"Yes, we have." "How is that?" "That's what made me say, 'Ah! at last!' As the wagon had not arrived, I took my spy-glass and have been watching the road from Parigné to the Tourgue, and now I am content; for the wagon and the escort are yonder descending the hill. You can see them." Gauvain took the spy-glass and looked. "Yes, there it is. It is hardly light enough to see it all distinctly, but I can distinguish the escort; it is certainly that. Only it seems to me larger than you said, Guéchamp?" "Yes, it does." "They are about a quarter of a league distant." "The escape-ladder will be here in a quarter of an hour, commander." "Then we can attack." It was indeed a wagon approaching, but not the one they supposed it to be. As he turned, Gauvain saw behind him Sergeant Radoub standing with downcast eyes, in the attitude of military salute. "What is it, Sergeant Radoub?" "Citizen commander, we, the men of the battalion of the Bonnet-Rouge, have a favor to ask of you." "What is it?" "To be killed." "Ah!" exclaimed Gauvain. "Will you grant us this favor?" "Well, that depends," said Gauvain. "It is just this, commander. Since the affair at Dol, you have been too careful of us. There are twelve of us still." "Well?" "It humiliates us." "You are the reserved force." "We would rather be in the vanguard." "I need you to insure success at the close of the engagement. That is why I keep you back." "There is too much of this keeping back." "It is all the same. You are in the column. You march." "In the rear. Paris has a right to march at the head." "I will consider the matter, Sergeant Radoub." "Consider it to-day, commander. The occasion is at hand. Hard knocks will be given on both sides; it will be lively work. He who lays a finger on the Tourgue will get himself burned; we request the favor of being in the thick of it." The sergeant paused, twisted his moustache, and continued in a changed voice:--