of their leader as he looked at Marche-a-Terre eating his bread by the
side of the road. But Hulot's face soon cleared; he began to rejoice
in the opportunity to fight for the Republic, and he joyously vowed to
escape being the dupe of the Chouans, and to fathom the wily and
impenetrable being whom they had done him the honor to employ against
him.

Before taking any resolution he set himself to study the position in
which it was evident the enemy intended to surprise him. Observing
that the road where the column had halted was about to pass through a
sort of gorge, short to be sure, but flanked with woods from which
several paths appeared to issue, he frowned heavily, and said to his
two friends, in a low voice of some emotion:--

"We're in a devil of a wasp's-nest."

"What do you fear?" asked Gerard.

"Fear? Yes, that's it, /fear/," returned the commandant. "I have
always had a fear of being shot like a dog at the edge of a wood,
without a chance of crying out 'Who goes there?'"

"Pooh!" said Merle, laughing, "'Who goes there' is all humbug."

"Are we in any real danger?" asked Gerard, as much surprised by
Hulot's coolness as he was by his evident alarm.

"Hush!" said the commandant, in a low voice. "We are in the jaws of
the wolf; it is as dark as a pocket; and we must get some light.
Luckily, we've got the upper end of the slope!"