Having thus spoken, Jean-Claude descended from his elevation, and all was bustle and excitement. Each village deliberated separately, each mayor proposed his man, and in the meanwhile time was going on. Catherine Lefévre was burning with impatience. At length, unable to contain herself any longer, she stood up on her seat, and made a sign that she wished to speak.
Catherine was held in the highest estimation. At first some, then a greater number, drew near to learn what she had to say to them.
"My friends," said she, "we are losing too much time. What is it you require? A trusty leader, is it not? A soldier, who has been used to war, and who knows how to turn our positions to the best account? Well, then, why do you not choose Hullin? Is there one among you who can find a better man? If so, let him speak at once, that we may decide. For my part, I propose Jean-Claude Hullin. Do you hear, down below there? If this goes on much longer, the Austrians will be here before we have chosen a leader."
"Yes! yes! Hullin!" exclaimed Labarbe, Divès, Jerôme, and several others.
"Come, let us collect the votes for or against."
Then Marc Divès, climbing on to the trunks of timber, exclaimed, in a voice of thunder, "Let those who do not desire to have Jean-Claude Hullin for a leader hold up their hand."
Not a hand appeared.
"Let those who desire to have Jean-Claude Hullin for a leader hold up their hand."
Every hand was in the air.
"Jean-Claude," said the smuggler, "come up here, and look around. It is you whom they demand for a leader."
Master Jean-Claude, having done as desired, saw that he was appointed, and at once spoke in a firm tone, and said:—"Good. You appoint me your leader. I accept the post. Let the elder Materne, Labarbe of Dagsburg, Jerôme of Saint-Quirin, Marc Divès, Piorette the sawyer, and Catherine Lefévre, go into the sawpit. We will hold a council. In a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes I will issue orders. Meanwhile, let each village supply two men to Marc Divès for the transport of powder and ball to Falkenstein."
illustration
FOOTNOTES:[8]Sawyer.
[8]Sawyer.
[8]Sawyer.
CHAPTER IX.
All those whom Jean-Claude Hullin had named assembled under the shed of the sawpit around the immense hearth. A sort of pleased good-humour beamed in the faces of these brave men.
"For twenty years have I heard talk of the Russians, the Austrians, and the Cossacks," said old Materne, with a smile; "and now I shall not be sorry to see a few of them within range of my gun; that will be quite another thing."
"Yes," replied Labarbe; "we shall see some strange things; the little children of the mountain will be able to relate stories of their fathers and grandfathers, and the old women, won't they tell legends round the fire in fifty years to come?"
"Comrades," said Hullin, "you know all the country round; you have the mountain under your eyes from Thann to Wissembourg. You know that two highways, two imperial roads, cross Alsace and the Vosges. They both come from Bâle; one follows the course of the Rhine as far as Strasbourg, from whence it proceeds along the borders of the Saverne till it reaches Lorraine. It is protected by Huningen, Neuf-Brisach, Strasbourg, and Phalsbourg. The other turns to the left, and goes as far as Schlestadt; from Schlestadt it enters themountain, and reaches Saint-Dié, Raon-l'Etape, Bacarat, and Lunéville. At first the enemy wanted to force these two roads, as being better for the cavalry, artillery, and baggage; but as they are defended, we have nothing to fear on that head. If the Allies besiege the strong places—which will lengthen out the campaign—then we shall have nothing to fear; but that is not very probable. After having summoned Huningen to surrender, Belfort, Schlestadt, Strasbourg, and Phalsbourg, on this side of the Vosges; Bitche, Lutzelstein, and Sarrebrück on the other, I think they will fall upon us. Now, listen to me well. Between Phalsbourg and Saint-Dié there are several defiles for the infantry; but there is only one road available for cannon; that is the road from Strasbourg to Raon-les-Leaux by Urmatt, Mutzig, Lutzelhouse, Phramond, Grandfontaine. Once masters of this passage, the Allies could come down upon Lorraine. This road leads to the Donon, two leagues from here on our right. The first thing to do is to establish ourselves firmly there in the spot most favourable to the defence—that is to say, on the sides of the mountain; to intersect it, to break down the bridges, and to throw strong barricades across it. A few hundred strong trees laid across a road with all their branches are as good as ramparts. They serve, too, for the best ambuscades, as you are well sheltered, and can see all that is going on. Those big trees are the very devil! you have to cut them down bit to bit; you cannot throw bridges over them; in fact, there's nothing better. All this, comrades, will be done by to-morrow evening, or the day after at latest. I will undertake that; but it is not enough to occupy a position, and put it in a good state of defence;we must still further manage that the enemy cannot turn it."
"Just what I was thinking," said Materne. "Once in the valley of the Bruche, the Germans can enter with the infantry among the hills of Haslach, and turn our left. Nothing can prevent their trying the same manœuvre on our right, if they succeed in reaching Raon-l'Etape."
"Yes; but to prevent that, we have one very simple thing to do; that is, to occupy the defiles of the Zorn and the Sarre on our left, and that of the Blanru on our right. The best way to guard a defile is by holding the heights; Piorette will, therefore, station himself with a hundred men on the side of Raon-les-Leaux; Jerôme, on the Grosmann, with a like number, to defend the valley of the Sarre; and Labarbe, at the head of the rest, to overlook the hills of the Haslach. You will choose your men from among those of the nearest villages. The women must not have far to go to bring provisions, and then the wounded will be nearer home, which must be thought of, too. This is, for the present, all I have to say to you. The leaders will be careful to send to me every day to the Donon, where I am going to establish this very evening our head-quarters, a good walker, to inform me of all that is going on, and receive the password. We will organize also a reserve; but, as we must make the greatest haste, we will talk of that when you have all taken up your positions, and when there is no longer any fear of surprise on the part of the enemy."
"And I," exclaimed Marc Divès; "I shall have nothing to do, then? I am to remain with my arms folded looking at the others fighting?"
"For you, your duty will be to overlook the transport of the ammunition; none of us understand like you managing powder, preserving it from fire and damp, casting bullets, and making cartridges."
"But all that is woman's work," exclaimed the smuggler; "Hexe-Baizel would do it as well as me. What! am I not to fire a single shot?"
"Be easy, Marc," replied Hullin, with a laugh; "you will not want for opportunities. In the first place, the Falkenstein is the centre of our line—it is our arsenal, and our point of retreat in case of misfortune. The enemy will know, through his spies, that our convoys set out from thence; he will probably attempt to intercept them. You will have enough of bullets, and bayonets, too. Besides, even if you are under shelter, so much the better, for it would not do to confide your caves to the first comer. Still, if you really wish——"
"No," said the smuggler, who had been struck by Hullin's remark about his caves; "no; all things well considered, I believe you are right, Jean-Claude. I have my men; they are well armed. We will defend the Falkenstein, and if an opportunity of firing a shot offers I shall be more free."
