There was no answer, and he repeated his question, threatening to fire. Then an oppressed, panting voice managed to articulate: 'Yes, yes, it's I, father Fouchard.' And immediately afterwards the girl inquired: 'And Charlot?' 'He's in bed and asleep.' 'Oh! all right then--thanks!' Thereupon she no longer hastened, but heaved a deep sigh, in which she exhaled all her weariness and anguish. 'Get in by the window,' resumed Fouchard. 'There's some one inside.' Springing into the room, she stopped short in surprise at sight of the three men. In the flickering candle-light she appeared before them, very dark-complexioned, with thick black hair, and with large, lovely eyes, that sufficed to render her beautiful, lighting up her oval face, which usually wore an expression of submissive tranquillity. But the sudden sight of Honoré had now brought all the blood in her heart to her cheeks, albeit she was not astonished to find him there, for she had been thinking of him whilst running back from Raucourt. He was choking, and felt extremely faint, but he affected great calmness. 'Good evening, Silvine.' 'Good evening, Honoré.' Then, that she might not burst into sobs, she averted her head and smiled at Maurice, whom she had just recognised. Jean's presence inconvenienced her. She felt as though she were stifling, and took off the kerchief she wore about her neck. 'We were anxious about you, Silvine,' resumed Honoré, 'on account of all those Prussians who are coming up.' She suddenly became very pale again, and an expression of agitation swept over her face. Glancing involuntarily in the direction of the room where Charlot was asleep, and waving her hand as if to drive away some frightful vision, she muttered: 'The Prussians, yes--yes, I have seen them.'