It was not easy to get out of the crowd, but they succeeded in doing so, and turned into a hollow road climbing on the left. Then they fell into a perfect labyrinth of lanes and paths, a suburb of market and flower gardens, villas and other country places all jumbled and entangled together; and these paths and lanes wound round between stone walls, or turned sharply, and ended at times in blind alleys. There was here, indeed, a marvellous entrenched camp for an ambuscade kind of warfare, full of nooks which ten men might have defended against a regiment for hours. Shots were already crackling here and there, for the suburb overlooked Sedan, and the Prussian Guard was coming up from the other side of the valley.
When Maurice and Henriette, followed by the others, had turned first to the left and then to the right between two interminable walls, they suddenly came out in front of the large open gateway of the Hermitage, whose grounds rose up in three broad terraces, upon one of which stood the house, a large rectangular building, approached by an avenue of venerable elms. On the verge of a wood, in front, beyond a narrow, deeply banked valley, were some other country residences.
Henriette felt anxious on seeing the gate wide open. 'They are no longer there—they must have gone away,' said she.
Her surmise was correct. Foreseeing the impending disaster, Dubreuil had, on the previous day, resigned himself to taking his wife and children to Bouillon. Still, the house was not empty. On glancing at it from a distance through the trees, it became evident that it was the scene of commotion. The young woman at last ventured to step into the avenue, but recoiled on beholding the corpse of a Prussian soldier.
'Hallo!' exclaimed Rochas, 'has there been a tussle here already?'
They were all eager to know what had happened, and hurried towards the house, where the sight they beheld enlightened them. Plainly enough the doors and windows of the ground floor had been broken open with the butts of guns, and through all the gaping apertures could be seen the pillaged rooms; whilst numerous articles of furniture which had been thrown outside were lying on the gravel of the terrace, below the steps. There was notably a sky-blue drawing-room suite, a sofa and twelve arm-chairs, ranged anyhow, pell-mell, round a large stand, the white marble top of which was split in halves. And several Zouaves, Chasseurs, Linesmen, and men of the Marine Infantry were running about behind the buildings and along the paths, firing at the little wood beyond the dingle in front of them.
'We found some of those filthy Prussians here, sir,' a Zouave explained to Rochas. 'They were sacking the place. But you can see that we settled their hash for them. Only the brutes are now coming back, ten to one, and it won't be an easy job.'
The corpses of three other Prussian soldiers were stretched here and there upon the terrace. And while Henriette was fixedly looking at them—doubtless thinking of her husband who, in a like way, was sleeping the last sleep, lying disfigured amid dust and blood over yonder—a bullet whizzed past her head and struck a tree behind her. Jean darted forward: 'Don't stay there—quick, quick! go and hide yourself in the house!'
Since he had met her again, looking so changed, so distracted by wretchedness, he had been gazing at her with a melting heart, picturing her as she had appeared to him on the previous day with her good housewife's smile. At first he could think of nothing to say to her, not knowing even if she would recognise him. But he would gladly have devoted himself to her could he have given her back any tranquillity and happiness. 'Wait for us in the house,' said he. 'As soon as there is any danger we'll contrive to get you off up there.'
'What use is it?' she replied, with a gesture of indifference. However, her brother was also pushing her towards the house, and she had to climb the steps, and for a moment enter the hall, whence she could survey the avenue from end to end. From that moment she became a spectatress of the fight.