'Don't be in a hurry, the time may come,' replied Jean, quietly. However, the gallop of horses on their left made them turn their heads, and they recognised General Douay, who, followed by his staff, had ridden up to ascertain how his troops were behaving under the terrible fire from the Hattoy hill. He seemed satisfied, and was giving a few orders, when General Bourgain-Desfeuilles, in his turn, debouched from a hollow road. 'Carpet-general' though he was, he trotted along with careless indifference amidst all the projectiles, obstinately clinging to his Algerian practices, and having failed to profit by any of the lessons of the war. He was gesticulating after the fashion of Rochas, and shouting: 'I'm waiting for them. We'll see how it will be when we get to close quarters by-and-by.' Then, catching sight of General Douay, he rode up to him: 'Is it true, general, that the marshal's wounded?' 'Yes, it is, unfortunately. I received a line from Ducrot just now, telling me that the marshal had selected him to take command of the army.' 'Ah! so it's Ducrot! And what are the orders?' The commander of the Seventh Corps made a gesture of despair. He had realised, already on the previous day, that the army was lost if it remained at Sedan, and he had urged again and again, but vainly, that the positions of St. Menges and Illy ought to be occupied in view of insuring a means of retreating upon Mézières. 'Ducrot reverts to our plan,' he said, in answer to Bourgain-Desfeuilles. 'The entire army is to concentrate on the plateau of Illy.' And then he repeated his gesture as though to say that it was too late! The roar of the cannon drowned many of his words; still the sense of them reached Maurice's ears distinctly enough, and he was quite scared. What! Marshal MacMahon was wounded, General Ducrot commanded in his stead, the entire army was to retreat to the north of Sedan, and the poor devils of soldiers who were getting themselves killed were in utter ignorance of all these important matters! And they were playing this fearful game at the mercy of a chance accident, dependent on the fancies of a fresh leader! He divined the confusion, the final disarray into which the army was falling, without a commander, without a plan, dragged first one way and then another, whilst the Germans never deviated, but went straight towards their goal with the precision of machinery. General Bourgain-Desfeuilles was already riding away when he was imperatively recalled by his superior, who had just received another message, brought to him by a Hussar, covered with dust.