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"He had only time to cry, 'To arms! We are hemmed in! Jerome sends me. Labarbe is dead! The Germans have pa.s.sed the Blutfeld!'"
"He was a gallant fellow," exclaimed Catherine.
"Yes, a gallant fellow," replied Frantz, with his head bent down.
Then they relapsed into silence, and for some time the sledge swept through the winding valley. Now and then they were obliged to stop, the snow was so deep--when three or four mountaineers would take the horse by the bridle--and so they continued their way.
"All the same," said Catherine, suddenly rousing up from her reverie, "Hullin might have told me."
"But if he had mentioned these two attacks," interrupted the doctor, "you would have wanted to remain."
"And who can hinder me from doing what I like? If it pleased me to get out of the sledge this very moment, should I not be free? I had forgiven Jean-Claude, but I am sorry for it!"
"Oh, Maman Lefevre, supposing he is killed while you are saying that!"
murmured Louise.
"She is right, poor child," thought Catherine; and then quickly added, "I said I was sorry for it; but he is such a good man, that one cannot be angry with him. I forgive him with all my heart; in his place I should have done the same."
Two or three hundred yards farther on they entered the defile of Roches. The snow had ceased falling, and the moon was s.h.i.+ning between great white clouds. The narrow gorge, hemmed in by steep precipices, expanded in the distance, its sides covered with tall pines. Nothing disturbed the deep calm of the woods; one could have imagined one's self far away from all human agitation. The silence was so great that every step the horse made in the snow could be heard, and even his sharp quick breathing. Frantz Materne halted at times to gaze upon the black slopes, and then hurried on to overtake the others.
They crossed valley after valley; the sledge mounted and descended, now to the right and then to the left; and the partisans, with their bayonets fixed, followed continually.
Toward three in the morning they reached the meadow of Brimbelles, where at the present day an old oak can still be seen bending over the valley. To the left, in the midst of the snow-covered, heather, behind a low stone wall, stood the old house of the guard Cuny. Three beehives were placed on a bench, a gnarled vine hung down from the roof and a small pine-bough was suspended over the door by way of sign-board, for Cuny carried on the business of innkeeper in this solitary place.
At this spot the road runs close under the meadow wall, and as a large cloud obscured the light of the moon, the doctor, fearing to be upset, halted beneath the oak.
"We have only one hour's journey more, Mother Lefevre," said he; "take courage; there is no hurry."
"Yes," said Frantz; "the heaviest part of the road is over, and the horse may breath a while."
The small party collected round the sledge, and the doctor got down.
Some lit their pipes; but no one spoke: they were all busy thinking of the Donon. What was going on there? Would Jean-Claude be able to defend the plateau till Piorette arrived? So many dread thoughts and dismal reflections pa.s.sed through the minds of the worthy people, that not one seemed able to speak.
They had been standing thus about five minutes, when the black cloud pa.s.sed slowly away, and the pale moonlight lit up the gorge. Suddenly, a dark figure on horseback appeared two hundred paces from them, in the path between the pine-trees. By the light of the moon they quickly perceived that it was the figure of a Cossack with his sheepskin cap, and bearing a lance under his arm. He was advancing slowly; Frantz was already taking aim, when other Cossacks with their lances appeared behind him. They advanced deliberately in the direction of the sledge, like people on the search, some with their heads turned upward, others peering into the shrubs from their saddles. They numbered more than thirty.
Imagine the feelings of Louise and Catherine, seated in the middle of the road. They looked on open-mouthed. In another minute they would be surrounded by these bandits. The mountaineers were stupefied; it was impossible to return: they were hemmed in on one side by the meadow wall, on the other by the mountain-side. The old farm-wife seized Louise by the hand, and said, in a stifled voice, "Let us escape to the woods!"
She sprang from the sledge, leaving her shoe in the straw.
Suddenly one of the Cossacks uttered a guttural cry, which was repeated along the whole line.
"We are discovered!" exclaimed the doctor, as he drew his sword.
The words had scarcely escaped his lips when twelve musket-shots lit up the path from end to end; a regular savage whoop answered the report of the muskets. The Cossacks made off from the path to the meadow in front, gave their horses the reins, bent down in their saddles, and flew toward the guard-house like deer.
"Ha! they are off like the devil!" said the doctor.
But the worthy man was too hasty. Suddenly, when they had gone two or three hundred yards along the valley, the Cossacks again wheeled round and ma.s.sed themselves firmly together; then, with their lances in rest, and bending over their horses' heads, they rushed straight at the partisans, shouting in hoa.r.s.e voices--"Hourah! hourah!"
It was a terrible moment.
Frantz and the others sprang toward the wall, to protect the sledge.
In another second, the clas.h.i.+ng of lances and screams of rage could alone be heard, mingled with imprecations. Under the shadow of the old oak, through the straggling moonbeams, could be seen the horses prancing with tossing manes, as they endeavored to clear the meadow wall; while the barbarian Cossacks, with gleaming eyes and uplifted arms, struck furiously with their lances, advancing, retreating, and uttering piercing yells.
Louise, deathly pale, and Catherine, with her gray dishevelled hair, stood up in the straw.
