“I cannot give you a convoy, Mademoiselle,” he said; “I. scarcely know if I have the right to let you pass. We may be attacked at any moment; for aught I can tell, you may be in the interests of the insurgents—”
“We are cut off, Lieutenant,” cried a sergeant, running up at the moment. “They have thrown up a barrier behind us, and it is armed already.”
“Lay down your arms, then,” said Kate, “and do not sacrifice your brave fellows in a hopeless straggle.”
“Listen not to her, young man, but give heed to your honor and your loyalty,” cried Lady Dorothea. “Is it against such an enemy as this French soldiers fear to advance?”
“Forward!” cried the officer, waving his sword above his head. “Let us carry the barricade!” And a wild yell of defiance from the windows repeated the speech in derision.
“You are going to certain death!” cried Kate, throwing herself before him. “Let me make terms for you, and they shall not bring dishonor on you.”
“Here comes the regiment!” called out the sergeant. “They have forced the barricade.” And the quick tramp of a column, as they came at a run, now shook the street.
“Remember your cause and your King, sir,” cried Lady Dorothea to the officer.
“Bethink you of your country,—of France,—and of Liberty!” said Kate, as she grasped his arm.
“Stand back!—back to the houses!” said he, waving his sword. “Voltigeurs, to the front!”