"Then this matter is arranged, and we all understand?" asked Hullin.
"Yes, yes; we understand."
"Well, comrades," exclaimed the brave man, in a joyful accent, "let us warm our hearts with a few good glasses of wine. It is ten o'clock, so let everyone return to his village, and make his preparations. To-morrow morning, at the latest, all the defiles of the mountain must be strongly occupied."
They then came out of the shed, and Hullin, in presence of all, named as leaders Labarbe, Jerôme, and Piorette; he then told all those of the Sarre to assemble as soon as possible near the farm of Bois-de-Chênes with hatchets, pickaxes, and guns. "We will set out at two o'clock," said he, "and we will encamp on the Donon along the road. To-morrow, at daybreak, we will begin our entrenchments."
He detained old Materne and his sons Frantz and Kasper, to announce to them that the battle would doubtless commence at the Donon, and that they should, therefore, need some good marksmen in that part, at which they were greatly pleased.
Dame Lefévre had never appeared happier. As she got up again into her cart, she embraced Louise, and whispered in her ear: "All is going well. Jean-Claude is a man; he sees everything; he carries everyone along with him. Even me, who have known him for forty years, he astonishes me."
Then turning to him: "Jean-Claude," said she, "we have a ham waiting for us at home, and a few bottles of old wine, that we'll not leave for the Germans to drink."
"No, Catherine; they shall not drink them. Come on."
But just as she was flourishing her whip, and as a goodly number of mountaineers were ascending the steep sides of the mountain on their way back to their respective villages, there was seen approaching, in the extreme distance, a tall, thin man sitting in his goat-skin saddle, a hare-skin cap on his head, which he held erect. An enormous long-haired sheep-dog camebounding along by his side, and the flaps of his immense riding-coat flew behind him like wings. Everyone exclaimed: "It is Doctor Lorquin of the plain; he who attends the poor gratis. Here he comes, with his dog Pluto; ah! he is a worthy man!"
It was indeed he; he came galloping along, shouting at the top of his voice, "Halt! stop! halt!" and with his face as red as fire, his big eyes sparkling with excitement, his long beard of a reddish brown, his broad stooping shoulders, and his great bounding sheep-dog, he came along at a swinging pace. In two more minutes he had reached the foot of the mountain, crossed the meadow, and brought up in front of the shed. Immediately after a voice, panting for breath, was heard to say, "Ah! how deaf you all are! and the idea of going on a campaign without me! You shall pay for it!" touching a little chest, which he was carrying behind him, "Stay a minute, my lads," said he; "I've something in there that you can't very well do without. I have in there little knives and large ones, round and sharp ones, for digging out the bullets, and shot of all sorts, that you will be peppered with." And then he burst into a loud peal of laughter, and all the spectators felt their flesh creep.
Having given utterance to this agreeable pleasantry, Doctor Lorquin resumed, in a graver tone, "Hullin, I must pull your ears for you. What! forget me, when the point in question was the defence of our country! Suffer me to be informed of it by others! And yet it seems to me that a doctor will be in requisition here, I must blame you."
"Forgive me, doctor; I have been in the wrong," said Hullin, warmly pressing his hand. "During the last week so many things have happened. You cannot always think of everybody; and, besides, a man like you does not require to be warned of his duty to fulfil it."
The doctor's brow relaxed. "All this is very well, and very good," he exclaimed; "but that does not alter the fact that, by your neglect, I might have arrived too late. All the good places are taken, the crosses distributed. Come, lead me to the general, that I may prefer my complaint to him."
"I am the general, and I appoint you surgeon-in-chief to the forces."
"Surgeon-in-chief to the forces of the Vosges! Well, that will suit me. No malice, Jean-Claude." Then, approaching the cart, the worthy man told Catherine that he should depend upon her for the organization of theambulances.
"Make your mind easy, doctor," replied the farm-mistress; "all shall be ready. Louise and I will make that our special care from this very evening; will we not, Louise?"
"Oh, yes! Mother Lefévre," murmured the young girl, enchanted to see that they had actually commenced the campaign; "we will work hard, day and night, if needs be. M. Lorquin may make his mind quite easy."
"Well, then, forward! You dine with us, doctor."
The little cart set out at full trot; all along the road, the good doctor laughingly recounted to Catherine howthe news of the general rising had reached him; the despair of his old housekeeper, Marie, who strove hard to prevent his going to be massacred by thekaiserlicks; in short, the different episodes of his journey from Quibolo to the village of Charmes. Hullin, Materne, and his boys walked a few steps behind, with gun on shoulder, and in this way they ascended the mountain, and directed their steps towards the farm of Bois-de-Chênes.
illustration
CHAPTER X.
You may imagine the state of excitement at the farm, the comings and goings of the servants, enthusiastic shouts of all, the clinkings of glasses, and clatterings of knives and forks, the joy painted on every face, when Jean-Claude, Doctor Lorquin, the Maternes, and all those who had followed Catherine's vehicle, were installed in the large house-room at the farm, around a magnificent ham, and had set steadily to work to celebrate their future triumphs cup in hand.
It chanced to be on a Tuesday, always a grand cooking day at the farm.
The great kitchen fire had been blazing since morning; old Duchêne, in his shirt-sleeves, was drawing from the oven innumerable manchets of bread, the good smell of which pervaded the whole house. Annette took them from his hands, and piled them up in a corner of the hearth. Louise waited on the guests, and Catherine Lefévre superintended everything, calling out as she did so:
"Make haste, children, make haste, the third batch must be ready by the time the men from the Sarre arrive. That will make six pounds of bread a man."
Hullin, from his place, watched the old farm-mistress as she came and went.
"What a woman!" he exclaimed, "what a woman!Go and find me such another the whole country round! She forgets nothing! The health of Catherine Lefévre!"
"The health of Catherine Lefévre!" was loudly responded by all the rest.
There was a renewed clinking of glasses, and then the talk fell again on marches, attacks, and entrenchments. Every one felt inspired by an invincible confidence; every one said to himself, "All will prosper."
But Heaven was reserving for them on that day a still greater pleasure and surprise, and especially for Louise and Dame Lefévre. Towards noon, just as a bright ray of the winter's sun was making the snow look whiter than ever and melting the hoar-frost on the window-panes, and the great red cock thrusting his head out of the fowl-house was flapping his wings and making the echoes of the Valtin resound with his shrill cry of triumph, all of a sudden the watch-dog, old Yohan, who was quite toothless, and very nearly blind, began to give vent to a succession of barks at once so joyous and so plaintive, that everyone's attention was attracted.
The great kitchen fire was blazing at its height; the third batch was being drawn from the oven, and yet Catherine Lefévre herself stopped to listen.
"There is something going to happen," said she, in a low tone.
Then she added, in a voice that shook with emotion:
"Since my boy left home, Yohan has never barked like that."
