Thus the column advanced between the rows of elms like some gigantic serpent whose every ring had a strange quivering.

The frosty December night had again sunk into silence, and the Viorne alone seemed to roar more loudly.
On reaching the first houses of the Faubourg, Silvere ran on in front to fetch his gun from the Aire Saint-Mittre, which he found slumbering in the moonlight.

When he again joined the insurgents they had reached the Porte de Rome.

Miette bent towards him, and with her childish smile observed: "I feel as if I were at the procession on Corpus Christi Day carrying the banner of the Virgin.".