Does not this circumstance prove that their friends are masters of the
town, and that they are awaiting them in force?
They advance, so certain of success that those who have guns do not even
take the trouble to load them.
M. d'Escorval and the abbe alone foresee the catastrophe.
The leader of the expedition is near them, they entreat him not to
neglect the commonest precautions, they implore him to send some two
men on in advance to reconnoitre; they, themselves, offer to go, on
condition that the peasants will await their return before proceeding
farther.
But their prayers are unheeded.
The peasants pass the outer line of fortifications in safety. The head
of the advancing column reaches the drawbridge.
The enthusiasm amounts to delirium; who will be the first to enter is
the only thought.
Alas! at that very moment a pistol is fired.
It is a signal, for instantly, and on every side, resounds a terrible
fusillade.
Three or four peasants fall, mortally wounded. The rest pause, frozen
with terror, thinking only of escape.
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