plain enough. But the escort seems to me to be larger than you told me, Guéchamp."
"It seems so to me, too."
"They are about a quarter of a league away."
"Commander, the escape ladder will be here in a quarter of an hour."
"We can begin the attack."
It was really a wagon which was coming, but it was not the one they thought.
Gauvain, turning around, saw behind him Sergeant Radoub, erect, his eyes downcast, in attitude of military salute.
"What is it, Sergeant Radoub?"
"Citizen commander, we, the men of the battalion of Bonnet-Rouge, have a favor to ask of you."
"What is it?"
"To have us killed."
"Ah!" said Gauvain.
"Will you do us this kindness?"
"But—that depends on circumstances," said Gauvain.
"You see, commander, since the affair at Dol you have been careful of us. There are still twelve of us."
"Well?"
"This humiliates us."
"You are the reserve."
"We would rather be the advance-guard."
"But I need you to decide the final success of an action. I hold you in reserve."
"Too much so."
"No matter. You are in the column, you march with it."
"In the rear. Paris has the right to march ahead."
"I will think about it, Sergeant Radoub."
"Think about it to-day, commander. There is going to be an engagement. There will be a rough tripping-up, on one side or the other. It will be lively. La Tourgue will burn the fingers of those who touch it. We ask the privilege of being in the fight."
The sergeant stopped short, twisted his moustache, and added in a different tone,—
"And then you see, commander, our babies are in that tower. Our children are there, the children of the battalion, our three children. The terrible face of Gribouille-
