As a rule the Franc-tireurs des Écoles went out on the southern or western sides of Paris, but one morning they marched out to St. Denis.
"There has been some pretty hot skirmishing on that side," the colonel said to his officers before starting, "and I have been asked to march you out in that direction, and to take up the outpost duties on a portion of the line there. The troops have been having a pretty hard time of it, and have been pushed backward once or twice, though they have always ended by winning back the ground they had lost. We have a reputation of keeping our eyes open, and the General told me this morning that I might consider it as a compliment we were sent there."
They were marched to a small cluster of houses and relieved two companies of the line who had been on duty there during the night. It was the first time a specific post had been assigned to them, and the men were in high spirits at what they considered an honor. The authorities treated the Franc-tireurs as being valueless for any real fighting: as being useful to a certain extent for harassing the enemies' outposts, but not to be counted upon for any regular work, and so omitted them altogether in the orders assigning the positions to be occupied. The corps therefore considered it a feather in their caps to be assigned a position by the side of the regulars. The fires of the troops were still burning, and the men were soon at work cooking their breakfast, one company being thrown out in the front of the village.
The houses all bore signs of the strife. Some were almost unroofed, others had yawning holes in the walls, the work of shell from the Prussian field-guns, while all were pitted with scars of bullets on the side facing the enemy. Scarce a pane of glass remained intact. The floors had been torn up for firing and the furniture had shared the same fate. A breastwork had been thrown up some fifty yards in front of the village and the houses had been connected by earthen walls, so that if the outwork were taken the place could be defended until reinforcements came up.
A hundred yards to the left there was a battery of six guns, and another on a mound four or five hundred yards to the right. In the daytime their fire covered the village, and there was little chance of the Germans attempting an attack until after nightfall. The enemy occupied in force a village of some size five hundred yards away, and had covered it with strong earthworks. Their outposts faced those of the French with an interval of some two hundred yards between them. The sentries on duty were stationed at distances varying from ten to twenty paces apart, behind walls or banks of earth. The enemies' outposts were similarly protected.
Shots were exchanged at intervals throughout the day between French batteries on the right and left and a redoubt the Germans had thrown up on a rise four or five hundred yards behind their village; the gunners on both sides occasionally directing their fire upon the houses; the outposts were for the most part silent, as it was seldom indeed that even a momentary glimpse was obtained of helmet or kepi, and the orders were that there was to be no useless firing.
During the day the companies took turn at outpost duty, but when night fell the line was strengthened, half the men being under rifles, while the rest lay down with their arms by their side, ready to fall in at a moment's notice. A dropping fire was kept up on both sides, but this was rather for the purpose of showing that they were on the alert than with any idea of harming the invisible foe.
At ten o'clock Cuthbert went out with the half-company to which he belonged, to relieve their comrades who had been for the last three hours in the front line. They had been some little time on duty when Pierre Leroux, who was in charge of the half-company, said to Des Valles, who commanded the whole of the outposts—
"It seems to me that I can hear a deep sound; it comes in pulsations, and I think it is a considerable body of men marching."
The captain listened with bent head for a short time.