"Come, my friend, spit on your hands and be off!"
As he spoke the old soldier threw himself flat on his belly and crawled
slowly backward to the verge of the precipice. The spirit was strong,
but the flesh shuddered. To march upon a battery had always been a mere
pastime to the worthy corporal; but to face an unknown peril, to suspend
one's life upon a cord, was a different matter.
Great drops of perspiration, caused by the horror of his situation,
stood out upon his brow when he felt that half his body had passed the
edge of the precipice, and that the slightest movement would now launch
him into space.
He made this movement, murmuring:
"If there is a God who watches over honest people let Him open His eyes
this instant!"
The God of the just was watching.
Bavois arrived at the end of his dangerous journey with torn and
bleeding hands, but safe. He fell like a mass of rock; and the rudeness
of the shock drew from him a groan resembling the roar of an infuriated
beast.
For more than a minute he lay there upon the ground stunned and dizzy.
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