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Updated: June 28, 2025
In the courtyard of his little farmhouse, which was situated at the extremity of the pass of Harancourt, overlooking the village, Father Fouchard was stowing away in his carriole the carcasses of two sheep that he had slaughtered the day before.
So they slunk away and vanished in the darkness. When Fouchard saw that he had nothing more to fear he said in a matter-of-course way, as if he had seen his son only the day before: "It's you All right, I'll come down." His descent was a matter of time.
Toward the right, over the bare hills where the slumbering army lay, there brooded a stillness and repose like death. "Ah well!" said Maurice with a gesture of disappointment, "'twill be to-morrow morning." He had left the window open, and Father Fouchard, seizing his gun, straddled the sill and stepped outside, as lightly as a young man.
By this time it was night; the only concession that could be obtained from the young woman was that she would delay starting on her expedition until morning. When morning came old Fouchard could not be prevailed on to allow one of his horses to be taken, fearing he might never set eyes on it again. What assurance had he that the Prussians would not confiscate the entire equipage?
"Impossible, my love; we must have heard of him on the way; had he gone round by Montrenil, he must still have passed over the bridge of Fouchard, and we should have heard of him there." "He must have ridden over in the night; you see he so evidently wanted to conceal from you where he was going."
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