Then at the close of this dismal story there was a long silence, and they both looked at each other without uttering a word.
What reflections, what bitter feelings passed through their minds!
After a few moments the old woman strove to rouse herself from these thoughts.
"You see, Jean-Claude," said she, in a calm, grave tone, "Yégof was not wrong."
"No doubt, no doubt he was not wrong," replied Hullin; "but what does that prove? A fool—a maniac, who goes from village to village—who comes down from Alsace, goes back to Lorraine, wanders right and left—it would be very surprising if he saw nothing, and if there should not be from time to time a mixture of truth in his mad sayings. All kinds of things get mixed up in his head, and then people think they understand what he does not understand himself. But it is not now a question of a fool's babblings, Catherine. The Austrians are here. The question is, whether we shall allow them to pass, or whether we shall have the courage to defend ourselves."
"To defend ourselves!" exclaimed the old woman, her pale cheeks flushing with excitement; "whether we shall have the courage to defend ourselves! You must forget, Hullin, that it is to me you are speaking. What! are we then unworthy of our forefathers? Did they not defend themselves, even to the death—men, women, and children?"
"Then you are for fighting, Catherine?"
"Yes, yes, as long as a morsel of flesh is left on my bones! Let them come! The old woman is prepared!"
Her long gray hair seemed to stand erect upon her head; her pale and withered cheeks trembled, and her eyes flashed fire.