At the same moment rapid steps were heard crossing the court-yard; Louise sprang towards the door, exclaiming, "It is he! it is he!" and almost immediatelya trembling hand was at the latch; the door opened, and a soldier appeared at the threshold, but a soldier, so lank, sunburnt, and haggard, his old grey overcoat with pewter buttons so worn out, his long cloth gaiters so torn and discoloured, that all the spectators were speechless with surprise.
He seemed unable to take a step farther, as he firmly put the butt-end of his gun to the ground. The tip of his eagle nose—the exact counterpart of Dame Lefévre's—shone like bronze, his red moustaches quivered; he looked just like one of those lean, hungry hawks driven by famine in winter to the stable doors. He looked straight into the kitchen, and his cheeks seemed to turn pale beneath their tinge of sun-brown, and his hollow eyes filled with tears as he stood there without being able to speak a word or advance a step.
Out of doors the old dog kept leaping, and whining, and rattling his chain as if he would break it; within, not a sound could be heard but the crackling of the fire, so deep was the silence; but very soon the voice of Catherine Lefévre was heard exclaiming, in heartrending tones:—
"Gaspard!—my child! It is you!"
"Yes, mother!" replied the soldier, in a voice choking with emotion.
And in a second Louise had begun to sob, whilst all in the vast room rose at once with a noise like thunder.
All ran towards him, with Master Jean-Claude at their head, shouting:
"Gaspard!—Gaspard Lefévre!"
But Gaspard and his mother were clasped in each other's arms: this woman, usually so strong-minded,so courageous, was weeping unrestrainedly; her son shed no tears, but held her close to his heart, his red moustaches buried in her gray locks, as he murmured:
"Mother! mother! ah! how often have I thought of you!"
Then, in a louder voice:
"Louise!" said he, "I saw Louise!"
And Louise rushed into his arms, and they mingled their tears and kisses together.
"Ah! you did not know me again, Louise!"
"Oh! yes—oh! yes, I knew you directly by your step."
Old Duchêne, with his cotton night-cap in his hand, stood by the fire stammering:
"Gracious Lord—is it possible? my poor child—how changed he is!"
He had brought Gaspard up, and always pictured him since his departure fresh and ruddy-cheeked, in a handsome uniform with red facings. It deranged all his ideas to see him otherwise.
At this moment Hullin, raising his voice, said:
"And we, Gaspard, all of us, your old friends, have you nothing to say to us?"
Then the brave fellow turned round, and uttered a shout of recognition:
"Hullin! Doctor Lorquin! Materne! Frantz! all! they are all here!"
And the embracings began again, but this time more joyously, mingled with shouts of laughter and hearty hand-shakings, that seemed as if they would never come to an end.
"Ah! Doctor, is that you? Ah! my old Papa Jean-Claude!"
They looked at him again and again, staring him full in the face with countenances beaming with joy, as if to assure themselves that it was really he; then, linking their arms in his, they carried rather than led him into the kitchen, and Dame Catherine followed with his knapsack, Louise with the gun, Duchêne with the tall shako, all laughing and crying by turns, and drying their eyes and cheeks. You never saw anything like it.
"Come, let us sit down—let us drink!" exclaimed Doctor Lorquin; "this is thebouquetof the feast."
"Ah! my poor Gaspard, how glad I am to see you come back again safe and sound," said Hullin. "He! he! without wishing to flatter you, I like you better as you are than with your fat red cheeks. You are a man now, i'faith! You remind me of the old soldiers of my own time, the men of Sambre, of Egypt, ha! ha! ha! we had no fat cheeks among us! we were not sleek and shining! We looked more like hungry rats who have just caught sight of a piece of cheese, and our teeth were long and white, I warrant you."
"Yes, yes; that does not surprise me, Papa Jean-Claude," replied Gaspard. "Sit down, sit down; we shall talk more at our ease. But what is this?—what brings you all to the farm?"
"What! you do not know? All the country is up in arms, from the Houpe to St. Sauveur, to defend ourselves."
"Yes, the Anabaptist of Painbach told me something of this as I was passing; it is true, then?"
"Is it true? Why, everyone is engaged in it, and I am general-in-chief."
"All right, all right; a thousand thunders! Letthose dogs ofkaiserlickshave their own way in our country! that wouldn't suit me at all. But just pass me the knife. Whatever happens, it's always jolly to find oneself at home again. I say, Louise, just come and sit beside me a little. Look, Papa Jean-Claude, with my little girl on one side of me, that capital ham on the other, and a jug of good wine forming the line in front, it would not take me a fortnight to get into condition again, and my comrades would not know me again when I joined my company."
Everybody had sat down again, and was fully employed in watching with wondering looks the brave soldier, cutting, carving, quaffing, then casting tender glances at Louise and his mother, and replying to one and another without at the same time losing a single mouthful.
The farm people, Duchêne, Annette, Robin, and Dubourg, ranged behind in a half-circle, stood gazing upon Gaspard in a sort of ecstasy; Louise kept filling up his glass, while Dame Lefévre, sitting near the oven, looked over the contents of his knapsack, and finding there nothing but two old shirts quite black with dirt, and with holes large enough to put your hand in, a pair of shoes down at heel, an empty tobacco-pouch, a comb with three teeth, and an empty bottle, she lifted up her hands, murmuring to herself: "Good Lord! need we be surprised that so many die of starvation!"
Doctor Lorquin, at the sight of such a vigorous appetite, gleefully rubbed his hands, as he muttered from under his thick beard: "What a fellow it is! What a digestion! What a set of teeth! Why, he could crack pebbles like nuts!"
And even old Materne said to his boys: "In mytime, after a two or three days' hunt on the mountain tops in winter, I have known what it was, too, to have the appetite of a wolf, and to eat the haunch of a roe-buck at a sitting; now I am grown old, a pound or two of meat is enough for me. Age makes all the difference!"
Hullin had lit his pipe, and seemed absent and thoughtful; it was plain that he was uneasy about something. After a few moments, seeing Gaspard's appetite begin to relax, he abruptly exclaimed: "But tell us, Gaspard, if I may make so bold as to ask, how does it happen that you are here? We thought you were still on the Strasbourg side of the Rhine!"
"Ah! ha! old boy, I understand," said young Lefévre, with a knowing wink; "there are so many deserters; is it not so?"
"Oh! such an idea as that would never enter my head! and yet——"
"You would not be sorry to know if we are all right and correct! I don't blame you, Papa Jean-Claude; you are quite right; those who don't answer to the muster-roll when thekaiserlicksare in France, richly deserve to be shot! Make your mind happy; there's my leave."
Hullin, who had no false delicacy, read: "Twenty-four hours' leave of absence to Grenadier Gaspard Lefévre, of the 2nd company of the 1st regiment.—January the 3rd, 1814.Gemeau, chief of the battalion." "Good, good," said he; "put it up in your knapsack; you might chance to lose it."
