The Invasion of France in 1814 by Erckmann-Chatrian
CHAPTER XX
THE SURPRISE
Toward ten o'clock, Catherine Lefevre and Louise, after having wishedHullin good-night, went up to sleep in the room over the large kitchen;in which there were two feather-beds, with curtains, striped with blueand red, reaching to the ceiling.
"Come," exclaimed the old woman, climbing up to hers on a chair--"come,sleep well, my child. As for me, I am tired out, and almost asleepalready."
She drew the bedclothes round her, and five minutes after was soundasleep. Louise soon followed her example.
Now this had lasted about two hours, when the old dame was awakenedsuddenly by a tremendous noise.
"To arms! to arms! Ho! this way quick! A thousand thunders! they areupon us!"
Five or six shots then followed each other, lighting up the darkwindows.
"To arms! to arms!"
Then there was more firing, and the noise of people rushing abouteverywhere.
Hullin's voice, sharp and vibrating, could be heard giving orders.
Then, to the left of the farm, a great way off, there came a low dullcrackling sound, from the gorges of the Grosmann.
"Louise! Louise!" cried the old farm-wife,--"dost thou hear?"
"Yes! Oh, my God! it is terrible."
Catherine sprang out of bed.
"Get up, my child," said she, "and let us dress."
The firing redoubled, and flashed like lightning upon the panes.
"Attention!" shouted Materne.
One could also hear the neighing of a horse outside, and the trampingof a great crowd in the alley, the yard, and before the farm: the houseseemed shaken to its foundations.
Suddenly, the firing came from the windows of the large room on theground-floor. The two women dressed in haste. Just at that moment, aheavy foot creaked on the stairs; the door opened, and Hullin appearedwith a lantern, showing signs of great agitation.
"Make haste!" cried he; "we have not an instant to lose."
"What has happened then?" asked Catherine.
The fusillade came nearer.
"Eh!" exclaimed Jean-Claude, throwing up his arms, "have I time now toexplain to you?"
The old dame understood that the only thing to be done was to obey.She put on her hood and descended the staircase with Louise. By theflickering light of the shots, Catherine saw Materne, bare-necked, andhis son Kasper, firing from the entrance of the alley upon the abatis,and ten others behind handing them muskets, so that they had only toaim and fire. All these men, in a throng, loading, shouldering, andfiring, had a terrible aspect. Three or four dead bodies lying againstthe old wall added to the horror of the scene. The smoke was at thepoint of reaching the dwelling.
Coming down the stairs, Hullin cried, "Here they are, thank heaven!"And all the brave fellows who were there, looking up, cried out,"Courage, Mother Lefevre!"
Whereupon the poor old lady, worn out by her emotions, began to weepand lean on Jean-Claude's shoulder; but he lifted her up like afeather, and ran along by the wall to the right. Louise followed,sobbing loudly.
Out of doors, one could only hear the whizzing of bullets and the dullheavy blows against the wall; the bricks and mortar were tumbling down,the tiles rolling about; while in front, near the abatis, and threehundred yards off, one could see the white uniforms in line, lit up bytheir own fire in the dark night; and, to their left, on the other sideof the ravine of Minieres, the mountaineers attacking them in flank.
Hullin disappeared at the corner of the farm,--where all was indarkness;--Doctor Lorquin, on horseback in front of a sledge, having alarge cavalry sword in his hand and two pistols passed through hisbelt, with Frantz Materne and a dozen other armed men, being barelydistinguishable. Hullin placed Catherine in the sledge, on some straw,and Louise by her side.
"There you are!" exclaimed the doctor. "It is well for you."
And Frantz Materne added:--"If it were not for you, Mother Lefevre, youmay well believe that not one of us would quit the plateau this night;but there is nothing to be said since you are in the case."
"No," cried the others, "there is nothing to be said!"
Just at that moment, a tall fellow, with legs long as a heron's and around back, came running behind the wall and shouting, "They arecoming! Fly! fly!"
Hullin turned pale.
"It is the big knife-grinder of the Harberg!" he exclaimed, grindinghis teeth.
Frantz without saying a word put his musket to his shoulder, aimed andfired; and Louise saw the grinder at thirty yards in the dim light,throw up his arms and fall face downward on the ground. Frantzreloaded, smiling grimly.
Hullin then said: "Comrades, here is our mother--she who has given uspowder and furnished us with food for the defence of our country; andhere is my child: save them!"
