So profound was the impression that, for more than a minute, these men,
familiar with peril and scenes of horror, stood in awed silence.
Maurice, who approached, followed by Corporal Bavois, brought them back
to the exigencies of the present.
"Ought we not to make haste and carry away my father?" he asked. "Must
we not be in Piedmont before evening?"
"Yes!" exclaimed the officers, "let us start at once."
But the priest did not move, and in a despondent voice, he said:
"To make any attempt to carry Monsieur d'Escorval across the frontier in
his present condition would cost him his life."
This seemed so inevitably a death-warrant for them all, that they
shuddered.
"My God! what shall we do?" faltered Maurice. "What course shall we
pursue?"
Not a voice replied. It was clear that they hoped for salvation through
the priest alone.
He was lost in thought, and it was some time before he spoke.
"About an hour's walk from here," he said, at last, "beyond the Croix
d'Arcy, is the hut of a peasant upon whom I can rely.
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