'Oh! how hungry I am, so hungry I could eat the very earth.' Such was the cry which Jean, so inured to hardship and usually so silent, was no longer able to restrain; a cry which he raised despite himself, in the delirium caused by privation; for six-and-thirty hours had now elapsed since he had partaken of any food. Then Maurice, who realised that their regiment would not cross the Meuse at least for another two or three hours, made up his mind to speak: 'Listen,' said he, 'I have an uncle living near here; uncle Fouchard, whom I told you about. His place is over there, some five or six hundred yards away. I hesitated about going, but since you are so hungry we had better try him. He will give us some bread at all events.' Thereupon he led his unresisting comrade away. Old Fouchard's little farm was situated on the outskirts of the defile of Haraucourt, near the plateau where the reserve artillery was encamped. There was a low house, with outbuildings of considerable extent, a barn, a cowshed, and a stable: and, in a kind of coach-house on the other side of the road, the old peasant had installed his butcher's business. It was there that he slaughtered the animals which he subsequently hawked through the surrounding villages in his cart. As the two men drew near to the place Maurice was surprised not to see any light in the house. 'The old miser!' he muttered; 'he must have barricaded himself indoors--he won't open.' On reaching the road, the young fellow stopped short at sight of a dozen marauding soldiers--hungry rascals, no doubt, on the prowl for something to fill their maws with--who were moving hither and thither in front of the farmhouse. They had begun by calling; then they had knocked; and now, as the house remained quite black and silent, they were battering the door with the butt-ends of their guns with the object of breaking the lock open. Gruff voices could be heard roaring: 'Thunder! Hit harder! Break the cursed door down, since there's no one inside.' Suddenly, however, the shutter of a garret window was flung back, and a tall old man, wearing a blouse and with his head bare, appeared carrying a tallow candle in one hand and a gun in the other. He had coarse white hair and a square, broadly wrinkled face, with a prominent nose, large light-coloured eyes and a chin expressive of obstinate self-will. 'Are you fellows thieves, that you are smashing everything like that?' he shouted in a harsh voice. 'What on earth do you want?' The soldiers drew back, somewhat abashed: 'We are dying of hunger. We want something to eat,' they answered. 'I've got nothing, not even a crust! Do you fellows think we can feed hundreds of thousands of men? Other troops passed by here this morning--General Ducrot's men--and they took everything I had.' One by one the soldiers were again drawing nearer: 'All the same, just open your door. We'll have a rest. You'll be able to find us a morsel, sure enough.'