They all replied: "We will save, or die with, them."
"And do not forget to warn Dives to stay at the Falkenstein tillfurther orders."
"All right, Jean-Claude."
"Then forward, doctor, forward!" cried the gallant man.
"And you, Hullin?" exclaimed Catherine.
"My place is here; our position must be defended till death!"
"Papa Jean-Claude!" cried Louise, holding out her arms to him.
But he had already turned the corner,--the doctor flicked his horse,and the sledge passed quickly along the snow. Frantz Materne and hismen, with their muskets on their shoulders, marched behind; while arolling fire of musketry was still kept up around the farm.
That was what Catherine Lefevre and Louise saw in the space of a fewminutes. No doubt something strange and terrible had happened in thenight. The old farm-mistress, recalling her dream, became verythoughtful. Louise dried her eyes and looked toward the plateau, whichwas lighted up as by a fire. The horse bounded away under the doctor'swhip, so that the mountaineers could hardly keep up. For some distancethe tumult and clamor of the battle, the explosions, and whizzing ofthe balls among the branches, were distinctly heard; but all this grewfainter and fainter, and soon, at the descent of the path, vanished asin a dream.
The sledge had reached the opposite side of the mountain, and wasflying like an arrow through the darkness. The only sounds which brokethe silence were the galloping of the horse, the quick breathing of theescort, and from time to time the doctor's cry, "Here, Bruno! herethen!"
A current of cold wind, coming up from the valley of the Sarre, carriedupon its breeze, like a great sigh, the endless roar of the torrentsand soughing of the woods. The moon was peering out from behind acloud, and looking down on the black forests of Blanru, with their tallpines loaded with snow.
Ten minutes later the sledge had gained an angle of the woods, andDoctor Lorquin, turning round in his saddle, exclaimed,--"Now, Frantz,what have we to do? Here is the way which leads toward the hills ofSt. Quirin, and there is another road which descends to Blanru. Whichshall we take?"
Frantz and the men of the escort came up. As they were then on thewestern slope of the Donon, they began to see again, high in the air,on the other side of the hill, the fusillade of the Germans, who wereadvancing by way of the Grosmann. First they saw the flashes, and thenheard the rolling echoes in the depths of the valleys.
"The road by the hills of St. Quirin," said Frantz, "is the shortestcut to the farm of Bois-de-Chenes; it would save at leastthree-quarters of an hour."
"Yes," rejoined the doctor, "but we should risk being stopped by theGermans, who now occupy the defile of the Sarre. See, they are alreadymasters of the heights; they have no doubt sent detachments to theSarre-Rouge in order to turn the Donon."
"Let us take the Blanru road, then," said Frantz; "it is longer, butsafer."
The sledge passed down the left along the woods. The partisans, gun inhand, advanced one after the other along the top of the bank, while thedoctor on his horse swept along the snow in the roadway. Above, thegreat pine-branches met across the road, and enveloped it with theirdeep shadows, while the moon lit up the surrounding scenery. Th
"Up, Bruno," cried the doctor.
Then he gravely answered her: "This night, Dame Catherine, a greatmisfortune has overtaken us. You must not attribute it to Jean-Claude:it is by another's fault that we have lost the fruit of all oursacrifices!"
"Through whose fault?"
"That unlucky Labarbe's, who did not guard the defile of the Blutfeld.He died afterward fulfilling his duty; but that does not repair thedisaster; and if Piorette does not come up in time to aid Hullin, allis lost; it will be necessary to abandon the road and to fightretreating."
"What! the Blutfeld is taken?"
"Yes, Mistress Catherine. Who the deuce could ever have thought thatthe Germans would enter that? A defile almost impracticable forfoot-passengers, enclosed by rugged rocks, where the goatherds canbarely descend with their flocks. Well, they marched that way, two ata time; they turned Roche-Creuse, crushed Labarbe, and then fell uponJerome, who defended himself like a lion till nine in the evening; but,at last, he was obliged to take refuge in the pine-woods, and leave thepass to the 'kaiserlichs.' That is the whole story. It is shocking.Indeed, there must be some one among us base and vile enough to haveguided the enemy, and would deliver us over to him bound hands andfeet. Oh, the wretch!" cried Lorquin, furiously. "I am notrevengeful, but if he came into my clutches, how I would serve him!Up, Bruno! up, then!"
The partisans were marching along the bank like spectres, withoutsaying a word.
