Oh! that march in the depths of the defile of Stonne, between the high crests, whilst the guns continued thundering behind the woods on the right! At the head of the 106th rode Colonel de Vineuil, stiffly bestriding his horse, with his pale head erect and his eyelids beating as if to restrain his tears. Captain Beaudoin was biting his moustache in silence, whilst Lieutenant Rochas could not refrain from muttering blasphemous words, insulting everybody, himself included. And even among the soldiers who were not desirous of fighting, among those who were the least brave, there ascended a desire to shout and strike, the anger born of the perpetual defeat, the rage they felt that they should still have to fall back with heavy uncertain steps, whilst those accursed Prussians were slaughtering their comrades yonder! Below Stonne, whence a narrow road winds down through the hills, the highway became broader, and the troops passed beside large fields, intersected by little woods. Since leaving Oches the 106th, which now found itself in the rear-guard, had, at every moment, been in expectation of an attack; for the enemy was now following the column step by step, observing its movements, and doubtless watching for a favourable moment to fall upon its rear. Hostile cavalry, profiting by the undulatory character of the country, was already trying to gain upon the army's flanks. Several squadrons of the Prussian Guard were at last seen debouching from behind a wood, but halted at sight of a regiment of Hussars, which advanced, sweeping the road. And, thanks to this respite, the retreat continued in fairly good order, and the men were approaching Raucourt, when they beheld a sight which increased their anguish and completed their demoralisation. All at once, by a cross road, they caught sight of a precipitate rout coming towards them--wounded officers, disbanded and unarmed soldiers, galloping train-waggons, men and horses all fleeing, distracted, beneath a hurricane of disaster! These were the remnants of a brigade of the First Division which had escorted the convoy sent off in the morning to Mouzon by way of La Besace. A mistake in the road, a frightful mischance, had brought this brigade and a part of the convoy to Varniforêt, near Beaumont, at the moment of the complete rout of the Fifth Corps. Surprised, suddenly subjected to a flank attack, succumbing beneath superior numbers, the men had fled, and panic was bringing them back, bleeding, haggard, and half mad, distracting their comrades with their terror. The stories they told spread fear around them; they seemed to have come on the wings of that thunderous cannonade which since noon had been heard without cessation.