Then he darted out into the road.
All those present turned pale.
When Master Jean-Claude had reached the verge of the hill, and cast his eyes over Grandfontaine and Framont, three thousand mètres below, the following sight presented itself to his eyes:
The Germans, who had arrived the evening before, a few hours after the Cossacks, and had passed the night (about five or six thousand of them) in the barns, stables, and sheds, were moving about like ants. They appeared on all sides in bodies of ten, fifteen, and twenty, buckling their knapsacks and swords, and fixing their bayonets.
Besides these, the cavalry—the Uhlans, Cossacks, Hussars—in green, blue, and gray uniforms striped with red and yellow—with their glazed linen and sheepskin caps, colbacks, and helmets—were saddling their horses and hastily rolling up their long cloaks.
Meanwhile the officers, in their great military cloaks, came down the small staircase: some were looking up at the country; others were embracing the women on the doorsteps.
Trumpeters, with their hands on their sides, were sounding the roll-call at all the corners of the streets, and the drummers tightening the cords of their instruments.
In short, through the broad expanse, one could see all their military attitudes as they were on the point of starting.
A few peasants, leaning out of their windows, were watching the scene; women were showing themselves at the loopholes of the garrets; and the innkeepers were filling the gourds, Corporal Knout watching them meanwhile.