"In the matter of duty," replied Hullin, "there is neither more nor less; we have done our best."
"Yes," added Catherine, drily; "and since our enemies esteem us on account of that, well, they will esteem us still more in a week or a fortnight—for we are not at the end of the strife. We shall see some more of it."
The officer turned his head, and stood like one stupefied at the savage energy imprinted in the looks of the old woman.
"These are noble sentiments," he replied, after a moment's silence; "but humanity has its rights, and to shed blood wantonly is to render evil for evil."
"Then, why do you come into our country?" cried Catherine, in her sharp eagle's voice. "Quit it, and we will leave you in peace!" Then she added: "You make war like robbers; you steal, you plunder, you burn! You deserve all to be hung. You ought to be thrown from that rock as an example!"
The officer turned pale, for the old woman appeared to him quite capable of executing her threat; he, however, recovered himself almost immediately, and replied, in a calm tone:
"I know that the Cossacks have set fire to the farm which is to be seen opposite this rock—they are ruffians, such as are to be found in the train of every army—but this solitary act proves nothing against the discipline of our troops. Your French soldiers did many such things in Germany, and particularly in the Tyrol; not content with plundering and setting fire to the villages, they mercilessly shot down every mountaineer suspected of having taken up arms in defence of his country. We might make reprisals; it would only be our right, but we are not savages; we can appreciate all that is great and noble in patriotism, even in its most unfortunate inspirations. Moreover, it is not against the French people that we are making war; it is against the Emperor Napoleon. Besides, the General, on hearing of the conduct of the Cossacks, has publicly denounced this act of vandalism, and, in addition, has decided that an indemnity should be granted to the proprietor of the farm."
"I want nothing from you," sharply interrupted Catherine; "I prefer to be left with my injustice—and to avenge myself!"
The envoy saw by the old woman's tone that he could not make her listen to reason, and that it was even dangerous to make her a reply. So he turned towards Hullin, and said:
"I am commissioned, Commander, to offer you the honours of war, if you surrender this position. You have no provisions—we know it. In a few days, at latest, you will be compelled to lay down your arms. The esteem the General-in-Chief feels for you has alone decided him to propose to you these honourable conditions. A longer resistance would lead to no good. We are masters of the Donon; the body of our army has passed into Lorraine; it is not here the campaign will be decided—you have, therefore, no interest in defending a useless position. We wish to spare you the horrors of famine upon this rock. Come, Commander, decide!"