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Doctor Dalichamp, who had been watching the scene with intense interest, cautioned Henriette by signal to make no reply. Maurice would doubtless be more rational after he should have slept; and sleep he did, all that day and all the succeeding night, for more than twenty hours, and never stirred hand or foot. When he awoke next morning, however, he was as inflexible as ever in his determination to go away. The fever had subsided; he was gloomy and restless, in haste to withdraw himself from influences that he feared might weaken his patriotic fervor. His sister, with many tears, made up her mind that he must be allowed to have his way, and Doctor Dalichamp, when he came to make his morning visit, promised to do what he could to facilitate the young man’s escape by turning over to him the papers of a hospital attendant who had died recently at Raucourt. It was arranged that Maurice should don the gray blouse with the red cross of Geneva on its sleeve and pass through Belgium, thence to make his way as best he might to Paris, access to which was as yet uninterrupted.

He did not leave the house that day, keeping himself out of sight and waiting for night to come. He scarcely opened his mouth, although he did make an attempt to enlist the new farm-hand in his enterprise.

“Say, Prosper, don’t you feel as if you would like to go back and have one more look at the Prussians?”

The ex-chasseur d’Afrique, who was eating a cheese sandwich, stopped and held his knife suspended in the air.

“It don’t strike me that it is worth while, from what we were allowed to see of them before. Why should you wish me to go back there, when the only use our generals can find for the cavalry is to send it in after the battle is ended and let it be cut to pieces? No, faith, I’m sick of the business, giving us such dirty work as that to do!” There was silence between them for a moment; then he went on, doubtless to quiet the reproaches of his conscience as a soldier: “And then the work is too heavy here just now; the plowing is just commencing, and then there’ll be the fall sowing to be looked after. We must think of the farm work, mustn’t we? for fighting is well enough in its way, but what would become of us if we should cease to till the ground? You see how it is; I can’t leave my work. Not that I am particularly in love with Father Fouchard, for I doubt very strongly if I shall ever see the color of his money, but the beasties are beginning to take to me, and faith! when I was up there in the Old Field this morning, and gave a look at that d––d Sedan lying yonder in the distance, you can’t tell how good it made me feel to be guiding my oxen and driving the plow through the furrow, all alone in the bright sunshine.”

As soon as it was fairly dark, Doctor Dalichamp came driving up in his old gig. It was his intention to see Maurice to the frontier. Father Fouchard, well pleased to be rid of one of his guests at least, stepped out upon the road to watch and make sure there were none of the enemy’s patrols prowling in the neighborhood, while Silvine put a few stitches in the blouse of the defunct ambulance man, on the sleeve of which the red cross of the corps was prominently displayed. The doctor, before taking his place in the vehicle, examined Jean’s leg anew, but could not as yet promise that he would be able to save it. The patient was still in a profound lethargy, recognizing no one, never opening his mouth to speak, and Maurice was about to leave him without the comfort of a farewell, when, bending over to give him a last embrace, he saw him open his eyes to their full extent; the lips parted, and in a faint voice he said:

“You are going away?” And in reply to their astonished looks: “Yes, I heard what you said, though I could not stir. Take the remainder of the money, then. Put your hand in my trousers’ pocket and take it.”