At each of the farm-houses, as I went, I paused for a few minutes, and, explaining to the farmers the necessity of keeping an acute watch upon the enemy, I made them promise that in case they saw, during the night, any movement in advance, they would each, one after another, set fire to a pile of brushwood in their court-yard; and, for the purpose of rendering our intelligence more secure, two or three of those in the immediate vicinity of the river agreed to take it by turns each night to sit up and mark the motions of the adverse force. On my arrival at the village, also, I rode directly to the mill, which luckily proved to be built of stone, with a little sort of platform near the top, by means of which the miller reached and regulated the sails. Much to his surprise, and somewhat to his consternation, I caused this little parapet to be loaded with brushwood, and then, explaining to him that it might be necessary to set fire to the pile, I told him to do his best to prevent the building itself from catching fire, in the event of our being compelled to use his mill as a stand for our beacon. Leaving half a dozen men to give him assistance in removing the sails and everything combustible from the neighbourhood of the platform, I returned to the little inn, and wrote a letter to Monsieur de Villardin, telling him what I had done, and informing him that if he saw my beacon lighted on the mill, he might be sure that the enemy were making some decided movement, preparatory to an attack upon the royal army. This I instantly sealed and sent off--though not without letting the Duke know that I had seen Gaspard de Belleville at the enemy's outpost; but leaving him to draw his own deductions.