of the marshal, who as yet did not know what troops he had before him; and the Seventh and Fifth Corps were about to be harassed without respite, threatened incessantly with a crowning disaster. Maurice gazed at Falaise whilst it continued burning on the horizon. Just then, however, some solace was afforded by the arrival of the convoy, thought to be lost, but which was seen debouching from the road to Le Chêne. Thereupon, whilst the First Division remained at Quatre-Champs to escort and protect the interminable baggage-train, the Second at once set out for Boult-aux-Bois through the forest, whilst the Third took up position on the heights of Belleville on the left, with the view of insuring communications. Just as the rain was increasing in violence, the 106th at last quitted the plateau, resuming once more that criminal march towards the Meuse--towards the Unknown; and at that same moment Maurice, in his mind's eye, again saw the Emperor's shadow flitting mournfully to and fro on old Madame Desroches' little curtains. Ah! the army of the forlorn hope, the army sent to perdition, despatched to certain annihilation for the purpose of saving a dynasty. March, march, without glancing behind, under the rain and through the mud--march to extermination! CHAPTER VI AN ARMY'S CALVARY--CHASED BY THE FOE 'Thunder!' exclaimed Chouteau, when he awoke on the following morning in the tent, feeling weary and icy cold; 'I'd willingly accept some hot broth with plenty of meat round it.' When they had encamped on the previous evening at Boult-aux-Bois, only some scanty rations of potatoes had been distributed, the commissariat becoming more and more bewildered and disorganised by the incessant marching and counter-marching, and failing to meet the troops at any of the appointed places. In the confusion prevailing on the roads, no one knew where to find those migratory droves of cattle intended for the army, and famine seemed near at hand. 'Yes, dash it all!' rejoined Loubet, with a sneer of desperation, as he stretched himself. 'But it's all over now. No more roast goose!' The squad was in a bad humour. Things were not lively when there was nothing to eat; and besides there was that incessant rain, and that mud in which they had been sleeping. Seeing that Pache was crossing himself, after saying his morning prayer with closed lips, that infidel Chouteau furiously resumed: 'Why don't you pray for a couple of sausages and a pint of wine for each of us?' 'Ah! if we only had some bread even,' sighed Lapoulle, who, with his excessive appetite, suffered more hunger than the others.