The old farm-mistress became silent in order to collect her ideas.
"I begin to understand," said she at last. "We were attacked to-nighton both sides."
"Exactly so, Catherine. Fortunately, ten minutes before the attack,one of Marc Dives's smugglers, Zimmer, the old dragoon, had come fullgallop to warn us. Had it not been for that, we would have been lost.He fell in with our vanguard, after having run the gauntlet of adetachment of Cossacks on the plateau of Grosmann. The poor fellow hadreceived a terrible sabre-thrust; and his bowels were protruding overthe saddle--was it not so, Frantz?"
"Yes," replied the hunter, sadly.
"And what did he say?" demanded Catherine.
"He had only time to cry, 'To arms! We are hemmed in! Jerome sendsme. Labarbe is dead! The Germans have passed 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 sweptthrough the winding valley. Now and then they were obliged to stop,the snow was so deep--when three or four mountaineers would take thehorse 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 getout of the sledge this very moment, should I not be free? I hadforgiven 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 cannotbe angry with him. I forgive him with all my heart; in his place Ishould have done the same."
Two or three hundred yards farther on they entered the defile ofRoches. The snow had ceased falling, and the moon was shining betweengreat white clouds. The narrow gorge, hemmed in by steep precipices,expanded in the distance, its sides covered with tall pines. Nothingdisturbed the deep calm of the woods; one could have imagined one'sself far away from all human agitation. The silence was so great thatevery step the horse made in the snow could be heard, and even hissharp quick breathing. Frantz Materne halted at times to gaze upon theblack slopes, and then hurried on to overtake the others.
They crossed valley after valley; the sledge mounted and descended, nowto the right and then to the left; and the partisans, with theirbayonets 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 thevalley. To the left, in the midst of the snow-covered, heather, behinda low stone wall, stood the old house of the guard Cuny. Threebeehives were placed on a bench, a gnarled vine hung down from the roofand a small pine-bough was suspended over the door by way ofsign-board, for Cuny carried on the business of innkeeper in thissolitary place.
At this spot the road runs close under the meadow wall, and as a largecloud 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; "takecourage; there is no hurry."
"Yes," said Frantz; "the heaviest part of the road is over, and thehorse 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 ofthe Donon. What was going on there? Would Jean-Claude be able todefend the plateau till Piorette arrived? So many dread thoughts anddismal reflections passed through the minds of the worthy people, thatnot one seemed able to speak.
They had been standing thus about five minutes, when the black cloudpassed slowly away, and the pale moonlight lit up the gorge. Suddenly,a dark figure on horseback appeared two hundred paces from them, in thepath between the pine-trees. By the light of the moon they quicklyperceived that it was the figure of a Cossack with his sheepskin cap,and bearing a lance under his arm. He was advancing slowly; Frantz wasalready taking aim, when other Cossacks with their lances appearedbehind him. They advanced deliberately in the direction of the sledge,like people on the search, some with their heads turned upward, otherspeering into the shrubs from their saddles. They numbered more thanthirty.
Imagine the feelings of Louise and Catherine, seated in the middle ofthe road. They looked on open-mouthed. In another minute they wouldbe surrounded by these bandits. The mountaineers were stupefied; itwas impossible to return: they were hemmed in on one side by the meadowwall, on the other by the mountain-side. The old farm-wife seizedLouise by the hand, and said, in a stifled voice, "Let us escape to thewoods!"
She sprang from the sledge, leaving her shoe in the straw.
Suddenly one of the Cossacks uttered a guttural cry, which was repeatedalong 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 upthe path from end to end; a regular savage whoop answered the report ofthe muskets. The Cossacks made off from the path to the meadow infront, gave their horses the reins, bent down in their saddles, andflew 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 orthree hundred yards along the valley, the Cossacks again wheeled roundand massed themselves firmly together; then, with their lances in rest,and bending over their horses' heads, they rushed straight at thepartisans, shouting in hoarse voices--"Hourah! hourah!"
It was a terrible moment.
Frantz and the other
In another second, the clashing of lances and screams of rage couldalone be heard, mingled with imprecations. Under the shadow of the oldoak, through the straggling moonbeams, could be seen the horsesprancing with tossing manes, as they endeavored to clear the meadowwall; while the barbarian Cossacks, with gleaming eyes and upliftedarms, struck furiously with their lances, advancing, retreating, anduttering 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 theydid not hear him.
