In fact, in the present situation of these young men, every circumstance merited attention. So the meal was interrupted. Their jaws ceased to work to give the eyes and ears full scope. It soon became evident that the services of their eyes were alone needed. Each gendarme regained his room without light. The numerous barrack windows remained dark, so that the watchers were able to concentrate their attention on a single point. Among those dark windows, two were lighted. They stood relatively back from the rest of the building, and directly opposite to the one where the young men were supping. These windows were on the first floor, but in the position the watchers occupied at the top of bales of hay, Morgan and Valensolle were not only on a level, but could even look down into them. These windows were those of the room of the captain of gendarmes. Whether from indifference on the worthy captain’s part, or by reason of State penury, the windows were bare of curtains, so that, thanks to the two candles which the captain had lighted in his guest’s honor, Morgan and Valensolle could see everything that took place in this room. Suddenly Morgan grasped Valensolle’s arm, and pressed it with all his might. “Hey” said Valensolle “what now?” Roland had just thrown his three-cornered hat on a chair and Morgan had recognized him. “Roland de Montrevel!” he exclaimed, “Roland in a sergeant’s uniform! This time we are on his track while he is still seeking ours. It behooves us not to lose it.” “What are you going to do?” asked Valensolle, observing that his friend was preparing to leave him. “Inform our companions. You stay here and do not lose sight of him. He has taken off his sword, and laid his pistols aside, therefore it is probable he intends to spend the night in the captain’s room. To-morrow I defy him to take any road, no matter which, without one of us at his heels.” And Morgan sliding down the declivity of the hay, disappeared from sight, leaving his companion crouched like a sphinx, with his eyes fixed on Roland de Montrevel. A quarter of an hour later Morgan returned. By this time the officer’s windows were dark like all the others of the barracks. “Well?” asked Morgan. “Well,” replied Valensolle, “it ended most prosaically. They undressed themselves, blew out the candles, and lay down, the captain on his bed, Roland on a mattress. They are probably trying to outsnore each other at the present moment.” “In that case,” said Morgan, “good-night to them, and to us also.” Ten minutes later the wish was granted, and the two young men were sleeping, as if they did not have danger for a bed-fellow. CHAPTER XLI. THE HÔTEL DE LA POSTE That same morning, about six o’clock, at the cold gray breaking of a February day, a rider, spurring a post-hack and preceded by a postilion who was to lead back the horse, left Bourg by the road to Mâcon or Saint-Julien.