watching their opportunity they could get across unnoticed. 

 While they stared deliberating a squadron of cavalry, not of Cossacks, but of Russian cuirassiers left the camp and moved off down the cross-road that led to the south and west—the road, indeed, that led to the Château d'Aumenier. The officer in command rode in front and with him were several civilians, at least, while they were covered with heavy fur cloaks, no uniform was visible, and among the civilians was one unmistakably a woman. A Frenchman always had an eye for a woman. The party was too far away to distinguish features, but the two men noted the air of distinction about the party and the way the woman rode her horse, the deference that appeared to be paid to her, and they wasted no little time in wondering what might be toward. However, no explanation presenting itself to their minds, and, the matter being of no great importance after all, they turned their attention to the business in hand. 

 Working their way through the trees they reached a little coppice close to the road. They lay down on the ground back of the coppice, wormed their way into it, and waited. 

 "Here we part," said Marteau.  "There are but two of us. We must get all the information we can. I will find out what division this is in front of us, and I will go back along the road to the eastward and ascertain where the other divisions are, and by nightfall I will return to Sézanne to report to the Emperor." 

 "And what am I to do?" asked the grenadier.  "Remain here?" 

 "You will cross the road and proceed in the direction of the firing. Find out, if you can, how the battle goes, what troops are there, what Marshal Macdonald is doing, and at nightfall retrace your steps and hasten back to Sézanne." 

 "Where shall I meet you?" 

 "Let me think," answered Marteau.  "I shall first go east and then west, if I can get around that division ahead yonder. Let us take the road to d'Aumenier. I will meet you at the old château at ten o'clock, or not later than midnight. There is a by-road over the marsh and through the forest by the bank of the river to Sézanne." 

 "I know it." 

 "Very well, then. It is understood?" 

 Old Bullet-Stopper nodded. 

 "The road is clear," he said.  "Good luck." 

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