While I was making the tea he walked about the house, looked at the
pictures, examined the books. Just as the table was ready there was a
tremendous explosion. He went to the door, looked off, and remarked, as
if it were the most natural thing in the world, "Another division
across. That should be the last."
"Are all the bridges down?" I asked.
"All, I think, except the big railroad bridge behind you--Chalifert.
That will not go until the last minute."
I wanted to ask, "When will it be the 'last minute'--and what does the
'last minute' mean?"--but where was the good? So we went into the
dining-room. As he threw his hat on to a chair and sat down with a
sigh, he said, "You see before you a very humiliated man. About half an
hour ago eight of the Uhlans we are looking for rode right into the
street below you, in Voisins. We saw them, but they got away. It is
absolutely our own stupidity."
"Well," I explained to him, "I fancy I can tell you where they are
hiding. I told Captain Simpson so last night." And I explained to him
that horses had been heard in the woods at the foot of the hill since
Tuesday; that there was a cart road, rough and winding, running in
toward Conde for over two miles; that it was absolutely screened by
trees, had plenty of water, and not a house in it,--a shelter for a
regiment of cavalry.
Pages:
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125