Doctor Lorquin, in front of them, parried the strokes with his sabre, and all the time kept shouting to them--"Lie down! lie down!" But they did not hear him.
Louise, in the midst of the tumult and shouting, thought only of sheltering Catherine; and the old dame, in the midst of her terror, had recognized Yegof, on a tall, gaunt horse--Yegof, with his tin crown, bristling beard, long lance, and dog-skin floating from his shoulders.
She saw him as distinctly as though it were broad daylight. He stood about ten feet distant, with sparkling eyes, brandis.h.i.+ng his blue lance in the darkness, and striving to reach her. What could she do? Submit to her fate! Thus do the most resolute characters succ.u.mb to inevitable destiny. The old dame thought her fate was sealed. She saw all these people tearing like wolves, thrusting and parrying in the moonlight. She saw some fall; and horses running, riderless through the fields. She saw the topmost window of the guard-house thrown open; and old Cuny, in his s.h.i.+rt-sleeves, shoulder his gun, though not daring to fire into the crowd. All pa.s.sed before her eyes with wonderful clearness. "The madman has returned," she said to herself. "Do what they will, he will hang my head to the side of his saddle. It will end as I saw in my dream."
And, indeed, everything seemed to justify her fears: the mountaineers, inferior in numbers, were giving way. The Cossacks had cleared the wall, and were already on the footpath. A well-aimed thrust pa.s.sed through the old dame's back-hair, and she felt the cold iron against her neck.
"Oh, the murderers!" she screamed, falling back and clutching fast at the reins.
Doctor Lorquin himself had been hurled against the sledge. Frantz and the others, surrounded by twenty Cossacks, could afford them no help.
Louise felt a hand on her shoulder: it was the hand of the madman, seated on his great horse.
At this fearful moment, the poor child, mad with terror, uttered a scream of distress; then she saw something gleaming in the darkness: it was Lorquin's pistols. Quick as lightning, tearing them from the doctor's belt, she fired them off both at once, singeing Yegof's beard, and blowing out the brains of a Cossack who was bending toward her with flaming eyes. She then seized Catherine's whip, and pale as death, lashed the horse, who bounded away. The sledge flew through the bushes, swaying from right to left. Suddenly there was a shock.
Catherine, Louise, the straw, and all rolled in the snow on the slopes of the ravine. The horse stopped short on its haunches, its mouth full of b.l.o.o.d.y foam. It had struck against an oak-tree.
Rapid as was the fall, Louise had seen figures pa.s.sing like the wind behind the underwood. She had heard a powerful voice, that of Dives, crying out, "Forward! Cut them down!"
It was like a vision--one of those confused apparitions which pa.s.s before the eyes in moments of supreme danger; but, on rising, the young girl had no longer any doubts. Fighting was going on only a few paces distant behind the cover of some trees, and the voice of Marc was heard shouting, "Go it, my old fellows! Give them no quarter!"
Then she saw a dozen Cossacks clambering up the hill in front, like hares among the heather; below Yegof was crossing the valley in the moonlight with the speed of a terrified bird on the wing. Several shots were sent after him, but the madman remained unscathed, and, standing upright in his stirrups, with his horse at full gallop, he turned, waving his lance with bravado, and shouting "Hourah!" Two more shots whizzed by from the guard-house; a bit of rag fell from his loins, but the madman continued his course, crying "Hourah!" in a hoa.r.s.e tone, and toiled up the path which his companions had taken before him.
All this pa.s.sed before Louise like a dream.
Then, turning round, she saw Catherine by her side, stupefied and absorbed like herself. They gazed at each other for a moment, and then embraced with an inexpressible feeling of happiness.
"We are saved!" murmured Catherine; and they both wept. "Thou hast behaved bravely. Jean-Claude, Gaspard, and I have good reason to be proud of thee!"
Louise was deeply agitated and trembled all over. The danger being pa.s.sed, her gentle nature again resumed its sway, and she could not understand whence came her courage of a few minutes before.
They were recovering from their fright and about to get into the sledge, when they saw five or six partisans with the doctor coming toward them.
"Ah! you may cry as much as you like, Louise," said Lorquin; "but, for all that, you are a regular dragoon, a real little warrior. Though you now look so gentle, we have all seen you at work. But where are my pistols?"
At that moment the shrubs were pushed aside, and Marc Dives, sword in hand, appeared.
"Ah, Mistress Catherine, these are rough adventures for you. Zounds!
what luck that I happened to come up. Those villains were spoiling you right and left."
"Yes," replied she, pus.h.i.+ng her hair under her cap again; "it was very fortunate."
"Very fortunate! I should think so. It is only ten minutes since I arrived with my wagon at Cuny's. 'Do not go to the Donon,' said he; 'the sky has been red for an hour in that direction; there is certainly fighting going on up there.' 'You think so?' 'Faith! yes.' 'Then Joson must go out and reconnoitre a little and we others will drink a gla.s.s while waiting.' 'Good!' Hardly had Joson left, when I heard shouts as though five hundred devils were let loose. 'What is it, Cuny?' 'I don't know.' We pushed open the door, and saw the fray.
Ha!" exclaimed the big smuggler, "we did not wait long. I jumped on my brave horse Fox, and dashed forward. What luck!"