All his good-humour had returned.
"Look you, my children," said he, "I know what love is; there is bad and good about it; but it is badin particular for young soldiers who come too near their homes after a campaign. They are capable of forgetting all and everything till they find themselves brought back with two or three gendarmes at their heels. I've seen that happen before now. But, however, since everything is clear and straightforward here, let's drain a bumper ofrikevir. What say you, Catherine? The men of the Sarre may arrive from one moment to the next, and we have not an instant to lose."
"You say well, Jean-Claude," replied the old farm-mistress, sadly. "Go down and bring up three bottles from the little cellar, Annette."
The servant-girl ran quickly out at her mistress's orders.
"But this leave, Gaspard," continued Catherine, "how much longer has it to run?"
"I received it yesterday, at eight in the evening, at Vasselonne, mother. The regiment is in retreat upon Lorraine; I must rejoin it this evening at Phalsbourg."
"Well and good; you have still seven hours before you. It will not take you more than six to get there, though there is a good deal of snow at Foxthâl."
The good woman came and sat down by her son. Her heart was full almost to bursting; she could not conceal her grief. Everyone was deeply touched. Louise, with her arm on Gaspard's worn-out epaulet, and her cheek pressed against his, was sobbing as if her heart would break. Hullin knocked the ashes out of his pipe on the corner of the table; he sat silently, with knitted brows and compressed lips; but as soon as the bottles made their appearance and were uncorked,"Come, Louise!" he exclaimed, "courage! what the deuce! All this will be only for a short time; it must come to an end some way or another, and I say that it will end well. Gaspard will come back, and we shall have a happy wedding."
He filled up the glasses as he spoke, and Catherine wiped her eyes as she murmured: "And to think that all these robbers are the cause of this happening to us! Ah, let them come! let them only come here!"
They drank, though in a melancholy sort of way, but the good oldrikevir, as it found its way to the hearts of these worthy people, soon cheered their drooping spirits. Gaspard, stronger than he had appeared at first, began to relate the terrible affairs of Bautzen, Lutzen, Leipzig, and Hanau, where the conscripts had fought like veterans, gaining victory upon victory until traitors found their way among them. Everyone listened with silent interest; Louise, when the recital touched upon moments of great danger—crossing rivers under the enemy's fire, carrying a battery at the point of the bayonet—pressing his arm as if to defend him. Jean-Claude's eyes sparkled. The doctor always wanted to know the exact position of the ambulances; Materne and his sons stretched out their necks, and showed by the rigid compression of their massive red-bearded jaws how eagerly they were drinking in every word that fell from his lips, and with the aid of the generous wine, the general enthusiasm increased each moment, and every now and then vented itself in muttered expressions. "Oh! the dogs! the villains! let them beware! All is not over yet!"
Dame Lefévre admired the courage and good fortuneof her son in the midst of these events, the memory of which will be preserved from generation to generation. But when Lagarmitte, grave and solemn, in his long gray gaberdine, his large black felt hat upon his head, his wooden horn on his shoulder, crossed the kitchen, and, standing in the doorway, announced, "The men from the Sarre are coming!" then all this excitement disappeared, and everyone rose, thinking only of the terrible struggle which was shortly going to begin on the mountain.
Louise threw her arms round Gaspard's neck, exclaiming: "Gaspard, do not leave us! Stay with us!"
He turned very pale. "I am a soldier," said he; "my name is Gaspard Lefévre; I love thee, Louise, a thousand times better than my own life, but a Lefévre knows nothing but his duty!" And he unclasped her arms from about his neck. Then Louise sank, half-fainting, down, and, with her head lying on the table, began to groan aloud. Gaspard rose.
Hullin placed himself between them, and pressing his hands warmly, while his own strong frame shook with emotion, "Right, my lad!" said he; "spoken like a man, and a brave one, too."
His mother approached more calmly to buckle his knapsack on to his shoulders. She performed that task with knit brows, her lips firmly compressed under her long hooked nose, without uttering a sigh; but two big tears slowly coursed each other down the furrows in her cheeks. And when she had finished, turning round with her sleeve to her eyes, she said, "There; go, go, my child, thy mother blesses thee. If war seizes thee for its prey, still thou wilt not be dead to us. See,Gaspard, there is thy place; there, between Louise and me; thou wilt ever be there! This poor child is not yet old enough to know that to live is but to suffer."
Everyone went out. Louise, left alone, began to weep and groan afresh. A few moments after, as she heard the butt end of his gun resounding on the flagstones and the outer door opening, she rushed out after him, shrieking in heartrending tones, "Gaspard! Gaspard! see, I will be firm; I will not cry any more; I do not want to keep you back—oh, no, but do not leave me in anger; have pity on me!"
"Anger! angry with you, my darling! Oh, no, no," he replied. "But to see you so miserable breaks my heart. Ah! if you had but a little firmness now, I should be happy."
"Well, then, I have; kiss me. See, I am no longer the same. I will try to be like our good mother Lefévre."
They exchanged their parting embrace with more calmness. Hullin stood by, holding the gun; Catherine waved her hand, as much as to say, "Go, go—enough."
And he, suddenly seizing his weapon, departed, with a firm step, and without once turning his head.
On the other side, the men of the Sarre, with their pickaxes and hatchets, were climbing in procession the steep and rugged ascent of the Valtin.
At the end of five minutes, at the turning by the great oak, Gaspard looked round, and waved his hand. Catherine and Louise answered him. Hullin then came forward to meet his men. Doctor Lorquinalone remained with the women; when Gaspard, continuing his way, was quite out of sight, he exclaimed:—"Catherine Lefévre, you may be proud of having so brave a man for your son. Heaven speed and prosper him!"
They heard the distant voices of the new-comers, who were laughing gaily among themselves, and marching to war as to a marriage festival.
illustration
CHAPTER XI.
Whilst Hullin, at the Head of the mountaineers, was taking his measures for the defence of his country, the fool Yégof—that being deprived of the blessing of self-consciousness, that unhappy creature with his tin crown, that sad spectacle of humanity shorn of its noblest, greatest, most vital attribute, intelligence—the fool Yégof, his breast exposed to the cutting wind, his feet bare, insensible to cold, like the reptile in his icy prison, was wandering from mountain to mountain, in the midst of the snows of winter.
Whence comes it that the madman is able to resist the sharpest severity of the atmosphere, while an intelligent being would succumb to it? Does it arise from a more powerful concentration of life, a more rapid circulation of the blood, a state of perpetual fever? Or is it the effect of the over-excitement of the senses, or any other unknown cause?
Science says nothing. She admits only material causes, powerless to give an account of such phenomena.
