However, after going another hundred yards or so, Pache evidently fancied himself alone, for he began walking rapidly without casting a glance behind. They were thus easily able to follow him to the neighbouring quarries, and came up behind him just as he was moving two large stones to take a half loaf of bread from under them. This was all that remained of his hoard, just enough to make one more meal.

'You dirty black-beetle!' shouted Lapoulle. 'So that's why you hide yourself, is it? You'll just give me that. It's my share.'

Give his bread, indeed! Why should he give it? However puny he might be, his anger made him draw himself erect, pressing the bread to his heart with all the strength he possessed. He, also, was hungry. 'Mind your own business!' he answered, 'it's mine!'

Then, at sight of Lapoulle's raised fist, he darted away, galloping down from the quarries towards the bare fields in the direction of Donchery. The three others pursued him, panting, as fast as their legs could carry them. He gained ground, however, being lighter than they were, so frightened too, and so bent on not losing his bread, that it seemed as though the wind were carrying him away. He had already gone more than a thousand yards, and was nearing the little wood on the river bank, when he overtook Jean and Maurice, who were returning to their night quarters there. As he rushed by he raised a cry of distress, whilst they, astounded at sight of this man-hunt so wildly galloping past them, stopped short at the edge of a field, where they remained watching. And thus it was that they saw everything.

Stumbling against a stone, Pache unhappily fell to the ground. The three others were already coming up, swearing and howling, maddened by their run, like wolves overtaking their prey.

'Give it me, thunder!' shouted Lapoulle, 'or I'll settle your hash!' And he was again raising his fist when Chouteau, after opening the little knife that had served to slaughter the horse, passed it to him, exclaiming: 'Here! take the knife.'

Meantime, however, Jean had darted forward to prevent an affray. He also was losing his head, and talked of sending them all to the guard-room; whereat Loubet, with an evil grin, told him he must be a Prussian, for there were no officers left, so to say, the Prussians alone now exercising authority.

'D——!' repeated Lapoulle, 'will you give me that bread?'

Despite the terror that blanched his face, Pache hugged the bread yet more closely to his chest, with the obstinacy of a famished peasant, who will never part with anything belonging to him.

'No!'