Meanwhile, Marc Divès had recovered his self-possession. "Instead of brawling like a woman," said he, "you would do better to give me the order to begin the attack down below there by defending the ravine by the fir-trees."
"It must be so—a thousand thunders!" replied Jean-Claude. And then, in a calmer tone; "Listen, Marc; I'm in a furious rage with you. We were conquerors, and through your fault we've lost all our ground. If you miss your blow, we'll cut our throats together."
"Agreed. The affair is settled; I'll answer for the consequences."
Then, leaping on to his horse, and throwing the skirt of his cloak over his shoulder, he drew his long rapier with a haughty and defiant air. His men followed his example closely. Then Divès, turning towards the reserve, composed of fifty stalwart mountaineers, pointed to the platform with the point of his sword, and said: "You see that, my lads; we want that position. The men of Dagsburg must never be able to say that they showed more pluck than those of the Sarre. Forward!"
And the troops, full of martial ardour, set out on their march along the edge of the ravine. Hullin, pale with excitement, shouted, "Fix bayonets!"
The tall smuggler, on his immense brown horse, with muscular and shining croup, turned round, while a smile curled his lip under his thick moustaches; he poised his rapier with a look full of meaning, and the whole troop plunged into the thick fir forest. At the same moment, the Germans, with their eight-pounders, attained the height and began to place their battery, whilst the column from Framont was scaling the side. All was, therefore, in the same position as before the battle; with this difference, that the enemy's cannon-balls were going to be concerned in the affray, and take the mountaineers from behind.
The two field-pieces were distinctly visible, with their cramp-irons, levers, drags, artillerymen, and commanding officer, a tall, bony, broad-shouldered man, with long, light, waving moustaches. The azure vault of the valley brought far-off things so near, that you might have thought him within arm's length; but Hullin and Materne knew better; there were a good six hundred yards between them; no gun could reach as far as that.
Nevertheless, the old huntsman, before returning to the barricades, wished to have a clear conscience. So he advanced as near as possible to the ravine, followed by his son Kasper and a few mountaineers, and leaning against a tree, he slowly took aim at the tall officer with light moustaches.
All those who saw him held their breath, for fear of disturbing him, and marring his aim.
The shot winged its way through the air, and when Materne leaned the butt-end of his gun upon the ground to see what had happened, no change had taken place. "It is astonishing how age dims the sight," said he.