At the gate they had to pause, a gendarme coming to the coach door. He said something to Denham, which made Colonel Baron ask sharply—
"Eh, what's that?"
"We are to go first to the citadel. Not necessary for Mrs. Baron and Roy. You and I might walk it, sir, and send them on."
"No, no," Mrs. Baron interposed; "I cannot go on alone. We will keep together."
"A pity," murmured Ivor; and Colonel Baron looked doubtfully from him to his wife.
"I am not going to do it," she repeated, with her manner of graceful determination; and then, earnestly, "Do not ask it of me—pray do not!" No more could be said, and the man was ordered to drive on.
Verdun at that date lay in the then French province of Lorraine, the then French department of the Meuse, upon which river it was built. Distant from Paris somewhere about one hundred and fifty miles, it was also within about fifty miles, in different directions, of two towns which have since become vividly historic, Sédan and Metz. The river thereabouts follows a tortuous course, and the lower part of Verdun stood mainly on little islands in the Meuse, while the upper part led to the French citadel, which crowned a rocky summit.
The valley, containing the town, ran north-west and south-east, being surrounded by hills.
On reaching the citadel Mrs. Baron and Roy were desired by the Colonel to remain in the coach, while he and Denham disappeared within, there to be carefully examined and closely questioned, and having again to give their parole. After which they came out, the Colonel saying shortly—
"That business is done! Tell them where to go, Den. They seem determined to know us again."