Louise, in the midst of the tumult and shouting, thought only ofsheltering Catherine; and the old dame, in the midst of her terror, hadrecognized 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 stoodabout ten feet distant, with sparkling eyes, brandishing his blue lancein the darkness, and striving to reach her. What could she do? Submitto her fate! Thus do the most resolute characters succumb toinevitable destiny. The old dame thought her fate was sealed. She sawall these people tearing like wolves, thrusting and parrying in themoonlight. She saw some fall; and horses running, riderless throughthe fields. She saw the topmost window of the guard-house thrown open;and old Cuny, in his shirt-sleeves, shoulder his gun, though not daringto fire into the crowd. All passed before her eyes with wonderfulclearness. "The madman has returned," she said to herself. "Do whatthey will, he will hang my head to the side of his saddle. It will endas 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 thewall, and were already on the footpath. A well-aimed thrust passedthrough the old dame's back-hair, and she felt the cold iron againsther neck.
"Oh, the murderers!" she screamed, falling back and clutching fast atthe reins.
Doctor Lorquin himself had been hurled against the sledge. Frantz andthe 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 ascream of distress; then she saw something gleaming in the darkness: itwas Lorquin's pistols. Quick as lightning, tearing them from thedoctor'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 withflaming eyes. She then seized Catherine's whip, and pale as death,lashed the horse, who bounded away. The sledge flew through thebushes, swaying from right to left. Suddenly there was a shock.Catherine, Louise, the straw, and all rolled in the snow on the slopesof the ravine. The horse stopped short on its haunches, its mouth fullof bloody foam. It had struck against an oak-tree.
Rapid as was the fall, Louise had seen figures passing like the windbehind 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 passbefore the eyes in moments of supreme danger; but, on rising, the younggirl had no longer any doubts. Fighting was going on only a few pacesdistant behind the cover of some trees, and the voice of Marc was heardshouting, "Go it, my old fellows! Give them no quarter!"
Then she saw a dozen Cossacks clambering up the hill in front, likehares among the heather; below Yegof was crossing the valley in themoonlight with the speed of a terrified bird on the wing. Severalshots were sent after him, but the madman remained unscathed, and,standing upright in his stirrups, with his horse at full gallop, heturned, waving his lance with bravado, and shouting "Hourah!" Two moreshots whizzed by from the guard-house; a bit of rag fell from hisloins, but the madman continued his course, crying "Hourah!" in ahoarse tone, and toiled up the path which his companions had takenbefore him.
All this passed before Louise like a dream.
Then, turning round, she saw Catherine by her side, stupefied andabsorbed like herself. They gazed at each other for a moment, and thenembraced with an inexpressible feeling of happiness.
"We are saved!" murmured Catherine; and they both wept. "Thou hastbehaved bravely. Jean-Claude, Gaspard, and I have good reason to beproud of thee!"
Louise was deeply agitated and trembled all over. The danger beingpassed, her gentle nature again resumed its sway, and she could notunderstand whence came her courage of a few minutes before.
They were recovering from their fright and about to get into thesledge, when they saw five or six partisans with the doctor comingtoward them.
"Ah! you may cry as much as you like, Louise," said Lorquin; "but, forall that, you are a regular dragoon, a real little warrior. Though younow look so gentle, we have all seen you at work. But where are mypistols?"
At that moment the shrubs were pushed aside, and Marc Dives, sword inhand, appeared.
"Ah, Mistress Catherine, these are rough adventures for you. Zounds!what luck that I happened to come up. Those villains were spoiling youright and left."
"Yes," replied she, pushing her hair under her cap again; "it was veryfortunate."
"Very fortunate! I should think so. It is only ten minutes since Iarrived 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 certainlyfighting going on up there.' 'You think so?' 'Faith! yes.' 'ThenJoson must go out and reconnoitre a little and we others will drink aglass while waiting.' 'Good!' Hardly had Joson left, when I heardshouts 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 mybrave horse Fox, and dashed forward. What luck!"
"Ah!" said Catherine, "if we were only sure that our affairs go as wellon the Donon, we might then rejoice."
"Yes, yes! Frantz told me about that:--it is the devil--there mustalways be something wrong," replied Marc. "But--but why stay here withour feet in the snow? Let us hope that Piorette will not allow hiscomrades to be crushed, and let us go and empty our glasses, which weleft half full."
Four other smugglers then arrived, saying that that rascally Yegofwould probably come back, with some more brigands like himself.