So Yégof went on at random, and night came. The cold was redoubled, the fox gnashed his teeth in the pursuit of an invisible prey; the famished buzzard fell back with empty claws among the bushes, uttering a cry of distress. He, with his raven on his shoulder, gesticulating, jabbering, as if in a dream, kept marching,marching on, from Holderloch to Sonneberg, from Sonneberg to Blutfeld.
Now, on this particular night, the old shepherd, Robin, of the farm of Bois-de-Chêne, was destined to be the witness of a most strange and fearful sight.
Some days before, having been overtaken by the first fall of snow at the bottom of the gorge of the Blutfeld, he had left his cart there to conduct his flock back to the farm; but having discovered that he had forgotten his sheepskin, and left it in a shed there, he had on this day, when his work was done, set out about four o'clock in the afternoon to go and fetch it.
The Blutfeld, situated between the Schneeberg and the Grosmann, is a narrow gorge, bounded by perpendicular rocks. A narrow stream of water winds through it, summer and winter, under shadow of the tall shrubs, and in its depths extends a vast pasturage, all covered with large gray stones, that lie thickly scattered about.
This defile is very little frequented by the dwellers in the mountains, for there is a wild and weird look about the Blutfeld, especially by the pale light of a winter's moon. The learned folks of these regions, the schoolmasters of Dagsburg, and of Hazlach, say that in that spot occurred the famous battle of the Triboques against the Germans, who wished to penetrate into Gaul, under the command of a leader named Luitprandt. They say that the Triboques, from the surrounding mountain-tops, hurling upon their enemies huge masses of rocks, crushed them there as in a mortar, and that, on account of this great carnage, the gorge has preserved to this day the name ofBlutfeld(field of blood). Fragments of broken pots, of rusty lances, bitsof helmets, and long swords with cross hilts, are often found there.
At night time, when the moon sheds her soft light upon this field and those immense stones, all covered with snow, when the north wind blows and whistles among the frost-covered branches, making them rustle and clatter like cymbals, you might fancy you heard the wild cry of the Germans at the moment of surprise, the shrieks and groans of the women, the neighings of the horses, the hoarse rumbling of the chariots in the defile; for it appears that these people brought with them, in their skin-covered carriages, women, children, old men, and all that they possessed in gold, and silver, and moveables, like the Germans setting out for America. The Triboques never ceased to massacre them during two days, and on the third they went back to the Donon, the Schneeberg, the Grosmann, the Giromani, the Hengst, their broad shoulders stooping under the weight of their booty.
This is what is related concerning the Blutfeld, and certainly to see this gorge enclosed within the mountains like an immense trap, without any other outlet than a narrow footpath, it is easy to understand how the Germans might have been surprised there, and fallen an easy prey to their victors.
Robin did not reach the spot till between seven and eight o'clock, just as the moon was rising.
The honest fellow had descended the precipice a hundred times, but never had he beheld the place so brightly illuminated and at the same time of so gloomy and sinister an aspect.
At a distance, his white cart, standing at the bottom of the abyss, looked to him exactly like one of thoseenormous stones, covered with snow, beneath which the Germans had been interred. It was at the entrance of the gorge, behind a thick cluster of shrubs, and beside it the little torrent ran murmuring in a slender stream, bright as steel, and sparkling like diamonds.
When he arrived at the place, the shepherd began to look for the key of the padlock; then, having unlocked the shed, he crept in on his hands and knees, and found, very fortunately, not only his sheepskin, but even an old hatchet which he had quite forgotten.
But judge of his surprise when, on issuing from it, he saw the fool Yégof appear at the turn of the footpath, and come straight towards him in the bright moonlight.
The honest man immediately remembered the terrible story told in the kitchen of Bois-de-Chênes, and he felt afraid; but quite another feeling came over him when behind the fool, at fifteen or twenty paces, he beheld, stealthily approaching in their turn, five grey wolves, two big and three smaller ones.
At first he took them for dogs, but they were wolves. They followed Yégof step by step, and he did not appear to see them; his raven hovered overhead, flitting from the full moonlight to the shadow of the rocks, and then returning; the wolves, with flaming eyes, their sharp muzzles turned up, were sniffing the air; the fool raised his sceptre.
The shepherd pulled to the door of the shed as quick as lightning, but Yégof did not see him. He advanced into the gorge as into a spacious audience-chamber; to the right and left rose the steep rocks, far above which myriads of stars were shining. You might have hearda fly move; the wolves trod the ground noiselessly; not a sound was there, and the raven had just perched on the top of an old withered oak that grew upon one of the rocks opposite; his shining plumage looked still darker than usual, as he turned his head, and seemed to be listening.
It was a strange sight.
Robin said to himself:—"The fool sees nothing, hears nothing; they will devour him. If he stumbles, if his foot slips, it is all over with him."
But in the middle of the gorge, Yégof, having turned round, sat down upon a stone, and the five wolves, all round him, still sniffing the air, squatted on their haunches in the snow.
And then, a really terrible sight, the fool raising his sceptre, addressed a speech to them, calling them each by their names.
The wolves answered him with dismal howls.
Now this is what he said to them:—"Hé! Child, Bléed, Merweg, and thou, Sirimar, my ancient, we are met together, then, once again! You have come back fat. There has been good cheer in Germany, eh?"
Then, pointing to the snow-covered gorge:—"You remember the great battle?"
First one of the wolves began to howl slowly in a dismal voice, then another, then all the five together.
This lasted a good ten minutes.
The raven, perched on the withered branch, did not stir.
Robin would gladly have fled. He put up his prayers, invoked all the saints, and, in particular, his own patron, for whom all the shepherds of the mountain have the highest veneration.
But the wolves still continued to utter their dismal howlings, awakening all the echoes of the Blutfeld.
At last one, the oldest of the number, was silent, then another, then all, and Yégof continued:—"Yes, yes; that is a dismal story. See! behold! there is the river down which our blood flowed in streams! No matter, Merweg, no matter; the others have left their bones to whiten on the common, and the cold moon has seen their women tearing their hair for three days and three nights! Oh! that terrible day! Oh! the dogs! were they proud of their great victory! Let them be accursed—accursed!"
The fool had cast his crown to the ground. He now picked it up, groaning as he did so.
The wolves, still seated round, listened to him like attentive spectators. The biggest among them began to howl, and Yégof answered his complaint.
"You are hungry, Sirimar; take comfort, take comfort; you will not want for food much longer; the men of our side are coming, and the strife will begin afresh."
Then rising, and striking his sceptre on a stone.
"See," said he, "behold thy bones!"
He approached another.
"And thine, Merweg, behold them!" said he.
All the troop followed him, while he, raising himself upon a low rock, and glancing round upon the still and silent gorge, exclaimed:—"Our war song is silent! our war song is now a groan! The hour is near; it will re-awaken, and you will be among the warriors, you will possess once more these valleys and these mountains. Oh! that sound of wheels, those cries of women, those blows from crushing rocks and stones; Ihear them; the air is full of them. Yes, yes; they fell on us from above, and we were surrounded. And now all is dead; hark! all is dead; your bones sleep, but your children are on their way, and your turn will come. Sing, sing!"
