Men quite unlike their own dear peasant soldiers; men
with muskets in their hands, shakos on their heads, and cartouche boxes
slung behind their backs. The three ladies, before whose sight this
horrid reality of a danger, so long apprehended, suddenly appeared, had
never been so near a scene of absolute battle. Agatha, it is true, had
had to endure through one long and dreadful night the presence of
Santerre and his men in the chateau of Durbelliere; but then she had no
active part to play; she had only to sit in quiet, and wait for her
doom: now they all felt that something should be done, some means should
be tried to escape from the danger which was so close to them.
The women immediately withdrew from the window, and wheeled away the
couch on which the Marquis was lying, but nothing would induce de
Lescure to allow himself to be stirred; in fixed silence, with his head
resting low on the window sill, he gazed on the crowded soldiers, as
they poured thick and numerous into the town.
"Oh, where is Henri now?" said Madame de Lescure.
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