The old grandfather sat in his corner, with a lighted candle
on the table near him, across his knees Jean's coat that I had
worn. He only babbled nonsense to my questioning, and, after
calling aloud to Babette and getting no reply, I started for
the Intendance.
I had scarcely left the house when I saw some French peasants
coming towards me with a litter. A woman, walking behind the
litter, carried a lantern, and one of our soldiers of artillery
attended and directed. I ran forward, and discovered Voban,
mortally hurt. The woman gave a cry, and spoke my name in a kind
of surprise and relief; and the soldier, recognizing me, saluted.
I sent him for a surgeon, and came on with the hurt man to the
little house. Soon I was alone with him save for Babette, and her
I sent for a priest. As soon as I had seen Voban I guessed what
had happened: he had tried for his revenge at last. After a little
time he knew me, but at first he could not speak.
"What has happened--the Palace?" said I.
He nodded.
"You blew it up--with Bigot?" I asked.
His reply was a whisper, and his face twitched with pain:
"Not--with Bigot."
I gave him some cordial, which he was inclined to refuse. It
revived him, but I saw he could live only a few hours. Presently
he made an effort. "I will tell you," he whispered.
"Tell me first of my wife," said I. "Is she alive?--is she alive?"
If a smile could have been upon his lips then, I saw one
there--good Voban! I put my ear down, and my heart almost stopped
beating, until I heard him say, "Find Mathilde.
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