utterly destroyed, its guns and baggage abandoned to the victors.

"Didn't I tell you so!" shouted Rochas, in his most thundering voice.
Then, running after Weiss, who, light of heart, was hastening to get
back to Mulhausen: "To Berlin, sir, and we'll kick them every step of
the way!"

A quarter of an hour later came another dispatch, announcing that the
army had been compelled to evacuate Woerth and was retreating. Ah,
what a night was that! Rochas, overpowered by sleep, wrapped his cloak
about him, threw himself down on the bare ground, as he had done many
a time before. Maurice and Jean sought the shelter of the tent, into
which were crowded, a confused tangle of arms and legs, Loubet,
Chouteau, Pache, and Lapoulle, their heads resting on their knapsacks.
There was room for six, provided they were careful how they disposed
of their legs. Loubet, by way of diverting his comrades and making
them forget their hunger, had labored for some time to convince
Lapoulle that there was to be a ration of poultry issued the next
morning, but they were too sleepy to keep up the joke; they were
snoring, and the Prussians might come, it was all one to them. Jean
lay for a moment without stirring, pressing close against Maurice;
notwithstanding his fatigue he was unable to sleep; he could not help
thinking of the things that gentleman had said, how all Germany was up
in arms and preparing to pour her devastating hordes across the Rhine;
and he felt that his tent-mate was not sleeping, either--was thinking
of the same things as he. Then the latter turned over impatiently and
moved away, and the other understood that his presence was not
agreeable. There was a lack of sympathy between the peasant and the
man of culture, an enmity of caste and education that amounted almost
to physical aversion. The former, however, experienced a sensation of