The next morning we unexpectedly fell on an outpost of uhlans four leagues away.  Surprised by our sudden attack, they were not able to mount their horses, nor even to defend themselves; and in a few moments we had five prisoner, corresponding to our own number.  The captain questioned them, and from their answers we felt certain that they were the same whom we had encountered the previous day.  Then a very curious operation took place.  One of us was told off to ascertain their sex, and nothing can describe our joy when we discovered what we were seeking among them, the female executioner who had tortured our friend.

The four others were shot on the spot, with their backs to us and close to the muzzles of our rifles; and then we turned our attention to the woman.  What were we going to do with her?  I must acknowledge that we were all of us in favor of shooting her.  Hatred, and the wish to avenge Piedelot, had extinguished all pity in us, and we had forgotten that we were going to shoot a woman, but a woman reminded us of it, the captain’s wife; at her entreaties, therefore, we determined to keep her a prisoner.

The captain’s poor wife was to be severely punished for this act of clemency.

The next day we heard that the armistice had been extended to the eastern part of France, and we had to put an end to our little campaign.  Two of us, who belonged to the neighborhood, returned home, so there were only four of us, all told:  the captain, his wife, and two men.  We belonged to Besancon, which was still being besieged in spite of the armistice.

“Let us stop here,” said the captain.  “I cannot believe that the war is going to end like this.  The devil take it!  Surely there are men still left in France; and now is the time to prove what they are made of.  The spring is coming on, and the armistice is only a trap laid for the Prussians.  During the time that it lasts, a new army will be raised, and some fine morning we shall fall upon them again.  We shall be ready, and we have a hostage—­let us remain here.”

We fixed our quarters there.  It was terribly cold, and we did not go out much, and somebody had always to keep the female prisoner in sight.

She was sullen, and never said anything, or else spoke of her husband, whom the captain had killed.  She looked at him continually with fierce eyes, and we felt that she was tortured by a wild longing for revenge.  That seemed to us to be the most suitable punishment for the terrible torments that she had made Piedelot suffer, for impotent vengeance is such intense pain!

Alas! we who knew how to avenge our comrade ought to have thought that this woman would know how to avenge her husband, and have been on our guard.  It is true that one of us kept watch every night, and that at first we tied her by a long rope to the great oak bench that was fastened to the wall.  But, by and by, as she had never tried to escape, in spite of her hatred for us, we relaxed our extreme prudence, and allowed her to sleep somewhere else except on the bench, and without being tied.  What had we to fear?  She was at the end of the room, a man was on guard at the door, and between her and the sentinel the captain’s wife and two other men used to lie.  She was alone and unarmed against four, so there could be no danger.