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At the fourth halt, the officer moved unsuspiciously first on one side of the street, then on the other, but gave no order to his men to fall out. It seemed that he had forgotten, until he came suddenly running down the file and flashed his lantern into Fevrier's face. He had been secretly counting his men. "The French," he cried. "Load!" The one word quite compensated Fevrier for the detection.
General Jarras was writing at a table when Fevrier was admitted to his office. The Chief of the Staff inclined his lamp-shade so that the light fell full upon Fevrier's face, and the action caused the lieutenant to rejoice. So much care in the choice of the officer meant so much more important a duty. "The General Montaudon tells me," said Jarras, "that you are an obedient soldier."
That little fight in the dark street between the white-ruined cottages made Fevrier's blood dance. "Courage!" he cried. "The paraffin!" The combatants were well matched, and it was hand-to-hand and bayonet-to-bayonet. Fevrier loved his enemies at that moment. It even occurred to him that it was worth while to have deserted.
One man came close to Fevrier's doorway, and even looked in, but he saw nothing, though Fevrier was within six feet of him, holding his breath. Then the officer closed his lantern, the men re-formed and marched on. But they left behind with Lieutenant Fevrier an idea. He thought it quickly over. It pleased him, it was feasible, and there was comedy in it.
The same procedure was followed at the next halt and at the next; so that when the Prussians reached the Frenchward end of Vaudère there were twenty-three Prussians and ten Frenchmen in the file. To Fevrier's thinking it was sufficiently comic. There was something artistic about it too. Fevrier was pleased, but he had not counted on the quick Prussian step to which his soldiers were unaccustomed.
Now for days Lieutenant Fevrier's duties had begun and ended with him driving the soldiers of his company from eating unripe fruit; and here, unexpectedly, he was chosen from all the officers of his division for a particular exploit. The Lieutenant trembled with emotion. "My General!" he cried. The General himself was moved. "What your task will be," he continued, "I do not known.
His insistent and impatient questions elicited the information that probably Verennes would be found at Fevrier's. And so to Fevrier's famous restaurant in the old Palais Royal went La Boulaye, and there he had the good fortune to find not only Billaud Varennes, but also the Deputy Carnot. Nor did fortune end her favours there.
"The flag of the Patrie," said Fevrier, and with one accord the deserters uncovered. The match burned down to Fevrier's fingers, he dropped it and trod upon it and there was a moment's absolute stillness. Then in the darkness a ringing voice leapt out. "Vive la France!" It was not the lieutenant's voice, but the voice of a peasant from the south of the Loire, one of the deserters.
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