As they neared the top, the sound of machine guns and rifle fire, which had been muffled, seemed to explode all around them.
M. Angell brought the steaming car to a stop. He surveyed the landscape on all sides.
After a moment he said, “If you will be kind enough to alight, I shall lead you to safety—but on your own feet. We must abandon this vehicle to the mercies of Heaven.”
Mme. Gagnon said to the doctor, “It is cause for rejoicing, doctor, that your cure was successful and I can walk. Stop frowning, Pierre. Each step I take leads toward home.”
“At the moment,” snapped M. Angell, “our steps lead down that slope on the left, toward those cottages. That path,” and he pointed to the château, “leads to my house, but firing of considerable intensity is going on there.”
A tremendous salvo of shells interrupted. Dense white smoke rolled over the hill and drifted through the trees lining the driveway to the château.
“It sounds as though we were moving directly into the middle of a battle,” Mme. Gagnon said.
M. Angell raised his head. “There is a skirmish there on the other side of the hill, which I do not understand,” he said.
Pierre Gagnon stared around.