He was silent, but the quivering of his lips, a tear that rolled slowly down his cheek, his very attitude, all showed the scruples of the honest man, and that he found himself in a situation where conscience herself hesitates and seeks fresh support. Catherine went very gently and seated herself in a large arm-chair on the left. After a few seconds, Hullin added, in a calmer tone: "Between eleven o'clock and midnight, Zimmer arrived, shouting, 'We are taken in the rear! The Germans are coming down from the Grosmann; Labarbe is dead; Jerôme cannot hold out any longer!' And then he said no more. What was to be done? Could I beat a retreat? Could I abandon a position which had cost us so much blood, the pass of the Donon, the road to Paris? If I had done so, should I not have been a poltroon? But I had only three hundred men against four thousand at Grandfontaine, and I don't know how many who came down from the mountain! Well, cost what it would, I resolved to hold out. It was our duty. I said to myself: 'Life is nothing without honour! We will all die; but it shall never be said that we have surrendered the road to France. No, no; it shall never be said!'"
As he spoke these words, Hullin's voice again shook with emotion, his eyes filled with tears, and he added: "We held our post; my brave children held it until two o'clock. I saw them fall around me. As they fell they shouted: 'Hurrah for France!' At the beginning of the action, I had sent to warn Piorette. He arrived at full speed, with about fifty good men. It was already too late; the enemy poured down on us right and left; they held three parts of the ground, and drove us back into the fir-forests on the side of the Blanru; we could not stand against their fire. All that I could do was to collect my wounded, those who were still able to drag themselves away, and place them under the escort of Piorette. About a hundred of my men joined him. For myself, I kept only fifty to go and occupy the Falkenstein. We cut our way through the Germans who would have stopped our retreat. Fortunately the night was dark; but for that, not a soul among us would have escaped. This, then, is the state of things with us; all is lost! The Falkenstein alone is left to us, and we are reduced to three hundred men. The thing is now to know whether we are determined to go on to the end. For myself, I have told you it is painful to me to bear such a heavy responsibility alone. As long as it was a question of defending the pass of the Donon, there could be no doubt about the matter: every one owes his life to his country; but this pass is lost; we should want ten thousand men to enable us to re-take it, and at this very moment the enemy is entering Lorraine. Now then, what is to be done?"
"We must go on to the end," said Jerôme.
"Yes, yes," exclaimed the others.
"Is this your opinion, Catherine?"
"Certainly!" exclaimed the old farm-mistress, whose features expressed inflexible firmness.
Then Hullin, in a firmer tone, proceeded to disclose his plan.
"The Falkenstein is our point of retreat. It is our arsenal; it is there that we have our ammunition; the enemy know it, and will attempt to storm it. To prevent that, we must all of us here present hasten thither to its defence; all the country round must see us, so that they may be able to say—Catherine Lefévre, Jerôme, Materne and his sons, Hullin, Doctor Lorquin, are there. They will not lay down their arms! This thought will reanimate the courage of all honest people. At the same time, Piorette will hold himself in readiness in the woods; his followers will increase every day. The country will soon be over-run with Cossacks—with robbers of every description. As soon as the enemy shall have entered Lorraine, I will make a signal to Piorette; he will throw himself between the Donon and the road, and all the stragglers scattered over the mountain will be caught, as in a net. We may also profit by favourable chances to carry off the convoys of the Germans, harass their reserves, and, if fortune favours us as we must hope, and all these kaiserlicks should be beaten in Lorraine by our army, we shall then be able to cut off their retreat."
Every one rose, and Hullin, entering the kitchen, made this simple address to the mountaineers:
"My friends, we have just decided to resist to the very last. At the same time, every one is free to do as he likes, to lay down his arms, to return to his village; but let those who desire to avenge themselves assemble with us; they shall share our last bit of bread and our last cartridge."