The young fellow could no longer endure it all; he suffered, however, far more from the anger he was compelled to restrain than from physical exhaustion. Everything exasperated him, even those jarring calls of the Prussian trumpets at which, in his enervated condition, he could have howled like a dog. He felt that he should be unable to accomplish this cruel journey without getting his skull cracked. Even now in passing through the smallest hamlets he experienced intense suffering at sight of the women who looked at him with so deep an expression of pity. What would it be then when they got to Germany, and the townsfolk scrambled to see them, and greeted them, as they greeted the other prisoners, with insulting laughter? He pictured the cattle-trucks in which they would be heaped together, the nauseating abominations and tortures of the road, the dreary life in the fortresses under the snow-laden sky of winter. No, no! rather death at once, rather the risk of leaving his skin at the turn of a road on the soil of France than rot over yonder, in some black casemate, possibly for long months.

'Listen,' said he, in a low voice to Jean, who was walking beside him, 'we'll wait till we pass a wood, and then we'll jump aside and slip between the trees. The Belgian frontier isn't far, we shall surely find some one or other to guide us.'

Jean shuddered; despite the feeling of revolt which was making him also dream of escape, he yet retained his calmer, more practical mind. 'You are mad,' he said. 'They would fire on us, and we should both be shot.'

But there was a chance that they might not be hit, retorted Maurice; besides, even supposing they were shot down, well, so much the better.

'But supposing we escaped,' continued Jean, 'what would become of us in our uniforms? You can see very well that the country is covered with Prussian pickets. It would, at any rate, be necessary to have some other clothes. Yes, it's too dangerous, youngster. I can't let you do anything so foolish.'

It became necessary that he should restrain the young fellow, and whilst he strove to calm him with chiding but affectionate words, he caught hold of his arm and pressed it closely to his side, so that they appeared to be mutually supporting one another. They had taken but a few steps, however, when some words exchanged in an undertone behind them made them turn their heads. The whisperers were Chouteau and Loubet, who had started from the peninsula that morning at the same time as themselves, and whom they had hitherto avoided. The two rascals were now at their heels, however, and Chouteau must have heard what Maurice had said of trying to escape through a plantation, for he adopted the idea on his own account. 'I say,' he muttered, craning his head forward so that they felt his breath on their necks, 'we'll join you. That idea of sloping's a capital one. Some of the comrades have already gone off, and we certainly can't let ourselves be dragged like so many dogs to the country where these pigs live. Is it agreed, eh? Shall we four fellows take a breath of fresh air?'

Maurice was again growing feverish, and Jean turned round to say to the tempter: 'Well, if you're in a hurry, you can go on in front. What do you hope for?'

Under the corporal's searching gaze, Chouteau became disconcerted, and imprudently let the cat out of the bag. 'Well! it would be easier if there were four of us,' said he. 'One or two would always manage to get off.'

Thereupon, with an energetic shake of the head, Jean altogether declined taking part in the venture. He mistrusted Monsieur Chouteau, said he, and feared some act of treachery. However, he had to exert all his authority over Maurice to prevent the young fellow from yielding to his desire, for just then an opportunity presented itself; they were passing a very leafy little wood, which was merely separated from the road by a field thickly dotted with bushes. To gallop across that field and disappear in the thickets, would not that mean safety and freedom?

Loubet had so far said nothing. Firmly resolved, however, not to go and moulder in Germany, he was sniffing the air with his restless nose, and watching for the favourable moment with those sharp eyes of his, like the crafty fellow he was. Doubtless he relied on his legs and his artfulness, which had so far always helped him out of his scrapes. And all at once he made up his mind. 'Ah! dash it! I've had enough. I'm off.'