"They must have altered the plan of operations," Silvere replied; "we
were, in fact, to have marched to the chief town by the Toulon road,
passing to the left of Plassans and Orcheres. They must have left
Alboise this afternoon and passed Les Tulettes this evening."

The head of the column had already arrived in front of the young people.
The little army was more orderly than one would have expected from a
band of undisciplined men. The contingents from the various towns and
villages formed separate battalions, each separated by a distance of a
few paces. These battalions were apparently under the orders of certain
chiefs. For the nonce the pace at which they were descending the
hillside made them a compact mass of invincible strength. There were
probably about three thousand men, all united and carried away by the
same storm of indignation. The strange details of the scene were not
discernible amidst the shadows cast over the highway by the lofty
slopes. At five or six feet from the brushwood, however, where Miette
and Silvere were sheltered, the left-hand embankment gave place to
a little pathway which ran alongside the Viorne; and the moonlight,
flowing through this gap, cast a broad band of radiance across the road.
When the first insurgents reached this patch of light they were
suddenly illumined by a sharp white glow which revealed, with singular
distinctness, every outline of visage or costume. And as the various
contingents swept on, the young people thus saw them emerge, fiercely
and without cessation, from the surrounding darkness.

As the first men passed through the light Miette instinctively clung
to Silvere, although she knew she was safe, even from observation. She
passed her arm round the young fellow's neck, resting her head against
his shoulder. And with the hood of her pelisse encircling her pale
face she gazed fixedly at that square patch of light as it was rapidly