CHAPTER XXII
ON THE FALKENSTEIN
At the end of the valley of Bouleaux, two gun-shots from the village of Charmes, to the left, the little troop began slowly to ascend the path to the old "burg." Hullin, remembering how he had taken the same road when he went to buy powder of Marc Divès, could not help feeling very sad. Then, notwithstanding his journey to Phalsbourg, the spectacle of the wounded from Leipzig and Hanau, and the account given by the old sergeant, he did not despair or doubt of the success of the defence. Now all was lost; the enemy were descending into Lorraine, and the mountaineers were retreating. Marc Divès rode by the side of the wall in the snow; his horse, apparently accustomed to this journey, neighed loudly. The smuggler turned from time to time to look back on the plateau of Bois-de-Chênes. Suddenly he exclaimed, "Look! here come the Cossacks!"
They all halted to look. They were already high up on the mountain, above the village and farm of Bois-de-Chênes. The morning mists were giving way to the gray light of the winter's day, and, on the hill-side could be distinguished the forms of several Cossacks, with their heads raised, and pistols pointed, stealthily approaching the old farm-house. They were scattered after the manner of sharpshooters, as if they feared a surprise. A few minutes later more appeared, ascending the valley of Houx, then still more, all in the same attitude, upright in their stirrups, in order to see as far as possible. The first, having passed by the farm and observing nothing threatening, waved their lances and returned half way back. Whereupon the others galloped up at full speed like a flock of crows when they have sighted their prey. In a few minutes the farm was surrounded and the door opened. In another moment the windows were smashed, and the furniture, mattresses, and linen, thrown outside. Catherine calmly looked on at the pillage. She said nothing for some time; but, on seeing Yégof, whom she had not perceived before, strike Duchêne with the butt-end of his lance, and push him out of the farm, she could not restrain a cry of indignation.
"The wretch! Could any one be cowardly enough to strike a poor old man unable to defend himself. Ah! brigand, if I only held thee!"
"Come along, Catherine," said Jean-Claude; "that's enough; what is the use of gazing at such a spectacle any longer?"
"You are right," said the old mistress; "let us go on, or I shall be tempted to go back and revenge myself."
On approaching the red rocks, incrusted with large white and black pebbles, overhanging the precipice like the arches of an immense cathedral, Louise and Catherine stopped in ecstasy. The magnificent view of the streams of Lorraine, and the blue ribbon of the Rhine to their right, with the distant woods and valleys, filled them with joy, and the old dame said piously, "Jean-Claude, He who created these rocks, and formed these valleys, forests, heaths, and mosses, He will render to us the justice we merit."
As they were gazing thus on the rugged precipices, Marc led his horse into a cavern close by, and, returning, began to climb up before them, saying, "Take care, or you may slip!"
At the same time he pointed to the blue precipice on their right, with pine-trees at the bottom. Everybody then relapsed into silence till the terrace was reached, where the arch commenced. There they breathed more freely. In the middle of the passage were the smugglers Brenn, Pfeifer, and Joubac, with their long gray mantles and black hats, sitting round a fire. Marc Divès said to them, "Here we are! The 'kaiserlichs' are masters. Zimmer was killed last night. Is Hexe-Baizel up there?"
"Yes," replied Brenn; "she is making cartridges."
"They may be of use," said Marc. "Keep your eyes open, and if any come up fire on them."
The Maternes halted at the corner of the rock; and these three sturdy men, with their powerful muscular limbs, their hats pushed back, and carbines on their shoulders, offered a curious spectacle in the blue mists of the abyss. Old Materne was pointing with outstretched hand to a small white speck in the distance, almost hidden in the midst of the pines. "Do you recognize that, my boys?" said he; and they all three peered through their half-closed eyes.
"It is our house," replied Kasper.
"Poor Margredel!" rejoined the old hunter, after a short pause; "how uneasy she must have been these last eight days? What prayers does she not offer up for us to Saint-Odile?"
At that moment Marc Divès, who was walking on in front, uttered an exclamation of surprise.
"Mother Lefèvre," said he, stopping short, "the Cossacks are burning your farm."
Catherine received the tidings very calmly, and advanced to the edge of the terrace, Louise and Jean-Claude following. At the bottom of the abyss was a great white cloud, through which could be seen a bright spark, as it were, on the side of Bois-de-Chênes—that was all; but at intervals, when the wind blew strong, the flames shot up, the two high black gables, the hay-loft, the small stables burned brightly, then all disappeared once more.
"It is nearly finished," said Hullin, in a low voice.
"Yes," replied Catherine; "there are the labor and trouble of forty years vanishing in smoke; but they cannot burn my good land, nor the great meadow of Eichmath. We will begin our work over again. Gaspard and Louise will repair it all. I regret nothing I have done."
A quarter of an hour later thousands of sparks arose, and the building crumbled to the ground. The black gables alone remained standing. They continued to ascend the path. As they were ascending the higher terrace, they heard the sharp voice of Hexe-Baizel.
"Is it thou, Catherine?" she cried. "Ah, I never thought thou wouldst have come to see me in my wretched hole."
Baizel and Catherine Lefèvre had been at school together in former days, therefore they used the third person when speaking.
"Nor I neither," replied the old farm-mistress. "All the same, Baizel—one is glad to find in misfortune an old companion of one's childhood."
Baizel seemed touched by her words.
"All that is here, Catherine, is thine," she exclaimed; "everything!"
She pointed to her miserable stool, the furze broom, and the five or six fagots on the hearth. Catherine looked on a few moments in silence, and then said: "It is not grand, but it is solid; at least, they will not be able to burn down thy house."
"No, they will not burn it," said Hexe-Baizel, laughing; "they would need all the wood of the province of Dabo even to warm it a little. Ha! ha! ha!"
After so many fatigues, the partisans stood in need of repose. They all placed their guns against the wall, and lay down on the ground to sleep, Marc Divès having opened the second cavern to them, where they at least were sheltered. Marc then went out with Hullin to examine their position.