Catherine, seeing the spectacle, was aghast. The narrow road was a field of desolation. Houses still smoldering fire, broken trees, ditches, soil planted with live ammunition, boxes, belts artillery, bayonets twisted copper musical instruments crushed by cars.

On the side of the road was a dead half-naked, without shoes, his body covered with fern leaves, the mud gets on your face.

In the gray air, a cloud of crows moving in the air, following this unfortunate army, to devour his remains.

Martin, in response to the impression of Catherine, returned cautiously to reach back to French Quarter Arneguy. They entered the inn. There was abroad.

– Did not I tell you that we would be still, ’said he.

Yes. It’s true.

Martin presented his wife, the journalist and the three gathered to wait for the last soldiers.

At dusk, a group of six or seven and appeared Carlos Ohando
Cacho.

Catherine approached his brother with open arms.

– Carlos! Carlos’ cried.