And this time he himself began to howl, whilst the wolves broke out afresh in their savage war-cry.
These dismal howls grew more and more loud and appalling, and the silence of the rocks around, some plunged in thick darkness, while others were fully revealed in the moon's bright rays, the solemn stillness of every tree and shrub beneath its weight of snow, the distant echoes replying with a mysterious voice to the mournful concert, all were calculated to strike terror into the breast of the old shepherd.
But by degrees his fears grew less, for Yégof and his dismal followers were getting farther and farther away from him, and gradually retreating towards Hazlach.
The raven, in his turn, unfurled his wings, and took his flight through the pale vault of heaven.
The whole scene vanished like a dream!
Robin heard for a long time after the howlings of the retreating wolves. They had completely ceased for more than twenty minutes, and not a sound broke the deep silence of the winter night, when the worthy man felt himself sufficiently recovered from his fright to come out of his hiding-place, and take his way back at full speed to the farm.
On arriving at Bois-de-Chênes, he found everybody up and stirring. They were going to kill an ox for the troops from the Donon. Hullin, Doctor Lorquin, and Louise were already gone with the men from the Sarre.Catherine Lefévre was busy, having her great waggon, with four horses, loaded with bread, meat, and brandy. People were coming and going in all directions, and all eagerly lending a helping hand in the preparations.
Robin had no opportunity of relating to anyone all that he had seen and heard. Besides, it seemed to himself so incredible that he really dared not open his mouth about it.
When he had retired to rest in his crib in the middle of the stable, he said to himself that no doubt Yégof had, during the winter, tamed a litter of young wolves, and that he babbled his folly to them in the same way that one talks sometimes to one's dog.
But, for all that, this strange encounter left a superstitious dread upon his mind, and even when he had arrived at a great age, the good old man never spoke of it without shuddering.
illustration
CHAPTER XII.
All was accomplished that Hullin had commanded: the defiles of the Zorne, and of the Sarre, were strongly defended; that of the Blanru, the extreme of the position, had been put in a state of defence by Jean-Claude himself and the three hundred men who formed his principal force.
It is thither, on the eastern acclivity of the Donon, twokilometres'distance from Grandfontaine, that we must transport ourselves to await the coming of events.
Above the high road which intersects the mountain two-thirds of the way up, was at that time to be observed a farm surrounded by a few acres of cultivated land, the homestead of Pelsly, the Anabaptist, a large building with a flat roof such as was needed to avoid being carried away by the strong gusts of wind. The back part, extending in the direction of the mountain top, was appropriated to the stables and pigsties.
The confederates were encamped all around. At their feet lay Grandfontaine and Framont, confined within a narrow gorge; farther off, at the turning of the valley, Schirmeck, and its old pile of feudal ruins; and in the greatest distance of all, the Bruche disappearing in zig-zag in the vapourish mists of Alsace.To their left rose the barren summit of the Donon, thickly strewn with rocks and some stubbly firs; while before them was the snow-covered road, with huge trees unstripped of their branches thrown across it. The melting snow suffered the yellow pasture land to appear from time to time; at others it formed large waves tossed to and fro by the fierce north wind.
The prospect was at once awful and sublime. Not a pedestrian, not a vehicle appeared on the road which winds through the valley till it gradually disappears in the distance: the whole place seemed like a desert.
The few fires scattered round about the farm, sending their puffs of dense smoke up to the sky, alone indicated the position of the camp. The mountaineers seated round the fires over which their food was cooking, their broad-brimmed hats pushed back on their heads, their guns slung on their shoulders, were quite sad and desponding: for three days they had been on the look-out.
In one of these groups, with crossed legs, rounded back, and pipe in mouth, were old Materne and his two sons.
From time to time Louise would appear at the door of the farm, then re-enter very quickly and set to work again. A large cock, scratching on the dunghill, was crowing with a hoarse voice; two or three fowls were strutting up and down among the bushes. All this was pleasant to behold; but what chiefly rejoiced the volunteers was to contemplate the magnificent sides of bacon, of a beautiful red and white, so temptingly blended, hanging before the fire on spits of green wood, and yielding their luscious fat drop by drop onthe embers, and to go and fill their drinking-cups at a little barrel of brandy placed on Catherine Lefévre's cart.
About eight o'clock in the morning, a man suddenly made his appearance between the Great and Little Donon; the sentinels immediately observed him; he descended the pathway, waving his hat. In a few minutes they recognised Nickel Bentz, the old forest ranger of the Houpe.
The whole camp was astir; some one ran to inform Hullin, who had been sleeping for an hour in the homestead on a large mattrass, side by side with Doctor Lorquin and his dog Pluto.
They all three came out, accompanied by the old shepherd, Lagarmitte, whom they had named the trumpeter, and the Anabaptist Pelsly, a grave and sedate man, his arms plunged to the elbows in his tunic of hodden grey with brass hooks, a broad fringe of beard encircling his massive jaws, and the tassel of his cotton cap hanging halfway down his back.
Jean-Claude appeared delighted. "Well, Nickel, what's going on down below there?" he exclaimed.
"So far nothing new Master Jean-Claude; only on the Phalsbourg side there is a rumbling like a storm. Labarbe says it is cannon, for all night long flashes like lightning were seen passing over the forest of Hilde-house, and since this morning grey clouds have hung over the plain."
"The town is attacked," said Hullin; "but what news from Lutzelstein?"
"Nothing," replied Bentz.
"Then that is because the enemy will attempt to turn the place. In any case, the Allies are in the neighbourhood. There must be a terrible number of them in Alsace."
Then turning towards Materne, who was standing behind, "We cannot remain any longer in uncertainty," said he; "you must depart with your two sons to reconnoitre."
The old huntsman's countenance brightened.
"All right! I shall be able then to stretch my legs a little," said he, "and try to bring down one of those Cossacks."
"One moment, old boy. You have nothing to do with bringing down anyone; all you have to do is to keep a look-out and see what is going on. Frantz and Kasper can remain armed; but for you, I know you, and you must leave your carbine here, as well as your powder-flask and hunting-knife."
"What for?"
"Why, because you will have to go into the villages, and if you were taken armed, you would be shot on the spot."
"Shot?"
"Not a doubt of it. We are not regular troops; they do not take us prisoners, they shoot us. So you will proceed on your way to Schirmeck, with a stick in your hand, and your sons will accompany you and keep at a distance under shelter of the hedges, and within gun-shot. If any marauders attack you, they will come to your assistance, but if it is a column or a squadron, they will let you be taken."
"They will let me be taken!" indignantly exclaimed the old huntsman; "I should like to see that."
"Yes, Materne; and it will be the best way, for anunarmed man they will let go; an armed man they will shoot."
