"I don't know, I know nothing more. And it's terrible, this shadow of death lying over everything, over every incident. It appears--I have not been able to find out where the rumor originated--that the village of Ornequin, near the château, no longer exists. It has been entirely destroyed, more than that, annihilated; and its four hundred inhabitants have been sent away into captivity. And then . . ." Paul shuddered and, lowering his voice, went on, "And then . . . what did they do at the château? You can see the house, you can still see it at a distance, with its walls and turrets standing. But what happened behind those walls? What has become of Élisabeth? For nearly four weeks she has been living in the midst of those brutes, poor thing, exposed to every outrage! . . ." The sun had hardly risen when they reached the square. Paul was sent for by his colonel, who gave him the heartiest congratulations of the general commanding the division and told him that his name had been submitted for the military cross and for a commission as second lieutenant and that he was to take command of his section from now. "That's all," said the colonel, laughing. "Unless you have any further request to make." "I have two, sir." "Go ahead." "First, that my brother-in-law here, Bernard d'Andeville, may be at once transferred to my section as corporal. He's deserved it." "Very well. And next?" "My second request is that presently, when we move towards the frontier, my section may be sent to the Château d'Ornequin, which is on the direct route." "You mean that it is to take part in the attack on the château?" "The attack?" echoed Paul, in alarm. "Why, the enemy is concentrated along the frontier, four miles from the château!" "So it was believed, yesterday. In reality, the concentration took place at the Château d'Ornequin, an excellent defensive position where the enemy is hanging desperately while waiting for his reinforcements to come up. The best proof is that he's answering our fire. Look at that shell bursting over there . . . and, farther off, that shrapnel . . . two . . . three of them. Those are the guns which located the batteries which we have set up on the surrounding hills and which are now peppering them like mad. They must have twenty guns there." "Then, in that case," stammered Paul, tortured by a horrible thought, "in that case, that fire of our batteries is directed at . . ." "At them, of course. Our seventy-fives have been bombarding the Château d'Ornequin for the last hour." Paul uttered an exclamation of horror: "Do you mean to say, sir, that we're bombarding Ornequin? . . ." And Bernard d'Andeville, standing beside him, repeated, in an anguish-stricken voice: "Bombarding Ornequin? Oh, how awful!" The colonel asked, in surprise: "Do you know the place? Perhaps it belongs to you? Is that so? And are any of your people there?" "Yes, sir, my wife."