"I am M. Charras, first aide-de-camp to General Pajol, who is commander-in-chief of the Expeditionary Army of the West." "Why did you not say so before, monsieur? That quite alters matters." "Shall I liberate him?" asked the sergeant. "Not until he has given me a carriage and two horses.... Bernadou, go and choose a couple of good horses and a good carriage." "All right!" Bernadou, the sergeant and the proprietor disappeared beneath the large gateway and were lost to sight in the dim distance of the stableyard and the darkness of the stables themselves. "And now," said Charras, "for two volunteers!" "What for?" asked a score of voices. "To go and examine the position of the royal army and to return and give us full particulars." "Where?" "Wherever we ... the staff ... and General Pajol may be; there will be no difficulty in discovering that." "We will go," said two men. Charras looked at them. "I do not know who you are," he said; "who will be responsible for your good faith?" "I," said a gentleman, who was equally unknown to him. "Very good," continued Charras; "but you must know, messieurs, that you are patriots for us, but spies in regard to the royal army." "Well?" "And suppose you are caught...?" "They will shoot us.... And then...?" "Good! if you had begun by telling me that I should not have asked for a surety." The carriage and horses were now brought out. Charras did not leave until he had seen the carriage and the two men safely started upon the road to Rambouillet. The head of the column now came in sight on the Paris road. In a few seconds Charras was beside Pajol. "It is done, General," he said. "What?" "I have found spies." "Where are they?" "Gone." "Really, my dear lad, you are worth your weight in gold!... Now you must go to the village of Cognières; we shall probably halt there." "Where is it?" "Here ... see...!" The general showed the position of the village on the map, four leagues from Rambouillet. "Good! What am I to do at Cognières?" "You must tell the mayor I shall want ten thousand feeds of hay by this evening." "Ten thousand feeds of hay? He will never be able to get so much!" "What do you think we are to do, then? We have two or three thousand fiacres, twelve or fifteen hundred cabriolets, and tilburys and waggons and the devil knows what beside!" "All right! don't despair: if we can't get hay, we will get something else...." "What?" the general interrupted impatiently. "Why, we will take the standing crops of oats!" "Excellent!" exclaimed Pajol; "upon my word, you understand the art of war! What is your name?" "Charras." "I shall not forget it, be sure! Go! I shall feel as confident of my ten thousand feeds as though I had them here already." "Oh! you may rely on them."