ow, scarcely more than a boy, but with an expression of energy
and determination on his face. His men had already taken full possession
of the building, some of them being engaged in loopholing the shutters
of the ground-floor windows that commanded the street, while others, in
the courtyard that overlooked the meadows in the rear, were breaching
the wall for musketry. It was in this courtyard that Delaherche and
Weiss found the young officer, straining his eyes to discover what was
hidden behind the impenetrable mist.

"Confound this fog!" he murmured. "We can't fight when we don't know
where the enemy is." Presently he asked, with no apparent change of
voice or manner: "What day of the week is this?"

"Thursday," Weiss replied.

"Thursday, that's so. Hanged if I don't think the world might come to an
end and we not know it!"

But just at that moment the uninterrupted roar of the artillery was
diversified by a brisk rattle of musketry proceeding from the edge of
the meadows, at a distance of two or three hundred yards. And at the
same time there was a transformation, as rapid and startling, almost, as
the stage effect in a fairy spectacle: the sun rose, the exhalations of
the Meuse were whirled away like bits of finest, filmiest gauze, and the
blue sky was revealed, in serene limpidity, undimmed by a single cloud.
It was the exquisite morning of a faultless summer day.

"Ah!" exclaimed Delaherche, "they are crossing the railway bridge. See,
they are making their way along the track. How stupid of us not to have
blown up the bridge!"

The officer's face bore an expression of dumb rage. The mines had been
prepared and charged, he averred, but they had fought four hours the day
before to regain possession of the bridge and then had forgot to touch
them off.

"It is just our luck," he curtly said.

Weiss was silent, watching the course of events and endeavoring to form
some idea of the true state of affairs. The position of the French in
Bazeilles was a very strong one. The village commanded the meadows, and
was bisected by the Douzy road, which, turning sharp to the left, passed
under the walls of the Chateau, while another road, the one that led to
the railway bridge, bent around to the right and forked at the Place
de l'Eglise. There was no cover for any force advancing by these two
approaches; the Germans would be obliged to traverse the meadows and the
wide, bare level that lay between the outskirts of the vi