"Ah! I see, I see. Yes, yes, that's not a bad thought; I never thought to part from my carbine, Jean-Claude, but in war time we must obey orders; there, there is my gun, and my flask, and my knife. Who will lend me his blouse and stick?"
Nickel Bentz handed him his blue smock-frock and felt hat.
When they had changed clothes, any one might have taken the old huntsman, in spite of his thick, gray moustaches, for a simple peasant of the mountains.
His two boys, quite proud of belonging to this first expedition, examined the priming of their carbines, each with its bayonet used for hunting the wild boar straight and long as a sword. They felt the edge of their hunting-knives, threw their game-bags across their shoulders, and assured themselves that everything was in good order, casting flashing looks around them.
"Ha, ha!" said Doctor Lorquin, with a smile, "don't forget the advice of Master Jean-Claude. Prudence! A German more or less among a hundred thousand would not make much difference, whilst if either of you came back to us out of marching order, we should find it difficult to replace you."
"Oh! fear nothing, doctor; we shall keep our eyes open."
"My boys," replied Materne, formally, "are true hunters: they know how to wait, and take advantage of the right moment. They will not fire unless I call."
"Good luck to you!" shouted Hullin after them, as they ascended the snowy sides of the mountain, to avoidthe felled trees. After a quarter of an hour's walking, they turned round by the fir forest, and were out of sight.
Then Hullin quietly returned to the farm, talking as he went with Nickel Bentz.
Doctor Lorquin walked behind, closely followed by Pluto, and all the others went back to their places around the camp-fires.
illustration
CHAPTER XIII.
Materne and his two sons walked on for a long time in silence; the weather had set in fine; the pale wintry sun shone on the dazzlingly white snow without melting it. The ground still remained firm and hard. At a distance, in the valley, were outlined, with surprising clearness, the branches of the fir trees, the reddish peaks of the rocks, the roofs of the cottages, with the icicles hanging from the eaves, their little glittering window-panes, and their pointed gables.
People were walking in the street of Grandfontaine; a group of young girls were standing round the fountain, and some old men in cotton night-caps were smoking their pipes at the doors of their cottages. All this miniature world beneath the blue vault of heaven went and came and lived without a breath or a sigh reaching the ears of the foresters.
The old huntsman halted at the outskirts of the wood, and said to his sons:—"I shall go down into the village, and see Dubreuil, who keeps the 'Fir Apple.'"
He pointed with his stick to a long white building, the windows and doors surrounded by a yellow border, and a branch of pine suspended from the wall by way of a sign.
"You will await me here; if there is no danger Iwill come out on the door-step, and raise my hat; you can then come and take a glass of wine with me."
He immediately descended the snow-covered mountain side, which took him full ten minutes, then made his way between two furrows, reached the meadow, crossed the village square; and his two sons, gun in hand, saw him enter the inn. A few moments after, he re-appeared at the door, and raised his hat, to their great delight.
In another quarter of an hour, they had rejoined their father in the large keeping-room of the "Fir Apple," a low apartment, heated by a large copper furnace, with a sanded floor, and long deal tables running down the centre of it.
When Materne entered, there was no one there but the innkeeper, Dubreuil, the fattest and most apoplectic of the publicans of the Vosges, with a big belly, round, goggle eyes, flat nose, a wart on his right cheek, and his triple chin falling in folds over his turned-down collar. With the exception of this curious personage, sitting in a large leathern arm-chair near the furnace, Materne was alone. He had just filled the glasses, the old clock was striking nine, and its wooden cock was flapping its wing with a curious, creaking sound.
"Your health, Father Dubreuil," said the two lads in a rough voice.
"Good day, brave boys, good day!" replied the innkeeper, forcing a smile. Then, in an oily voice, he demanded, "Is there nothing new?"
"Truly, no," replied Jasper; "this is winter, the time for hunting the wild boar."
Then, both of them depositing their carbines in the angle of the window, within reach in case of a surprise,passed a leg across the bench, and seated themselves opposite their father, who was at the upper end of the table. At the same time they drank, saying, "To our health!" which they were always careful to do.
"So, then," said Materne, turning towards the fat man, as if to resume the course of an interrupted conversation, "you think, Father Dubreuil, that we shall have nothing to fear in the Baronies, and that we may quietly continue to hunt the wild boar?"
"Ah! as to that, I can't say anything," exclaimed the innkeeper; "only at present the Allies have not yet passed Mutzig. And, besides, they are doing no harm to any one; they receive every one kindly, and with good will, who will take up arms against the Usurper."
"The Usurper! and who is he?"
"Who? Why, Napoleon Bonaparte is the Usurper, to be sure. Just cast your eyes on that wall opposite."
He pointed to a large paper placard, posted on the wall, close to the clock.
"Look at that, and you will see that the Austrians are our true friends."
Old Materne frowned till his eyebrows met; but immediately repressing any outward sign of emotion, he merely said, "Ah, bah!"
"Yes, just read that."
"But I do not know how to read, M. Dubreuil, nor my boys either. Just explain the thing to us yourself."
Then the old innkeeper, leaning his two great red hands on the arms of his chair, rose, panting and puffing like an ox, and placed himself before the placard, with his arms akimbo, while, with a pompous tone, he read a proclamation from the Allied Sovereigns,declaring that they were making war against Napoleon personally, and not against France; in consequence of which every one was to remain quiet, and not to interfere in the matter, under pain of being burnt, pillaged, and shot.
The three hunters heard all this, and regarded each other with a strange look.
When Dubreuil had finished, he went back to his seat, and said, "You see now!"
"And where did you get that from?" asked Kasper.
"Why, my lad, it's posted up everywhere."
"Well, we are glad of it," said Materne, laying his hand on the arm of Frantz, who was rising, with flashing eyes. "You want a light, Frantz? Here is my match-box."
Frantz sat down again, and the old man placidly resumed—"So our good friends, the Germans, will not harm anyone?"
"All peaceable persons have nothing to fear; but those miscreants who rise in rebellion will have everything taken from them, which is but just, for it is not right that the good should suffer for the wicked. You yourselves, for instance, instead of harm being done to you, you would be received with welcome in the service of the allied armies. You know the country; you would be useful as guides, and you would be liberally paid."
There was a moment's silence; the three huntsmen looked at each other again; the father had spread his hands upon the table, quite wide open, as if to urge his sons to be calm. Yet he himself had turned very pale.
The innkeeper, who saw nothing of all this, continued—"You would, indeed, have much more to fearin the woods of the Baronies from those robbers of Dagsburg, La Sarre, and the Blanru, who have risen in revolt, and would like to renew the struggle of '93."
"Are you quite sure of that?" asked Materne, making a violent effort over himself.
