“Ah, well, as yet we do not know. Everybody says it, doubtless everybody thinks it, but I should prefer to hear from the wounded man.”
“From the dead!” solemnly remarked Dr. Morris.
The two men made a military salute, and the people superstitiously crossed themselves.
Catherine, at the dead man’s side, was weeping bitterly, and praying with a fervor of which she had felt incapable eight days before. It was a sad scene, but Banastre perceived what it was his duty to do.
“Show me the home of Firmin Valeau,” he sternly ordered.
Little Sidonie came forward and pointed out the way.
“You see the little red roof there—quite new?” she asked.
“Is that it?”
“Yes, Monsieur.”
“Thanks, little one.—Come, Plagnolles, we must go.”