What can I add more? an excerpt:
"Eight o'clock sounded from all the clocks. The moon was rising very late. Fog and night so enveloped in darkness terrible places where the drama designed by this man was about to unravel. The senior officer of the police force knew silence in his passions, he strongly folded his arms across the chest, and do not take his eyes off the window rose like a bright ghost above the tower. When the march was leading the side valleys on the edge of precipices, he watched mechanically fog furrowed by the faint light of a few lights shone here and there in the houses of the city or the suburbs, above and below the rampart. The deep silence which reigned was broken only the murmur of Nançon by the mournful strokes the belfry, by the heavy footsteps of the sentinels, or the sound of gunfire, when one came up hourly positions. Everything had become solemn, men and nature.
- It is as dark as the mouth of a wolf, said just now Pille-Miche.
- Go always replied Marche-to-earth, and does not speak more than a dead dog.
- I hardly dare breathe, replied the Chouan
- If one just to roll a stone wants his heart to serve my sheath knife, he has to start again, said Marche-a-terre in a voice so low it was confused with the rustle of Nançon waters.
- But that's me, said Pille-Miche.
- Well! in old bag, 'said the leader, slips on your belly like a hedge eel, otherwise we will leave our carcasses there earlier than necessary. "
