d words rose softly to the boy's ear, while the
old man seemed to be in profound ignorance of the approaching steps.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

IN THE NIGHT.

Nearer and nearer came the sound of marching, and it was all Punch could
do to keep from rising to his knees and changing his position; but he
mastered himself into a state of content by sending and receiving
signals with his companion, each giving and taking a long, firm
pressure, as at last the invisible body of approaching men reached the
cottage door, and an authoritative voice uttered the sharp command,
"_Halte_!"

Punch's eye was now glued to the hole. He felt that if anybody looked
up he would be sure to see it glittering in the lamplight; but the
fascination to learn what was to be their fate was too strong to be
resisted.

From his coign of vantage he could command the doorway and the legs of a
small detachment of men, two of whom separated themselves and came full
into sight, one being an officer, from the sword he bore, the other a
rough, clumsy-looking peasant. And now for the first time the little
priest appeared to be aware of the presence of strangers, for he slowly
lowered the hand which held the book, raised his head, and seemed to be
looking wonderingly at his visitors.

"Ah!" he said, as if just awakened from his studies; and he uttered some
words, which sounded like a question, to the peasant, who made a rough
obeisance and replied in apologetic tones, as if making an excuse for
his presence there.

And now the officer uttered an impatient ejaculation and took another
step into the room, saying in French, "I am sorry to interrupt your
devotions, father; but this fellow tells me that he saw a couple of our
English prisoners take refuge here."

"I do not speak French, my son," replied the old man calmly.

"Bah! I forgot," ejaculated the officer; and then in a halting way he
stumbled through the same sentence in a very bad translation as he
rendered it into Spanish.

"Ah!" said the old man, rising slowly; and Punch saw him look as if
wonderingly at the rough peasant, who seemed to shrink back,
half-startled, from the priest's stern gaze.

There was a few moments' silence, during which the two fugitives
clutched each other's hands so tightly that Punch's nerves literally
quivered as he listened for the sharp cracking of the boards, which he
seemed to know must betray them to their pursuers.

But no sound came; and, as the perspir