Gay, thoughtless, and animated by the imperturbable confidence of a
child, they were marching along, arm in arm, singing patriotic songs.

On horseback, in the centre of the band, M. Lacheneur felt his hair
turning white with anguish.

Would not this delay ruin everything? What would the others, who were
waiting at the Croix d'Arcy, think! What were they doing at this very
moment?

"Onward! onward!" he repeated.

Maurice, Chanlouineau, Jean, Marie-Anne, and about twenty of the old
soldiers of the Empire, understood and shared Lacheneur's despair. They
knew the terrible danger they were incurring, and they, too, repeated:

"Faster! Let us march faster!"

Vain exhortation! It pleased these people to go slowly.

Suddenly the entire band stopped. Some of the peasants, chancing to look
back, had seen the lamps of Mlle. de Courtornieu's carriage gleaming in
the darkness.

It came rapidly onward, and soon overtook them. The peasants recognized
the coachman's livery, and greeted the vehicle with shouts of derision.

M. de Courtornieu, by his avariciousness, had made even more enemies
than the Duc de Sairmeuse; and all the peasants who thought they had
more or less reason to complain of his extortions were delighted at this