"Victor, show the gentleman the way," said Mme. Morestal to the servant. "Here is the key."
"In the loft," continued the captain, "you will find two hundred bags of plaster.... Use them to block up the parapet of this terrace.... Quick as you can!... Every minute is worth an hour."
He himself went to the parapet, measured it and counted the balusters. In the distance, within rifle-range, the Col du Diable formed a deep gash between the great rocks. Saboureux's Farm guarded the entrance. As yet, not a single figure of the enemy showed.
"Ah, twenty minutes!... If I only had twenty minutes!" repeated the officer. "The position of the Old Mill is hard to beat. One would stand a chance or two ..."
An adjutant and a couple more soldiers appeared at the top of the staircase.
"Well?" asked Captain Daspry. "Are they coming?"
"The vanguard was turning the corner of the factory, at five hundred yards from the pass," replied the adjutant.
"Are there any more of our men behind you?"
"Yes, captain, there's Duvauchel. He's wounded. They've laid him on a stretcher...."
"Duvauchel!" cried the officer, anxiously. "It's not a serious wound, I hope?"