"Very likely," replied Dives. "We will return to the Falkenstein,since it is Jean-Claude's orders; but we can't bring our wagon with us:it would prevent our taking the short cuts; and in an hour all thesebandits would be down upon us. Let us go first to Cuny's. Catherineand Louise will not be sorry to drink a little wine; and the otherstoo. It will put their hearts in the right place again. Up, Bruno!"
He led his horse by the bridle. Two wounded men had been laid in thesledge; two others having been killed, as well as seven or eightCossacks stretched with their boots wide apart in the snow, wereabandoned, and they went on toward the forester's house.
Frantz was consoling himself for not having been on the Donon: he hadfinished two Cossacks, and the sight of the inn made him feel in a goodhumor. Before the door stood the small wagon full of cartridges. Cunycame out, saying: "A hearty welcome, Mistress Lefevre. What a nightfor women! Be seated! What is going on up there?"
While they were hastily drinking some wine, everything had to beexplained over again. The worthy old man in a blouse and greenbreeches, with his wrinkled face, bald head, and wide-open eyes,listened with clasped hands, exclaiming: "Good God! Good God! in whattimes are we living? One can no longer follow the high-roads withoutrisk of being attacked. It is worse than the old Swedish tales." Andhe shook his head.
"Come," said Dives, "time flies. We must continue our way."
Everybody being ready, the smugglers led the wagon, which containedsome thousands of cartridges and two small kegs of brandy, about threehundred yards off, to the middle of the valley, and then unhar
"Go forward!" shouted Marc; "we will rejoin you in a few minutes."
"But what art thou going to do with the cart?" said Frantz. "Since wehave no time to take it to the Falkenstein, it had better be left underCuny's shed than in the road."
"Yes, to get the poor old man hanged, when the Cossacks arrive, forthey will be here in less than an hour. Do not trouble thyself; I havemy own idea."
Frantz rejoined the sledge, which went on its way. In a short timethey passed by the saw-works of the Marquis and turned sharp to theright, to reach the farm of Bois-de-Chenes, whose tall chimneys couldbe perceived three-quarters of a league distant on the plateau. Theywere on the hill-side when Marc Dives and his men overtook them,shouting:
"Halt! Stop a bit! Look down there!"
And, looking down into the gorge, they saw the Cossacks capering roundthe wagon--about three hundred of them.
"They are coming! Let us fly!" cried Louise.
"Wait a bit," said the smuggler. "We have nothing to fear."
He was still speaking, when an immense sheet of flame sped out from onemountain to the other, illuminating the woods, rocks, and the littlehouse of the forester fifteen hundred yards below; then there was areport so terrible that the earth seemed to tremble.
While those near him gazed in bewilderment and dumb terror at eachother, Marc's bursts of laughter reached their ears, in spite of thedin.
"Ha, ha, ha!" shouted he, "I was sure the rogues would stop round thewagon, to drink up my brandy. I knew the match would have just time toreach the powder!"
"Do you think they will pursue us?"
"Their arms and legs are now hanging from the branches of thepine-trees! Come along! And may heaven grant the same fate to allthose who have now crossed the Rhine!"
The whole escort, the partisans, the doctor, all had grown silent: somany terrible emotions had filled them with endless thoughts such as donot fall within the experience of every-day life. They said tothemselves: "What are men that they destroy, harass, and ruin eachother in this manner? Why do they hate each other so? And what spiritof evil is it that thus excites them?"
But Dives and his men were not at all troubled by these events: theygalloped along, laughing and boasting.
"For my part," said the big smuggler, "I never saw such a farce before.Ha, ha, ha! if I lived a thousand years, I should laugh at it still."Then he became more serious, and exclaimed: "All the same, Yegof is thecause of this. One must be blind not to see that it was he who led theGermans to the Blutfeld. I shall be sorry if he has been struck downby a piece of my wagon; I have something better in store for him thanthat. All that I wish is that he may keep in good health till we meetsomewhere in a lonely corner of the wood. It is no matter whether itbe in one year, ten years, twenty years, provided only that we meet.The longer it is deferred, the more savage my determination becomes:the daintiest morsels are eaten cold, like a boar's head in white wine."
He said this with an air of good-humor, but those who knew himperceived beneath it a serious danger for Yegof.
Half an hour later, they all reached the plateau on which the farm ofBois-de-Chenes was situated.