Jean sprang forward.

“Madame, don’t stay there.  Go inside the house, quick, quick!”

His heart overflowed with pity as he beheld the change her terrible affliction had wrought in her, and he recalled her image as she had appeared to him only the day before, her face bright with the kindly smile of the happy, loving wife.  At first he had found no word to say to her, hardly knowing even if she would recognize him.  He felt that he could gladly give his life, if that would serve to restore her peace of mind.

“Go inside, and don’t come out.  At the first sign of danger we will come for you, and we will all escape together by way of the wood up yonder.”

But she apathetically replied: 

“Ah, M. Jean, what is the use?”

Her brother, however, was also urging her, and finally she ascended the stoop and took her position within the vestibule, whence her vision commanded a view of the avenue in its entire length.  She was a spectator of the ensuing combat.

Maurice and Jean had posted themselves behind one of the elms near the house.  The gigantic trunks of the centenarian monarchs were amply sufficient to afford shelter to two men.  A little way from them Gaude, the bugler, had joined forces with Lieutenant Rochas, who, unwilling to confide the flag to other hands, had rested it against the tree at his side while he handled his musket.  And every trunk had its defenders; from end to end the avenue was lined with men covered, Indian fashion, by the trees, who only exposed their head when ready to fire.