But just at that moment the uninterrupted roar of the artillery was
diversified by a brisk rattle of musketry proceeding from the edge of
the meadows, at a distance of two or three hundred yards. And at the
same time there was a transformation, as rapid and startling, almost,
as the stage effect in a fairy spectacle: the sun rose, the
exhalations of the Meuse were whirled away like bits of finest,
filmiest gauze, and the blue sky was revealed, in serene limpidity,
undimmed by a single cloud. It was the exquisite morning of a
faultless summer day.

"Ah!" exclaimed Delaherche, "they are crossing the railway bridge.
See, they are making their way along the track. How stupid of us not
to have blown up the bridge!"

The officer's face bore an expression of dumb rage. The mines had been
prepared and charged, he averred, but they had fought four hours the
day before to regain possession of the bridge and then had forgot to
touch them off.

"It is just our luck," he curtly said.

Weiss was silent, watching the course of events and endeavoring to
form some idea of the true state of affairs. The position of the
French in Bazeilles was a very strong one. The village commanded the
meadows, and was bisected by the Douzy road, which, turning sharp to
the left, passed under the walls of the Chateau, while another road,
the one that led to the railway bridge, bent around to the right and
forked at the Place de l'Eglise. There was no cover for any force
advancing by these two approaches; the Germans would be obliged to