of
the meadows in the chill, wan light of dawn, while against the somber
background of her great forests Sedan was profiled in livid outlines,
indistinct as the creation of some hideous nightmare. When they had left
Wadelincourt behind them and were come at last to the Torcy gate,
the governor long refused them admission; he only yielded, after a
protracted conference, upon their threat to storm the place. It was five
o'clock when at last the 7th corps, weary, cold, and hungry, entered
Sedan.

VIII.

In the crush on the Place de Torcy that ensued upon the entrance of the
troops into the city Jean became separated from Maurice, and all his
attempts to find him again among the surging crowd were fruitless. It
was a piece of extreme ill-luck, for he had accepted the young man's
invitation to go with him to his sister's, where there would be rest and
food for them, and even the luxury of a comfortable bed. The confusion
was so great--the regiments disintegrated, no discipline, and no
officers to enforce it--that the men were free to do pretty much as they
pleased. There was plenty of time to look about them and hunt up their
commands; they would have a few hours of sleep first.

Jean in his bewilderment found himself on the viaduct of Torcy,
overlooking the broad meadows which, by the governor's orders, had been
flooded with water from the river. Then, passing through another archway
and crossing the Pont de Meuse, he entered the old, rampart-girt city,
where, among the tall and crowded houses and the damp, narrow streets,
it seemed to him that night was descending again, notwithstanding
the increasing daylight. He could not so much as remember the name
of Maurice's brother-in-law; he only knew that his sister's name was
Henriette. The outlook was not encouraging; all that kept him awake was
the automatic movement of walking; he felt that he should drop were
he to stop. The indistinct ringing in his ears was the same that is
experienced by one drowning; he was only conscious of the ceaseless
onpouring of the stream of men and animals that carried him along with
it on its current. He had partaken of food at Remilly, sleep was now his
great necessity; and the same was true of the shadowy bands that he saw
flitting past him in those strange, fantastic streets. At every moment
a man would sink upon the sidewalk or tumble into a doorway, and there
would remain, as if struck by death.

Raising his eyes, Jean read upon