a clanking of steel from without. With a stentorian shout of 'In the
name of the Emperor!' a single violent wrench tore the door of the hut
from its hinges.

It was still blowing hard, and through the open doorway I could see a
thick cluster of mounted men, with plumes slanted and mantles flapping,
the rain shining upon their shoulders. At the side the light from the
hut struck upon the heads of two beautiful horses, and upon the heavy
red-toupeed busbies of the hussars who stood at their heads. In the
doorway stood another hussar--a man of high rank, as could be seen from
the richness of his dress and the distinction of his bearing. He was
booted to the knees, with a uniform of light blue and silver, which his
tall, slim, light-cavalry figure suited to a marvel. I could not but
admire the way in which he carried himself, for he never deigned to draw
the sword which shone at his side, but he stood in the doorway glancing
round the blood-bespattered hut, and staring at its occupants with a
very cool and alert expression. He had a handsome face, pale and
clear-cut, with a bristling moustache, which cut across the brass
chin-chain of his busby.

'Well,' said he, 'well?'

The older man had put his pistol back into the breast of his brown coat.

'This is Lucien Lesage,' said he.

The hussar looked with disgust at the prostrate figure upon the floor.

'A pretty conspirator!' said he. 'Get up, you grovelling hound! Here,
Gerard, take charge of him and bring him into camp.'