He had been scouring Sedan and the environs since the morning, and had returned home only a short time previously in despair at the inaction of the troops during this precious 31st of August, which had been entirely lost--consumed in inexplicable waiting. There was only one possible excuse for it all--the extreme weariness of the men, their absolute need of rest--but, granting that, it was difficult to understand why the retreat had not been resumed as soon as the troops had secured the necessary modicum of sleep. 'For my part,' resumed Weiss, 'I don't pretend to be an authority on these matters, but I instinctively feel, yes, I feel that the army is very badly situated here at Sedan. The Twelfth Corps is posted at Bazeilles, where there was a little fighting this morning, the First is ranged along the Givonne from La Moncelle to the wood of La Garenne, whilst the Seventh is camping on the plateau of Floing, and the Fifth, half destroyed, is heaped up under the very ramparts, on the side of the Château--and it frightens me to know that they are all ranged like that round the town, waiting for the Prussians. For my part I should have been off, and at once, in the direction of Mézières. I know the country; there's no other possible line of retreat; you can't go farther north or you'll be thrown into Belgium--besides, come here--I want to show you something.' Taking Jean by the hand he led him to the window. 'Look over there, on the hill-tops,' he added. Dominating the ramparts and the neighbouring buildings, the window overlooked the valley of the Meuse on the southern side of Sedan. There was the river winding through the expanse of meadow land; Remilly rose up on the left, Pont-Maugis and Wadelincourt were just in front, and Frénois was on the right. There, too, were the hills, displaying their green slopes, first the Liry hill, then the Marfée, the Croix-Piau, all crowned with large woods. In the declining daylight the vast horizon was invested with infinite softness, a crystalline limpidity. 'Can't you see those black lines on the march along the hill-tops, over there, those black ants swarming past?' Jean opened his eyes wide, whilst Maurice, kneeling on his bed, craned his neck forward. 'Ah! yes,' they both exclaimed, at the same moment, 'There's one line, there's another, another--they are everywhere!'