When they reached the ford they found the two chasseurs who had been sent in advance, awaiting them, pistol in hand. They were evidently uneasy. The ford, instead of being a clear, shallow stream rippling over pebbles, was a dark and stagnant body of water, washing softly against a rocky bank. They looked on all sides for the guide whom Courtin had agreed should meet them at this point. The general gave a loud call. A voice answered on the opposite shore,-- "Qui vive?" "Souday!" replied the general. "Then you are the ones I am waiting for," said the guide. "Is this the ford of the Boulogne?" asked the general. "Yes." "Why is the water so high?" "There's a flood since the last rains." "Is the crossing possible in spite of it?" "Damn it! I don't know. I have never seen the river as high as this. I think it would be more prudent--" The guide's voice suddenly stopped, or rather seemed to turn into a moan. Then the sound of a struggle was plainly heard, as if the feet of several men were tussling on the pebbles. "A thousand thunders!" cried the general, "our guide is being murdered!" A cry of agony replied to the general's exclamation and confirmed it. "A grenadier up behind every trooper!" cried the general. "The captain behind me! The two lieutenants stay here with the rest of the troop, the prisoner, and his three guards. Come on, and quickly too!" In a moment the seventeen chasseurs had each a grenadier behind him. Eighty grenadiers, the two lieutenants, the prisoner and his three guards, including Tinguy, remained on the right bank of the river. The order was executed with the rapidity of thought, and the general, followed by his chasseurs and the seventeen grenadiers behind them, plunged into the bed of the river. Twenty feet from the shore the horses lost foothold, but they swam for a few moments and reached, without accident, the opposite bank. They had hardly landed when the grenadiers dismounted. "Can you see anything?" said the general, trying himself to pierce the darkness that surrounded the little troop. "No, general," said the men with one voice. "Yet it was certainly from here," said the general, as if speaking to himself, "that the man answered me. Look behind the bushes, but without scattering; you may find his body." The soldiers obeyed, searching round a radius of some hundred and fifty feet. But they returned in about fifteen minutes and reported that they could see nothing, and had found no traces of the body. "You saw absolutely nothing?" asked the general. One grenadier alone came forward, holding in his hand a cotton cap. "I found this," he said. "Where?" "Hooked to a bush." "That's our guide's cap," said the general. "How do you know?" asked the captain. "Because the men who attacked him would have worn hats," replied the general, without the slightest hesitation.