Page 543 sur 896

The rider from the chateau, and the horse in a foam, clattered

away through the village, and galloped up the stony steep, to the

prison on the crag. At the gate, a group of officers were looking

at the fire; removed from them, a group of soldiers. "Help,

gentlemen--officers! The chateau is on fire; valuable objects may

be saved from the flames by timely aid! Help, help!" The officers

looked towards the soldiers who looked at the fire; gave no

orders; and answered, with shrugs and biting of lips, "It must

burn."