She was really grand to look upon, as she stood, flushed and excited, like that aged Margareth of whom Yégof had spoken. Hullin silently held out his hand to her, and smiled approvingly.
"Right!" said he; "right! The same as ever. You are like yourself, Catherine; your own true, brave self, as you stand there before me; but now be a little calm, and listen to me. We are going to fight, and with what means?"
"All and every means; all are good—hatchets, scythes, pitchforks."
"Truly, truly; but guns and bullets are best of all. We have guns: every dweller in the mountains hangs his own over his door; unluckily we have neither powder nor ball."
The old farm-mistress grew calm in a moment; pushing her gray locks back under her cap, she stood absently gazing straight before her, with a thoughtful look.
"Yes," she suddenly replied, in a sharp, short tone; "that is quite true; we have neither powder nor ball, but we soon will have. Marc Divès, the smuggler, has some. You shall go to him to-morrow from me. You will tell him that Catherine Lefévre buys of him all his powder and all his bullets, that she pays him for them, that she will sell all her cattle, her farm, her land, all—all—to procure some. Do you understand, Hullin?"
"I understand. This is well done of you, Catherine; it is splendid!"
"Stuff! splendid and well done!" sharply retorted the old woman; "it is only natural that I should avenge myself! These Austrians, these Prussians, these red men, who have already half destroyed us—well! I would pay them back. I hate them, father to son. Now, you see! Buy the powder; and this wandering beggar, this fool shall see if we will rebuild his castles!"
Hullin then perceived that she was still brooding over Yégof's stories; but seeing how exasperated she was, and that, besides, her having this notion contributed to the defence of the country, he made no remark on this subject, and simply said:
"Then, Catherine, it's agreed that I go to Divès to-morrow?"