From a grove of trees in front of me there projected the steeple
of a village church. But there could not be two steeples like
that, for the corner of it had crumbled away or been struck by
lightning, so that it was of a most fantastic shape. I had seen
it only two daye{sic} before, and it was the church of the
village of Gosselies. It was not the hope of reaching the
village which set my heart singing with joy, but it was that I
knew my ground now, and that farm-house not half a mile ahead,
with its gable end sticking out from amid the trees, must be that
very farm of St. Aunay where we had bivouacked, and which I had
named to Captain Sabbatier as the rendezvous of the Hussars of
Conflans. There they were, my little rascals, if I could but
reach them. With every bound my horse grew weaker. Each instant
the sound of the pursuit grew louder. I heard a gust of
crackling German oaths at my very heels. A pistol bullet sighed
in my ears. Spurring frantically and beating my poor Arab with
the flat of my sword I kept him at the top of his speed.
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