He silenced her with a kiss upon the lips, and strength was wanting her longer to put aside the great, the unhoped-for good fortune that had come to her; a life of happiness where she had looked forward to one of loneliness and sorrow!  With an involuntary, irresistible impulse she threw her arms about him, kissing him again and again, straining him to her bosom with all her woman’s strength, as a treasure that was lost and found again, that was hers, hers alone, that thenceforth no one was ever to take from her.  He was hers once more, he whom she had lost, and she would die rather than let anyone deprive her of him.

At that moment confused sounds reached their ears; the sleeping camp was awaking amid a tumult that rose and filled the dark vault of heaven.  Hoarse voices were shouting orders, bugles were sounding, drums beating, and from the naked fields shadowy forms were seen emerging in indistinguishable masses, a surging, billowing sea whose waves were already streaming downward to the road beneath.  The fires on the banks of the stream were dying down; all that could be seen there was masses of men moving confusedly to and fro; it was not even possible to tell if the movement across the river was still in progress.  Never had the shades of night veiled such depths of distress, such abject misery of terror.

Father Fouchard came to the window and shouted that the troops were moving.  Jean and Maurice awoke, stiff and shivering, and got on their feet.  Honore took Silvine’s hands in his and gave them a swift parting clasp.

“It is a promise.  Wait for me.”

She could find no word to say in answer, but all her soul went out to him in one long, last look, as he leaped from the window and hurried away to find his battery.

“Good-by, father!”

“Good-by, my boy!”

And that was all; peasant and soldier parted as they had met, without embracing, like a father and son whose existence was of little import to each other.

Maurice and Jean also left the farmhouse, and descended the steep hill on a run.  When they reached the bottom the 106th was nowhere to be found; the regiments had all moved off.  They made inquiries, running this way and that, and were directed first one way and then another.  At last, when they had near lost their wits in the fearful confusion, they stumbled on their company, under the command of Lieutenant Rochas; as for the regiment and Captain Beaudoin, no one could say where they were.  And Maurice was astounded when he noticed for the first time that that mob of men, guns, and horses was leaving Remilly and taking the Sedan road that lay on the left bank.  Something was wrong again; the passage of the Meuse was abandoned, they were in full retreat to the north!

An officer of chasseurs, who was standing near, spoke up in a loud voice: 

“Nom de Dieu! the time for us to make the movement was the 28th, when we were at Chene!”