"Some plead the weather; and some argue that, with President Rochette, whose word is as good as his bond, on the point of coming to an agreement with us, the rounds are a farce!" The Syndic shrugged his shoulders.

"Well!" he muttered, rubbing his chin and looking thoughtfully before him, "we must not wear the men out.
There is no moon now, is there ?" "No." "And the enemy can attempt nothing without light," Blondel continued, thinking aloud.

"See here, Blandano, we must not put too heavy a burden on our people.

I see that.

As it is so cold, I think you may pass the word to pretermit the rounds to-night--save two.