"Look," said he, "at that long file of shakos appearing all along the Sarre; and on this side too, others who are ascending from the valley like hares, with long strides; they are kaiserlicks, are they not? Well, what are they going to do there, Jean-Claude?"
"They are going to surround the mountain."
"That is very clear. How many do you think there are?"
"From three to four thousand men."
"Without counting those who are dispersed throughout the country. Well, what would you have Piorette do against this host of vagabonds, with his three hundred men? I ask you that plainly, Hullin."
"He can do nothing," replied the brave man, simply. "The Germans know that our ammunition is at the Falkenstein; they fear a rising after their entry into Lorraine, and wish to protect their rear. Their general has discovered that he cannot subdue us by main force; he has resolved to reduce us by famine. All that, Marc, is positive, but we are men, we will do our duty; we will die here!"
There was a moment's silence; Marc Divès knit his brow, and did not seem at all convinced.
"We will die!" he exclaimed, scratching the back of his head. "For my part, I don't at all see why we should die; that does not enter into my ideas, there are too many people who would be delighted at it!"
"What would you do, then?" said Hullin, in a dry tone—"would you surrender?"