"Am I sure of it? You need only look out of the window to answer that question; you will see them on the road from the Donon. They have surprised the Anabaptist, Pelsly; they have bound him to the foot of his bed; they are pillaging, stealing, pulling up the roads; but let them beware. A few days hence they will see some strange things. It is not with thousands of men that they will be attacked, but with tens of thousands, withmillionsof thousands. They will be all hanged!"
Materne rose. "It is time to be thinking of returning," said he, in a short, dry tone. "By two o'clock we must be back in the woods, where we can chatter away like magpies. Good day to you, Father Dubreuil."
They went out hastily, no longer able to restrain themselves for rage.
"Reflect well on what I have said to you," the innkeeper called out after them from his great arm-chair.
Once outside, Materne said, while his lips trembled with fury—"If I had not left that man, I should have broken the bottle about his head."
"And I," said Frantz, "could hardly help running my bayonet into his fat paunch."
Kasper, with one foot on the step, seemed longing to return. As he clutched the handle of his hunting-knife, his countenance wore a terrible expression. Butthe old man took him by the arm, and drew him away, saying:
"Come away; we shall find another time to repay him for all this. Advise me—me—Materne—to betray my country! Hullin did well to tell us to be on our guard: he was right."
They then descended the street, casting such angry looks to the right and left as they passed, that people said inquiringly to each other—"Why, what can be the matter with them?"
As they reached the end of the village, opposite the Old Cross, quite close to the Church, they stopped, and Materne, in a calmer tone, showing them the path that winds round by Phramond, through the woods, said to his sons:
"You take that road. For my part, I shall follow this as far as Schirmeck. I shall not go too quickly, to allow you time to come up with me."
They separated, and the old huntsman in a pensive mood, and with head bowed down, walked on for a long time, asking himself by what inward power he had been able to prevent himself from breaking the head of the fat innkeeper. He answered that it was, no doubt, from the fear of compromising his sons. All the while musing on these things, Materne met, from time to time, flocks of oxen, sheep, and goats that were being driven into the mountains. There were some coming from Wisch, from Urmatt, and even from Mutzig. The poor beasts seemed ready to drop with fatigue.
"Where the deuce are you going in such a hurry?" cried the old huntsman to the dismal-looking shepherds; "have you no confidence, then, in the proclamation of the Russians and Austrians, you fellows?"
To which these gloomily replied, "Ah! it's all very well for you to laugh. Proclamations, indeed! We know what they are worth now. We are pillaged of all, robbed of everything; forced contributions are got out of us, and our horses, cows, oxen, and even our vehicles carried off."
"Stop! stop! stop! it can't be. What you tell me," said Materne, "quite bewilders me! What, people so brave, so friendly, the saviours of France! I can't believe it. Such a handsome proclamation."
"Well, then, come down to Alsace, and you will see. Seeing's believing, they say."
The poor fellows went on their way, shaking their heads with an air of profound indignation, while he laughed in his sleeve.
The farther Materne continued his route, the greater grew the number of the flocks of cattle; not only were there troops of these, lowing and bleating, but flocks of geese were to be seen as far as the eye could reach, screaming and cackling, dragging themselves along the ground, with flapping wings, and feet half-frozen with the cold. It was a pitiable sight!
As he drew near to Schirmeck, it was much worse still; people were flying in crowds, with their large vehicles loaded with barrels, smoked meats, furniture, women, and children, lashing the horses enough to kill them on the spot, as they kept repeating, in doleful tones: "We are lost! the Cossacks are coming!"
This cry, "The Cossacks! the Cossacks!" flew from one end of the road to the other like a whirlwind; women turned round, gaping-mouthed, with fear and wonder, and children stood upright in the carts and vehicles to see as far off as they could. Never wasanything seen like it; and Materne felt indignant, and blushed for the terror of these people, who might have defended themselves, but for their selfishness and desire to save their property, which drove them to an unworthy flight.
At a branch of the road just by Schirmeck, Kasper and Frantz rejoined their father; and they all three entered the "Golden Keg" tavern, kept by the widow Faltaux, to the right of the road.
The poor woman and her two daughters were watching from a window the great migration, with tearful eyes and clasped hands.
In truth, the tumult increased from second to second. The cattle, the carriages, and the people, seemed to want to pass out over each other's backs; they seemed to have gone out of their minds, and were shouting, and even striking at each other in their mad desire to escape.
Materne pushed open the door, and, seeing the women more dead than alive, pale and dishevelled, he exclaimed, striking his stick on the ground—"What! Mother Faltaux! are you, too, out of your senses? What! you, who ought to set a good example to your daughters, have you lost all presence of mind; it's too bad!"
Then the old woman, turning round, replied, in a doleful voice—"Ah, my poor Materne! if you did but know—if you did but know!"
"Well, what? the enemy is here; he will not eat you."
"No, but they are swallowing up everything without mercy. Old Ursule, of Schlestadt, who arrived here yesterday evening, says that the Austrians will havenothing butknoépfeandnoudels, the Russiansschnaps, and the Bavarianssour-krout. And when they've stuffed themselves with all that up to their very throats, they keep still calling out, with their mouths full: 'schokolate! schokolate!' My God! my God! how shall we feed all these people?"
"I well know that it is very difficult," replied the old huntsman. "You can never give a jackdaw enough cheese; but, in the first place, where are these Cossacks, these Bavarians, and these Austrians? All the way from Grandfontaine we have not met a single one."
"They are in Alsace, round about Urmatt, and they are coming here."
"Well, in the meanwhile," said Kasper, "be so obliging as to serve us with a jug of wine; here is a crown piece; you can hide it easier than your barrels."
One of the girls went down into the cellar, and just at that moment several other people came in—an almanack-seller from the Strasbourg side, a waggoner in his smock-frock from Sarrebrück, and two or three of the inhabitants of Mutzig, of Hirsch, and of Schirmeck, who were escaping with their flocks and herds, and had hardly strength left to speak.
They all seated themselves at the same table, facing the window which commanded a view of the road; wine was brought them, and each one began to relate all that he knew. One said that the Allies were so numerous that they were obliged at night time to lie down to rest side by side in the valley of Hirschenthal, and so full of vermin, that after their departure the dead leaves walked about all alone in the woods. Another, that the Cossacks had set fire to a village in Alsace, because theyhad been refused candles for dessert after their dinner; that certain of them, especially the Calmucks, ate soap like cheese, and bacon-rind like cake; that a great number drank brandy by the pint, after having taken care to put handfuls of pepper in it; that you must hide everything from them, for they found everything that came in their way good to eat and drink. On this, the waggoner related how that, three days since, a division of the Russian army having passed in the night under the cannon of Bitsch, it had been obliged to station itself for more than an hour on the ice in the little village of Rorbach; and that this whole division had drunk out of a warming-pan which had been left out by mistake on the window-sill of an old woman of eighty; that this race of savages broke the ice to bathe, and then went into brick ovens to dry themselves; in short, that they were afraid of nothing but corporalschlague!